On a grey asphalt midwest road
lay a terrible place to weep and moan..
where white ***** rain trickles low
on poison ivies and blurry saxophones..

..with unified yellow lights that neither blink nor stare
unending love
the throbbing blue road
and metal statues whose souls lay bare.

The silent night gathered all
even my brown pain
and the terrible fall
what remained was none-so-less
threshed and withered like those leaves of green..
..empty thoughts, silent stills,
and wanderlings, with dreamy quills.

Broken i lay, with those captured skies..
flashes of lightning
empty gazes and embittered souls
painful verses of a poets play
are those terrible blue dreams, they say.

Herein lies the cycle of this existence. Replete with everyday banalities - placid and meaningless - the menials of survival give away almost suddenly, and I find myself plunged into the depths of an unperturbed silence... where a voice within resounds the Om. A rage drives me to divest all falsifications.. those sensuous pleasures and miserable burdens, insecurities and frustrations.. and all that exists/acts in a true sense of transience. I feel calm again - cleansed and breathless on the shores of this Reality. But alas!, the Silence fades.. slowly and steadily the noises of the world begin to seep in, like the first rays of sunshine after a long wintrous slumber.
Crests and troughs, this life of mine. A reckless indifference grips my heart; I exist, unbeknown of whether I am a benign Observer or the perverse Experiment, or evenly both.

I reach for an empty bride
deep unto myself
through glass mirror walls, serenading waves
and, palm in palm
we ballet the yellow skies,
mesmerizing the earth.
An intense love affair this...

Lay beside me
And hold my breathless stare
Therein lies a silence
I seldom share

there was a girl today who sat by me on a fence and watched the sun and the clouds roll by, the brightly colored rings all the things that make me fly.  
We remained together until darkness fell reminiscing the journeys she's been and the strange lands that she's seen, her long lost sighs and, what lie beyond those eyes.  
..when she left i prayed in my lonely blues, that one day i will know her name, who she was, from where she came
- was she from my summer dreams? swept here by some timeless winds.. or, did she emerge from those myriad stars? carrying some of their myriad hues..
May it be,
that one day I will see, who she was, from where she came
.... [incomplete :-) ]

God as a naked fabric, a forceful self...
lay today in the morning dew with love amidst and over me,
on the wet barren land, between the moist deep and the green road
the yellow petals, their leaves and twigs
stood witness to the Love we made...
torn with relief, I devoured the pain
but, there was no desire in the pleasure She gave
like hollow imprints of ***** uncertain steps
on moving sands and loss waters....
...a mute witness, it was then that I saw,
either God was a She or I was a he...
I chose the latter and allowed Her to be.

A spaceless canvas of a beautiful dream
Spaces to see and spaces to dream
Myriad and countless in thousands they seem;
Distanced thoughts of an uncertain kind..
The swift strokes of a finer self
A breast of pain and the womb of death..
The Rampant search of a timeless man,
The Mystique brilliance of a madder dream..
Clawing to lose a searchless path
The Maya of me and the Maya of death
Spaces and spaces myriad they seem

To stand alone and To view apart
An un-poisoned brightness of a fewer whole
froth-less waves of a mid-life's depth
kindled flames, a rocking boat
Spaces and spaces to me they seem

I wish for this night to prolong
beyond the dawn that (gingerly) awaits,
and the uncertain future
that it brings along.

I wish for this night to prolong
as we set sail on joyous winds
your caressing words
like pearls that adorn cheerful strings.
....
There are myriad distances
yet we re-unite
with meaningless conversations
on the soulful palette of this starry night.

O' Beloved, I wish for this night to prolong
beyond the time, when we may have to leave
a time I pray will truly never come
and…. hope that it will never have to be me."

A rain shatters the silent peace of the dark blue Yamuna... flowing
guilelessly on its own accord by the eroded banks of time...
with waters that rise and fall, and move along in silent obedience.
In the melancholuous rain, drown the voices of those that have
sinned
voices of wet Lovers that echoed through time...
greener pastures and parched blues....
men who left their footprints in the soft sands of an immense depth ..& emerged with a part of the river,
that today carries their sins...
what kind of affection is this O'Yamuna..
abathed in the sins of our time, yet you flow so guilelessly..