rainbows aren’t beautiful
deceptive
a beautiful mirage
that you know won’t stay
and cause sadness

but maybe that’s wherein its beautiful
without a promise of the future
it lives the moment
and the moment lives itself through its beauty

dewdrop swinging on grass blade
drunk in its merriment
in shape of a perfect star
whose pale rays condense
in a drop of water
surrounded by friends
critters of the night


among many alike
earth is a dewdrop
a tear on the cheek of creation
destined to be dried away
by breeze of temporariness
in meadow of eternal time

never melt
the unbridled heart of a snowflake
it may turn into
an avalanche

The evening moon is almost full
My feet sink in porous shores
Little toes peeking through sea foam
Cotton candy coloured beach house
Behind my back
Voices call me for a snack


Tangerine sky warm with dryness of day
And dreariness of night
Stars punched through holes
Wires connected to nebulae
Housing purple dust
My gaze drifts innocently
To the heart of stardust looking into my soul
Voices of those I love make me shed a tear
And pray for my lost moon


Petrichor and monsoon
Soft greens between hard rocks
His smiling countenance melting shield of self-doubt
While my vulnerable seed lets go of
It’s protective shell
My wings grow in these turbulent times
I set sail to unknown winds
For my moon is almost full


I have my heart
I have my wings now
To gaze at destiny’s mirror
Along with him
Maybe discreetly, maybe pompously
Walking upto a window and open up
Fearfully, fearlessly, angrily, lovingly
Acceptingly


My strings join to the cosmos
Thumping of heart heard in supernovae
Tears in conches turned to pearls
Sweat on my brow turned to morning dew
Gushing Blood in veins turned to glowing magma
I hear the moon say
You are your own light
Burdened, free
Adulterated, unadulterated
Tell this to your mirror and let it sing praises
of your mighty soul


When my eyes look into a mirror
The mirror gazes itself through them
When the moon is almost full
And even when you hide it somewhere
I find wishing myself a happy birthday
Everyday

... every thought in your head
realized into a separate timeline in another universe
Would you take responsibility for your ugly thoughts?

... all your wishes were fulfilled instantly
Would such power still keep you
A nice person?

... you could hear other people’s thoughts
Would you give a second chance to people
Who had a terrible first impression of you?

... every plant and animal in the world
Could talk to you
Would you be able to eat?

... God told you how disappointed he was with humans
Would you risk being called insane
and share God’s message with everyone?

... you had the power to take free-will away
From all sentient beings
Would you take upon yourself to write their destiny?

... what if you had the power to destroy the universe
And make everyone live a permanently blissful afterlife
Would you do it?

Before the page was turned over
It was a beautiful silence all around
A soft white light everywhere he could see
Joy unbridled

When things changed
Turned imperfect
And light was harder to find
A fog of amnesia surrounded his consciousness
And the ones he found around himself were just as unaware of their place in this wilderness

They journeyed through a windy desert
Stopping only for a confused communion once in a while
Peering into each other’s eyes for an answer
Finding darkness and fear of the unknown

Then one star came up on the horizon
The brightest of them all
With the hope of a treasure at the end of its journey through the sky
He followed it
and others followed his twinkling promise through clouds
And whenever it hid for longer than a few moments
The faith of those around him faltered

He held still
In wait and cried
"O king of stars, lead us to joy
Lead us to purpose for we are lost”
The others howled behind him
They asked for forgiveness, some begged for mercy
Some demanded assurance, some slept simply, with no footprints left on desert sand

“O king of stars,
Though I may stumble
Or I may yet fall
Still I know you’ll be with me
See me through all”
His chant of devotion which many repeated
People charted the star’s path over and over every night
For what else was there to do
Everything else seemed to be dead,
the sand, the sky, the wind, the emptiness in everyone’s eyes

Thus they started their journey
Walking for eons through an endless nothingness
Sleeping and waking up every which-where they wished ; whenever they wished
Doubting, hoping, fighting, loving and hating the one they called messiah
Who finally lead them to a hill over which the star stopped in its path

And everyone sat over the hill waiting
With legs aching from the journey
Minds tired and scared of the unknown
The messiah told them I played my part
Before he closed his exhausted eyes
And gained his long lost light

Then the star fell from sky and vanished into oblivion
Just as it all began
The desert was dark again

He killed the star some said
Some said the star killed him
Some said there never was a star and they were fools to walk behind him for so long

Wind and sand grew colder still
as the night went from blue to black
To be put away from the nightmare of darkness
People wished upon the broken star
To put an end to their misery

And one by one
Their wish came true
Before it was not

went to the market of desires
to exchange my inadequacies
found no buyers

A bulky cloud shouted and made noises at me.
So, I threw a stone at it.
The cloud spat in my general direction.
It ruined my day.

Once a tree danced with its shadow in the moonlight
Till the dawn ended their party

Once upon a time
He had no time
Then came a time
He was left with no time
When all this time
Time sat still
In the tower of eternity

Foolish owl stares at the horizon
Skybound
While ocean meets the evening
Chases this illusion of union
Gives up

Wise owl stares at the horizon
Perched on a branch
While ocean meets the evening
Waits for darkness
Stays awake for the view

Lemon is such a beautiful fruit.
Why are beautiful things sour?

Tired of using the eraser
More than this pencil
And coffee to stimulate myself
Wanting to bring something into existence
At the Devil’s hour
Here I am
Insomniac
Surrounded by my own thoughts
Resonating through the cacophony of nothingness
With open eyes
No sign of sleep
I must finish this work
I must finish creating
Something
Anything
Perhaps it’s imperfect
I don’t care
Just need something to fall into
A dream to live ; to cure my sleeplessness
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Done at last
Looks weird but will do for now
Let’s see where tonight’s dream takes me
Let me close these eyes in dark
Let me open my being to a new light
.
.
.
.
Where am I ?
Who brought me here ?

Your sacred place is where you can find yourself again and again. The great attractor. On a Sunday morning, near the river bank, soaking in sun rays filtering through wispy clouds that peek through tall oak trees, you sit on fallen orange leaves. Hint of chill still present in the early spring breeze. Calm water talking only through the language of small waves brought by soft wind. You see smoke coming out of a cabin chimney not too far away. Breakfast will be here soon. You feel excited to share sandwiches and simple joys of this morning with your soulmate. The conversation between nature and your silence only to be interrupted by the sight of your love. Radiant and natural after a great night's sleep, those glistening eyes gaze at the shimmering surface of water. You eat and you soak all scents of nature. You hum an old song. The urge to live the moment is just too strong. You want to scream out of uncontained joy but don't. Because it feels silly. Then out of nowhere he/she screams loud. Amazed, you laugh greatly and shout too. Both join in a song. Time stands still, lying with us together on dried orange leaves. Maybe that is why you find yourself here again and again. Because time slept alongside both of us lying down on the earth in embrace.

What can win against time, someone asked me
reminiscing the journey which started eighteen months ago
with me and him philosophizing intricacies of life
and human emotion
relishing the daily luxuries of satisfying debates
when little did I know that we would walk all along
fighting demons in our own being
surviving closed ends of fate
and loneliness

The man I got to learn of
his real, gentle and calm soul
comforted with the truth of a warm heart
eventually knocking out the dread
of long distances between us
relinquishing the storms in our minds
embracing sparkles of different weathers

Shall it really last forever
self-contained
or burst out with emotion
believing
it really is us
together
and our love fueled by faith in search of its way
which outlasts time
a shining beacon
in midst of an ocean of crowded wilderness.

somewhere near the spoken
and unspoken
in a time stitched into
the mesh of camaraderie
beings are too easy to vanish
in an oblivion created by
business of a galloping heart
and lure of wealth

and though winds are fast
with waters still
she feels the tug of roots
pulling her back to memories
and vivid textures of paint
once audaciously smeared
on sheets of paper
now form a collage
of muddy remembrance

but with a blow of passions under her wings
and hearkening to voices of accomplishment
her being must go on to a different place
to transform
but not vanish into a galaxy of stars all alike
but be the sun of a million souls
yet remain the glisten of morning dew
yet remain the chirp of blossoms
yet remain a crochet of smiles

though she does not wait or beg
for world to join her
or apologize for giving into her desires
it is with this start
the floating dream of success awaits
in celebration of which
under twinkling heavens
bidding farewell to an October night
she slips into the trance of kathakali
and every beat of her feet
counts down
to the advent of orange morning light
of her own small sun

Screams of wind
Set in disguise
Unheard and unfelt

Feel thy shadow
Breathe again

Live, long lost wind!

Whisper howls
To me, I plead

Comfort thy heart
My soul begs thee
Scream and relieve

Live long, lost wind!

a caterpillar
stuck in a cocoon
made of golden cement

is there any way
for it to turn
into a butterfly
before its end

a brook flows past my pillow
when lights are out  

curtain falls on the play of stars
when tinders burn out of bonfires
and pale smiles retreat to reality's house...

my eyes retire
confined to a neverland again
fingers feel the thin bark
of an orange tree
and citrus sweetness fills the air
walking in someone's lost garden
on a red cliff
the petrichor from tired grass
soaked in night dew
gets narrated through
her unfinished poem
resting under a violet pebble
and a clueless white lily

on the chariot of sunrays
piercing azure skies
i walk barefoot on yellow leaves
fallen dead so gracefully
in lap of autumn
hiding any remnants of spring
left by the brook
that flows past my pillow

when lights are out and moon sleeps
but sun shines in all its glory
behind my closed eyes
i see her in them
with breeze dancing through her hair
stray dandelion seeds circling her feet
standing far
moving farther still
against a surreal backdrop of wilderness

shall i stretch out my hand
step closer to her fading image
or retreat
to promise of a new spring
warmth which they say waits for me
at the other side of fall

only if pictures came to life
and life were scribbled ink
i'd live the moments
not with eyes shut
but in vivid audacity of my paintings
i'd live us
everlastingly
not just when lights are out
by brook that flows past my pillow

Soul of a drop
Got lost somewhere
When everyone saw it
as nothing but the ocean

don't rely solely on God
maybe God relies solely on you

then night said
silence
is how universe
speaks it's mind.

she walks barefoot across the lake
with sultry arrival of soft night
forest welcomes perennial wanderer of violet sky
silently stealing through heaven's stage
focus of all lonesome lunatics
and misfits

red sunset loses tinge by the passing minute
held captive by maroon horizon
distant sounds of rattlers in woods
grow louder in blackness
as shadows of tall grasses melt into
loose sights of night
goblets of lilies flanking mossy path-stones
ooze a pale odour
crawly denizens of dark venture out
on the meandering curve of flowing brook

coat of sky now a deep purple
with sparsely spread dots
which nobody bothers to join
for stars too impatient to hide
will reveal themselves soon
in chariots, warriors, princesses, muses
charts of bears big and small
to beings of forest
along with the lady's different faces you see
one dripping rays on sweet tongues of mango trees
one sneaking past the reflection of hill in lake
one snugly held in cradle of cotton clouds
spied on by distraught creatures

long story short
it is absurd that the firefly in this mix
could hold a spectacle
against the pretty moon for longer than
a twist of the summer breeze
yet somewhere in mist that surrounds its tininess
it dances audaciously
glows with desire to be one amongst the stars
guarding a fire in its chest
that golden ember it houses
shine that puts diamonds to shame
in aromatic wilderness of mossy forest beds
or does it really

it can dance with her
pretend to play lyre with strings of her beams
chase the gleam her light casts on the lake
perhaps float on wafting scents
of flowers embracing the night
hopelessly drenched in a surreal dream
in hours spent with her every night

but the glow in its chest cannot
find a reflection through her eyes
warmth in the breeze cannot
melt the moon to its ground
to some unknown realm
where everything is nothing
and nothing is all it could wish for
until the meaning of its being
fades to oneness with her
if only it could be

the nectar of night is almost spilled out
through jar of time
her bright visage slowly drifting out of sight
strength in the firefly's heart withers
lets go of the captive desire
the luminous play of love

now the wings are tired
glow dimmed
dim as the bears and swans charted in sky
cinders turn to grey ash  
and white smile on moon's face
pours through a sieve of clouds
to fall on its sleeping body
coated in red moss

Existence. Emotion. Bond. Experience
Life. Joy. Un-forgettable. Heartfelt
Struggle. Love. Irreplaceable. Un-foreseeable
Death. Numb. Spiritual. Question
Challenge. Grief-stricken. Invisible. Un-explainable

Soul. Sorrow. Eternal.
Journey. Dark. Solitude.
Breeze. Whisper. Presence.  
Guide. Heard. Un-spoken.

Thread. Sunset.
You. Me.
Free. Caged.

Wish.
PEACE.

there is no song which time could sing
no chords of reason memories string
and though our moments bittersweet
could gnargled **** amusingly..

to kiss the knives in dark of nights
that cut us up in wrongs and rights
carve us into plainer shapes
homely, drier, commonplace..
remember each and every stance
by whims and fancies or by chance,
what drives us part is neither stars
or vague and placid fate of ours
in solace ; peace amid the pain
and spirits worming in embrace
what does soar high in tops of trees
in flash of silent tranquil breeze

through greens of promised merriment
while branching arms in wonders spread
lets close our eyes and find the rhyme
but not in stars, in heart this time.

which starts as tiny embryo
in seeds of stories light
engraved upon horizons of
dark before sunrise

an idea held in roots of mind
charts blueprints of fate
journeying through the fists and stones
bricks and smokes in wait

through gasping moments find it shall
a touch of heaven's flight
when modest endeavours guide it through
a path of noble sight

to fill it's veins with throbbing hope
keep tryst with self alive
and to record new epics great
the thought would turn to life

and breaking slates of emptiness
dawns jump up it's lap to rest
through swish of trees and hum of bees
some dreams do find their rest

People who fight
their battles alone
either lose the battle
or lose themselves.

You don't remember right? The time we stepped out of the same core and tugged onto warmth in darkness? And later, a few gusts of saltwater breeze took you far far away to roots of a forest in tropics? The drops from sky brought me to feet of sea, in a realm where I laid in a trance for millennia. I don't know why but it still feels like yesterday, when we were born out of stardust. You just don't remember.

But I know you remember when we met again. You carved someone's name on my chest. To forever turn me into the mirror of your heart. That name carrying a promise, a hope, etched on me joined us both, albeit momentarily. I too shared that hope, that desire to see you return with her and show the name you etched. For years maybe. Before you forgot again.

I don't know how long has passed. But I still bear the mark, fading away bit by bit, dissolved in cracks, covered in moss root. Stars watch and skies change clothes everyday. Waves climb my face and winds wipe away cracks filled with saltwater. I wonder how long does forever last. Maybe as long as the memory? Or maybe as long as the feeling. Feelings I assumed you had when you wrote her name on me, just as indelibly. And maybe somewhere in midst of all seasons which passed, I fell in love with a memory you lost along the way.

And though you pride yourself in beauty of a human heart which beats with strength of desire, I bear pride in mine which never loses the name. Which never loses the memory. A stone heart never forgets. But until it is a grain of sand again. For then it will flow with breath of life, to heart of another star, to meet the name it fell in love with too.

before he kissed her goodbye
the light burning in heart of a star
was asked

will you ever return to me

she placed one palm on his now dark soul
and closed the eyes with another to whisper

always have, always will.

when the yarn of rain weaves a carpet on grass blades
the loudy birds move for shelter
in pages of a book skipped to the ****** of night
in hope to start afresh with another journey

silently as spirits hum through my lips
and unspoken words wait to be heard
the stars spring a mesh of destiny
*fighting with demon clouds

wish you were here
in the void between stars
slowly floating in spaces
left between fingers and the night sky
away from hot splashes
of bitter sun

wish you were here
keeping me company on a long winding road
where tree shadows hold each others hands
till the end of nothingness
where birds forget their nests
and are forever lost in blissful amnesia

wish you were here
draped in colours of autumn
fragrances of spring and gusts of rain
in silent chills of winter whiff
hunting like an arctic fox
the no good prey of meekness

wish you were here
on the attic walking on a crazy rainbow
shamelessly fragile
like the love of a baby for a new toy
so pure, honest...  yet so
insubstantial

stuck in a fishbowl
ensnared by smiles of the moon
alluring me with chants of professed freedom
life throws darts on a balloon heart
wish you were here
to rid me of fears and lies i tell myself
and you

in times when diamonds doubt their worth
boundaries of satisfaction orphaned by loneliness
wish you were here
with a wingspan of monsoon clouds
to soar over and flood the parched earth
preceded by rhythms of thunder

but here you are
hiding in pillars of laughter
swaying to music of freshness
meant for my hazy eyes to seek
and I dare not dance on orange flower-beds
left behind in your footprints
etched on my imagination

I dare not lead this dance
I will not change the music
and let delirium echo in air surrounding us
for too much of a dream bewitches the sleep

but somewhere in the spaces
left between my fingers and the night sky
draped in colours of autumn
carrying smile of a baby who found his toy
with footprints on which spring grows
just for tonight...

could you walk my rainbow

“I want to feel weightless. Warm too... like this foam”, he added looking down as he dabbled his feet in water.

She saw him with an amused expression.

“Do you come often?”

“Yes. At nights. Alone. Whenever I'm too tired to sleep”.

“How can someone be tired and sleepless at the same time?”

A smile lit his face, “Can be. Look ahead”.

“The ocean's tired of gathering all of river's salt. Still tries to push it to the shore with its waves. Sleeplessly”.

“But why?” she asked, clearing strands of hair out of her eye. The cool midnight breeze carried salt in the air on a quintessential moonlit summer night.

After holding a pause, he added, “Maybe the ocean has no choice”.

“Why not? Who's stopping the ocean from resting down in peace?”, she questioned.

“The same melody to which all life must dance”.

She looked at him with questions in the eye.

“And what of these waves which crash on feet of rocks? What pleasure does such dance bring? Everything just dies eventually. This can't be a melody.” She was curious to hear from him now.

“Not all silence is death dear. Not all ends are the close. This.. and not even a trickle of water which lets loose from sky leaves its place without a reason. That rock has a reason to be. That wave needed to die for a reason.”

“What's all this thing about silence and death then? There's no melody in silence, or is it?”

“If there can be a music in sound, why can't there be a music in silence?”

“Now you're not making any sense. Silence is the lack of sound”.

“Not quite. Sound is the absence of silence. Sound is a cloak which hides the real face of being. Actuality is not sound. It is silence. And in this silence hides a million possibilities of being. Including this crash of waves... this tumble of the midnight tide... of you and me.”

“Hm.”

After reflecting on it for a few seconds she asked, “So end of things is just one possibility? What are the other possibilities then? Immortality? Isn't death unavoidable?”

He tried to lay it plain now. “Look at the chances of you and me being here. Right here. This moment. Sitting on this rock. Few months ago we didn't know the other of us even existed. What could be the possibility of this happening? Life is all about one possibility growing roots into another. Of chances forming relationships with each other. It all forms a web of instances which we connect with. Which we remember as life experiences.”

“But ultimately, we do have to die, don't we? We need to stop somewhere”

“Yes but what suggests that possibilities of existence end with death of body? The wave doesn't really die with a crash. See? There it came again,” he pointed with a smile.

“That's not the same wave...”, she was quick to revert.

“No that one was bigger. but”... “yeah i get it”, she interrupted him

“Its a part of the same thing. Same ocean i mean”, she said.

He smiled and added, “Also has the same rhythm”.

She smiled back, “So everything is brimming with life then? Skies and seas, plants and rocks.. all of it? Sounds like something out of CS Lewis' fiction”.

“Mhm”

“Guess everything could be as fictional or as real as it can possibly be then. Depends..”, she said looking at the midnight sky.

“Totally.”

“And this applies to everything, hm?”

“Completely.”

“What's real then?”

“Redness in your cheeks when you smile”.

A giggle followed to which he pointed his finger at and remarked, “As I was saying...”

“... stop it silly”, she interrupted him grinning.

“I meant what we see and feel this moment is real. Feeling is real. Maybe what we felt yesterday was real then, but we can't feel it now. We can't feel the first rays of dawn yet, so future is not real either”

They faced midnight's horizon. Immersed in placidness, pondering upon the gaze of sky and water with something which connected them both incomprehensibly.

“I think I can feel hearing to the sea now. Its refreshing.”

“Sure is.”

“To the silence of sea now, I mean.”

“Yeah.That's what I always come here for too,” he mumbled slowly.

"And to see the waves break themselves on feet of rocks with longing, while the rocks are deeply immersed in hearing the silence of their being in tranquil quietude".

filling deserted alleys with opaque walls of muteness
like a video frame paused for hours
tamed in sight, this night gently leaves moist imprints
on face of ***** windshields bearing finger doodles

the paws of lingering mist would run
through puddles of water at corners of street lamp
coil around a melancholy orange veil of light
concealed in narrow glass neon tubes

would the ravens sleep, wander or meditate
while stray dogs breathe in a freezing December laboriously
tucked inside cozy beds of garbage
painstakingly gathered

on its toes, beaten, tired with smiles
the heart of night haunches over
the promise of what could be
and with nobody looking, silently moves on

should the long awaited breeze deliver
a promise of fidelity unafraid
of clearing away this fog in mind
with a glimpse of you

when stars find themselves stuck in turbulent seas of haze
with moon unable to break the walls of unknown
and morning sun afraid to sail into clear skies
my breath beckons an unknown name

obscure yet alive, the paws of lingering mist would run
and soak each blade of grass, one dewdrop at a time
overwhelm each particle of soil, one cold drip at a time
and laminate nearby pond till lotus has no choice

but to flower.

How do you
love someone
who doesn't
love her/himself?

she asked him one night, "what is eternity made of"?

"hope".

Night is wise. From its silences sprout echoes in which restless musings find home. Where answers are found to problems shoved under the rug by the day's narcissistic hands. And inside which the world elopes through a starry tunnel of twirling memories, like autumn leaves kiss yellow forest beds – one by one.

He leaned against the rail, reading memoirs of sea like a devoted disciple of a December night, preserving the crash of clueless waves against helpless rocks in his mind. Rose fragrances trapped in chilly sea breeze tugged at a past, writhing in his head like sepia memories uncomfortably familiar. Nature, he thought, is a time capsule. When it speaks through the rustling of cedar branches, in the quietness filling violet landscape, reflected in shallow pools or through the spectacle of an awaited meteor shower, time stands still for a moment, the might of which would put eternity to shame.

Curious how sea waves would try to race against swift clouds, he wondered, only to be pulled back to their core by the unrelenting sea. Why is it that...

“What are you doing here all alone”, a voice shook him out of the trance. The man's ship of thoughts returned to a more human reality. He did not turn around to meet the eyes of this familiar girl.

“Music changed. Couldn't keep up with the rhythm.”

She walked upto the steps leading to rail on the balcony overlooking a tumbling cobalt Mediterranean. Proximity to her fragrance ate up into the refurbished armour of solitude he had cocooned himself in. Alas, nature unfolded itself in a feminine form when symphonies of all phenomenon reached a crescendo.

“It's chilly here. You should get inside.”

“No. I'm warm from the dance”, she replied leaning on the cold rail and grabbed it in her hands like a rudder-steer.

With eyes closed, girl turned her face upto the sky; a smile appeared on her small lips as moistness of a majestic sea breeze filled her senses. Underneath the stars, her skin glistened under reckless moonbeams accentuating each curve of her petite frame. He turned his audacious gaze to the girl, splendidly dressed in a maroon ball-room gown, beholding the sight of her visage as if etching it in memory. Painting her rose fragrance on shadow fountains this sparsely clouded sky makes on her gleaming skin, with whirls losing their way in maze of her hair, her sweetest breath swallowing his soul with blossoms of madness, he wished to keep it frozen in the cardiac cage for posterity. Perhaps it was smoke all around or everything else turned to static background noise, except her. She was gravity.

“He dances well. You both do I mean”, he said facing the sea again. He could bear this sight more easily.

“Doesn't the moon look beautiful tonight?”, the girl breathed in dreamily.

“And like all beautiful ladies, she must not be left unescorted”, replied the man .

She looked at him, trying to underline traces of emotion on his poker face. “Why're you so...”

“Not so much as you.”

Looking at her in eye for the first time, he added, “They'll announce dinner soon. I'll join in five”.

“Alright”, was her reply followed by a laboured smile as she walked back towards the grand ballroom. As the girl was about to reach the glass door, something halted her in the step and she turned around. An old memory.

“Hey, if you see a falling star, can you make a wish for me?”

Her demand was met with the slightest of nods before the man found himself lost again.

Maybe eons passed that night, after sound of her steps faded away into hums of soft music. Or maybe it felt so. But, he did not let a bead of moisture escape his eye once it begged to fall out. It did not deserve to be wished upon.

i've seen the mighty lands of gold
rest at altars of stone
where warmth of summers resonate
in yarn of winter's robe

in serenades for angels lone
shrivel as waves on shore
and set to howl when seasons tap
on silences some more

i've met the kindest and the wise
in wake of journeys home
who waver like the looming moon
and fade to blurs in core

they were ashes of nostalgia
in deepest pits of dream
in creed which strings the rhyme of sky
from clutches dark which scream

through whistles of an autumn breeze
on a hill in sight of night
i am the tree which bleeds her stars
through leaves of silver light

in imperfect creases on fabric of time
like colours jostling about in a kaleidoscope
and in eyes of seamless auroras
we all long to be freely blooming dandelions

when poems are carved
on flesh of a sprawling night
by ubiquitous drops of rain
slithering seep into crevices,
through each pore and cavity...
they stutter and gather pieces of
halos abandoned by fireflies
on dismembered petals and ferns alike
while hesitating strokes define
scribbles on a soggy parchment
ridden with nostalgia
exclaimed by a crooked white stream
of moonlight betwixt eyelids
and far across faded sheets of grey
through magnetically opposite lives
separated as lips parted in amazement
in a hearth amalgamating memories
obtusely incessantly
you coerce my heart to throb
lodge in womb of wispy breezes
frequently, unspoken.

in million beats a heart does die
as scents of moment fade
i tenterhook at beams of moon
and spin our nights away

streaming down the cheeks of sky
dire and forlorn
languid rays of moonlit smiles
in softest feathers born
molten lay the path of stars
with shadows high and long
through silken flights of tranquil dreams
our night shall kiss the morn

when in piles of tiny heaps
shapely mounds beneath our hands
seasoned stand on grainy shores
arduously may grasp the sands

wavy spikes of flapping sea
thrown to castles terror bound
are screaming yet so perfectly
tranquil as may silence sound

the grip of august imagery
while storms upon or crash its faith
dwells in floods of eddies lost
to empty fancies abdicate

laid in sea of solemn voices
do twilights flush in garb of light
narrated by swirling chords
shivering break apart tonight

albeit the ebbs of moments rife
drench may dreams of saline pain
shovel tides preserved in drops
slip through fingers, dissipate

venturous as lonesomeness
of scarlet night's insomnia
stubborn hunts the night's last star
in delusion finds panacea

the elixir of destiny
solace in carnal myths of dawn
and joys which heart incarcerates
in barren cages of a conch

love is rebel

when maddening rush of waves in sea
pound upon rocks obliterating all reverence
and meekest lilies bud in deserts to destroy
drowsy, shrivelled spirits of arid expanse

winds hum a song

and ballad of crimson bleeds from skylark's beak
as millennia of smoldering agony melt the furnace
of a gasping heart stomped upon by boots of time
weary, tired of burning for this world

i turn to you

chasing the merriest dream shut against an eye
of a frail romance, seeking a moment's solace
in tender touch of your silvery hue
lest my soul discern emptiness of my being

and turn blind without

caress of blissful light streaming down divinity
of a paradise which shall be home to lovers
in a moment something akin to blossoms fair
and be named the marvel of a moonlit sky

but how you only part

with moment lapsing into oblivion like a stream
housing ripples which fade into obscurity
as you flowing ride seaward along noiseless breezes
only to rest in nethers of a watery labyrinth

and doomed to burn

i part ways till my beloved's sleep grieves upon
dark stillness of heart as garish rays burn alight;
fill the land with a curtain of longing;
await your blissful countenance at twilight

beyond a chore of night and day

indulge in gleaming splendour of a festival
witnessed by angels and mortals alike
amid fleeting tenderness that paints our wispy sky
with a rosy blush, we seek each other

wriggling along

emptiness of space and hallucinate
a glittering spread of stars half asleep or coy
while celestial arena dumbfounded by our mutinous flight
gazes at two Gods sailing, sinking in each others arms

do humans plead and pray

wrought with sorrow, wish away the ill omen
turning glorious light to abominable darkness
as if life betrayed the vanquished spirit of
terrorized souls shouting, beating pots and drums

should someone tell the world

and those beseeching mercy from heavens
escape is a wing endowed to dream
through eyes of a lover which turn to riot
illuminate the darkness of a lifetime's longing

tell them dearie, tell them now

to the chanting, screaming vengeful barbarians
we're a tangle of coldly breathed sighs in lonesome nights
a mad rush of blooming desire grew tired of servility
wrapped inside the ring of black burning passion

we are the embrace

frozen in background of a singular nothingness
for which seems like an eternity but which shall
only last for a desperate twinkle of time
while savoured feasts of memories brew in our being

but long as we are bound

baited to the hook of grand order
crunched and gnashed under weight of divine province
we will part in an eye's blink again
like melody turned to a moan

-- the sun

when tempting scores of breath
inlay the lips of clouds
as winds burn in through east
as ambitions grow loud

a touch of aimless sight
pressed so close to mine
i wait upon my muse
as mortals seek divine

to slip into your thought
in musings of your being
as pouting tulips grin
ensign a twilight's scene

with wishes etched in sky
when moon rides into dark
you land into my dreams
my breathing evening star

nervous blossoms seal the fate
of dreamy tulips red
swim across the lights in skies
in layered words unsaid

a mind of fluttering breezes pure
when dabs on screens of night
like smells of distant drops on earth
it blossoms at her sight

though needs to live a certain way
does heart of beating rain
while clouds do part from showers yet
they shall meet again

he read the mind of God

found it's a four lettered word.

chiseled on the face of snow
winter sleeps in porous white
silent drift as frozen souls
swims in dreamer's tired eye
put upon a jilted mask
by who's hearts are made of ice

time to melt away the nap
split the coat of seedy cage
bloom into the tints of pink
spring and blossom, seize the day

these resplendent mosses wild
curl in lush of ferns asleep
toe across the floor of dark
but with feather'd pixie feet
swooning babble by the noon
step a breathing melody

while slippery rays of sun
torn and terrified
do fall in forest seat
melt at pleasure's sight
when shadows sweep the air
challenge the greatest heights
through steepest layers of dream
its time the mind shall climb

stumble shed the cloak
fly or run in deep
journey past the forest's
verdant canopies
as seasons paint upon
canvas of crimson trees
in while the hollows sing
to those fallen asleep

i'm yet to find myself
through misty layers adrift
journey's far across
and into abyss

lone below palatial mounts
secluded outcast
the twilight dives in echoes
in layers of shadows past

a sound of broken trails
hunted waned or lost
scorching blood and sweat
never once forgot

she rises holding breath
swims in heavens high
no one's come this far
swooning to her sky

as dancing glint of stars
laid upon its smile
the adagio of dream
my gift to you is life

shores are stained by beams
embrace of waning moon
seeped in sight of hers
jaunty lyrics swoon

laden with the dust
brewing names apiece
stuttering waves tie
to her velvet feet

now that sky is ash
burnt a black by sun
frozen lucid rhymes
caught in tangles run

riding winds of night
on fields of moaning dew
sleeping poppies red
breathe a jasmine hue

scented airs of which
could sway a ****** soul
for taste of honeydew
surely abandon whole

steal me from the mute
pages of dry songs
from swirling aimless plight
thirstily forlorn

for words are blood on ink
each escape from heart
and rest in cozy pauses
in prayers laid apart

meant for you to love
chaos of stormy calm
as it turns its face
away from tranquil dawn

and while you carry me
to eyes of heavens loose
i shall be home in time
to kiss the lips of moon