Your one stride, is full of pride,
We can see you are trying to guide.
But, we still get misplaced, and
You still come back to emplace.
Oh Swami Bapa, we can't thank you enough,
for helping us get through our guf...

You are the one
                 footstep
that connects to mine.

For every stride we take,
                Is never singular

   But one in unison.


You and I, are a step in the right

           Direction.

Never mistaken, but when we
             Work together


we"ll always take the right step.

he’s addicted to the high
from egotistical joy rides. he revels
in self pride, arrogance apparent in
his stride. but his confident exterior
is built from narcissistic lies. he can’t handle
hearing “no”- rejection leaves him mortified.    

this is not the first time
he's come to me ****-eyed.      
he asks for my consent, politely i deny.
he refuses to listen, preparing to defy.
my fear becomes palpable-
his desire
fortifies.

“no, no, no!” yet his hands
are on my thighs. “we have to tonight.”
his words cut like a knife.
i don’t understand why
i’m forced to comply. (this is my body,
don’t i get to decide?)

my bones calcify, my heart’s
a ship that’s capsized
i’ve been dehumanized and
yet i'm forced to act alive.

i look in the mirror
and let out a long sigh-
is it his soul or mine
that’s been demonized?

A meet
in hills
with locust
swam her
strain in
a frost
froze bosh
laid wish
went nil
and trail
aside her
was nothing
more than
my escape
in afternoons
of dust
bearing gravel

Lessons that’d keep coming throw me against rocks and stars
Vacuum the space of stories I cherished
the bibliography of another misunderstood wanderer

Fresh is today, yet dusty is mind’s wraparound
Begging the soul to hold on to the noose
to paint the portrait with wounds’ blood

Dissonance thrives
Yet roots are growing

Flurried, awaiting the washaway
from someone lovingly reaching out, understanding, acknowledging
giving nothing more but a smile of compassion

The dance awaits
for dissolution of sown death

No future will come for the waiting ones

I’ll sculpt all within and without that I can
I’ll keep on refusing to stop at the mask
I’ll strengthen what needs to become stronger
and tear down all which was never meant to be

In the end there’s only one direction

a golden mare
strength and power
inspiration and imagination
flowing in rhythm or rhyme
thoughts in words I share
passion moving forward in time
roads of emotions; feelings I stride
paths of decisions; thoughts I ride
experiencing; distance and abilities
within my mind galloping the margins
of my quenching desire written
running wild and free
a golden horse
the perfect palomino of poetry

On the wheels, I whirl, I spin, I move
Clouds too whirl, then darkness spins
A lightning bolt, then the deafening sound,
Then it pours,
N the fire flies go dim
I dont amble, I dont whisk
Opening my hand, gawking above, I dont decline
Three winks! Drenched n detached from the me wrenching myself,
I wheel as  "The Lance Armstrong"

Heavy pours invite a stroll
Cats and Dogs pouring down dismay Rats, ROFL!
Oust as Prince Zuko, I stroll
Surrendering myself to  the Zephyr
Same trail but with ****** looks
Hypnotic green, drenched, raise me to the Oblivion
Shimmering in the distant are two dim lights
N I ***** like " The Supertramp"

Beginning of the ultimate inception, I touch
Extending my arms to the cries of sky
Dont know the destination of this alley
Trying to think what 'm anticipating
Though without any charge on my shoulders
Flickering in the near distant are two lights
I hike as " The Aron"

'm I tears, I dont know
Even the silence has sulked
Nothing's in my head
Green n Brown, Pink n Purple hues
Repose the folioles, within
Distant lights are passing by now
I stride as " The me"

To the Aisle,
where birds peep, cheep, chirp, quaver, tweet n warble
From the stroll to the stride
's a short walk of hues n blues
The fringes have passed by
Arena's clear n so 'm I.