I'm a tiger,
Stripped from my dignity
In this god forsaken cage.
Trapped behind walls,
Prowling about
Waiting to be freed.

I long for the wind in my face
The sun to lighten my days
The rain to wash my sorrows away
The moon to reflect at night,
Lighting my way.

I'm a tiger
Waiting to be let loose
So that I can unleash myself,
And set fire to anything in my way.

Why is the sky blue,
When the ground is far above us?
How can one know another,
While they only see through a window?

Its quite simple

The thinker who thinks of thoughts
Shall only see
Rather than hear

I want the night to stay its night
Stay its blackness and dimness
I want the night to drop its curtain
To cover all the realm
Where humans roar louder than beasts
And do more murders than tigers
I want no day come into light
For hunters can see the clearest
And blood looks the reddest
Let the black sweep things down
From the dreadful streets to the peaceful forests
The world of fear doesn't deserve the light
'Cause darkness is sweeter than nightmare

Let us share
        an incantation of the old world
Let us unfurl words like a string of pearls
torn from ocean deep - I battled Krakens
to bring you these words – let me wreathe
the drowning seed of ancient demons
in a modern tale of high rise jewellery
You can wear me at your leisure
for I am a book of poetry - open in your hands
caress my pages - I offer ages of wisdom in sand
strung sorrowful about a stony neck
can you see the mystery of that cloud
striated by the mountains tip carved
deep into the sky in defiance of the wind
unbowed by time yet so vulnerable
to lion and tiger, to the hermit and his tearful rain
did you know that every beach was once a mountain?
so every ocean floor kissed the sky in its youth
let us built these fragments into clamshells
string them on pearlescent pages turned
by curious eyes and ponder how time
makes a mystery or a monster of us all
Let us share
              this incantation of the old world
for in words
              we can live forever

It’s interesting to me how both of you acknowledge that spot
The location where you supposedly “proposed to [my] dad”

You chose to bring up every detail

While you just note that its location has moved

Every time you come to visit me
Every time we pass by
“That’s the spot where I proposed to your dad!”
“Hey, there’s the blind tiger! It didn’t used to be there.”

And me in the passengers side seat
Relating these comments to the past 14 years of my life

How you tell me about all the times you shared together

And you never say one word about any of it

So maybe that’s why you left
And why you’re holding onto something that isn’t there
Or wasn’t there in the first place

Black mirror, black mirror
everybody believes you are me
ever since the war, they know
a mechanical butterfly
can't move it's wings
by sheer will.
The baby tiger in captivity
turns into a cat,
back and forth and again,
with the mystery and sadness
of a crumpled paper than none
will ever read. Take it all,
the time, the sky,
the habit of downward spiraling,
there is a certain discipline
required to scale yourself
down so you can fit your arms
around a giant.
With my back towards it,
I have discovered that ignorance
is not always bliss,
only less awkward.
Black mirror also lies,
his optical illusions are only
phantom words and fire,
whichever comes first.
And he can also be a prism.

I ride a bounding tiger rampant in a field of shame. His fur is made of razor wire; I grip it all the same

He tries to throw me down to the cutting grass below; there to lay me open there to lay me low.

My teeth they grind and gnash, my gut turns and knots; he twists with might beneath me, muscles clenched and taut.

I know that he is hungry, his teeth sharp to bite, still I ride the tiger, heels and hands they fight.

The tiger takes his toll as we roll and bound in strife; my will to stay aboard, his to take my life.

Our yen and yang are tied morning noon and night. I go where he takes me, I dare not stop the flight.

For some the beast is anger, others lust or fame, but each ride their tiger though others know not its name.

1.Thorn
A thorn is nothing
but a wish stubborn,
with an earnest point
to make a deep impact.

2.Her Reality

The core of a nightmare
broke loose, is she,
dislocated in a space
on broad day light
ready for someone
with a yen, for day dreaming.

3.A borrowed Deja vu

He suspects his love life, in vain
is piece of a well orchestrated ordeal,
of some one regaled much in pain;
just a cosmic 'cut and paste' job!

4.Tiger's aesthestics

"A match perfect, for me,
you are a befitting target"
growled the greedy tiger,
as he sighted the gazelle.

5.Unique

Day and night act
so well as the opposites,
yet they complement
ad infinitum,without
any complaint,
and sans even a trace
of pride or  jealousy.
Everything, even those
looking diametrically
opposite to untrained eyes,
are uniquely meaningful.