Columns of red lights
And headlights
Of slow moving vehicles
Some roaring, some howling
And some, comfortably blowing
The air reeks, the road
The road persistently
Seals the wheels
And the drivers, the riders
Barely visible
Hound the maze.

There is no insight
In illusion of stories
Beclouding your universal mind
Machination excavates
The earth of character
Breaching tenor of vision
The burning candle weeps
Tears of unfulfilled sapience
In the stillness of night
The fabrication of perception
Disempowers awareness
Compromising clarity
It was yesterday
When roads were unpaved
The spirits untamed
Wise ones were held in high regard
The birds displayed the way
And the Earth rolled unfazed
But today
Today is the face of tomorrow
Promoting future's paradise
And demoting present's purview
Today is the remnant of yesterday's joy
And the prelude to tomorrow's ploy.

Earthly time is fine despite Death
The eternal dark out of which
Shadows creep sparking illusions
That hold sway over dreams.
I came from darkness
To store the burning Light
That echoes the yells of creation
Toward some demotic destiny.
Achievements soothe so little
Within the web of eclectic waste
We tend to call societies
Run by the elite undergrowth
Who pay no heed to evergreens.
It was only yesterday
When i first went to school
When i tasted my first cigarette
My first beer, first *******
When i wrote my first poem
And many things in between
Well, out of long list of vices
Only cigarettes have survived
And they probably will
Till my stiff body
Touches the cramped coffin.
Scoop me up Ursa
In your *****
My spirit shall bask
Playing heavenly marbles
Within the volatile void.

God's winter is cold
Making my earth a ball of ice
No loving person in this town
Big-ups to vagrant lover
Kudos to highwayman
I betrayed my pride again
Though nothing have i taken
I feel totally drunk and wasted
Oh God let her not say no
For i become more terrible
Than i already am
God's winter rolling
Oh how cold's the weather
I'm afraid that my sweetheart
Won't come back no more
My heart's no longer a heart
But a knot of pain
God see what she's done to me
I betrayed my pride again
Look what her love
Has handed my soul
Temper of a fighting fool
No tolerance in God's custom
My head is full of smoke
In the midst of freezing fate  
I got a fever from sorrow.

It is the dumb hour of night
Bereft of all maneuvers
Shadows have come and gone
Spending their agendas
The canvas bland as space
Drapes mute and motionless
As hidden truths
Not a stroke felt
Not a single word flickers
Off intersecting ink
There must be a gale
Deep into the mind
Winnowing
Chaffs of memory.

Got to move on
To another town
And another dawn
Where time delays to show
The regularity ahead
And thoughts crave to pitch
Deep within my mind
The freshness of search.
And my haunted heart
The outlaw
Induced to finesse
And seize the heart of day
Prepares itself
As though unfamiliar.

By the dawn of day
This parson pilfers
The tongue of its prey
And flutters it at will
Till the shades of evening turn grey
And if fact is there,
All the way into caves of twilight.
It deals with opposition
Quite different way:
A sudden wit, a swift play
Followed by hypersonic heed
And that's it
The enemy is shed
And maintained by lightning whips
Or sweet succession of
Lilliputian leaps.
Don't oppose its sermon for too long
For it stuns the breath
Heaven's assigned it a sign
Lovers can read
And beasts endeavor to destroy it
Welcome its weightless landings
For it never rests
Until nestled by fate.

Chattering of china
Twittering of utensils
The scoop of melting grease
Manifesting the release
The smoke of sizzling meat
Saturating the nostril
And the waitress
Half slavish
Flirts here and prattles there
To dodge the malice of moment
In the ring of endless hustle
Where refills are free
And rewinds obliged.

Time descends
And in descending,
Truth becomes stronger in will
And weaker in feel
Till all is found
In a square ground
With no more beauty
To disguise the boundary.

A thing of beauty
Is a joy forever
Don't trade hues of paradise
With dyes of duty.

Life is lavender and garnet
Or is it green and white
It could be what one sees
In spite of the obvious.

No calla lily grows in sky
Be it black or blue
Yet both views can inspire
Beauty's bloom.

Deep into the turns of being
The stranger rides with masks
Carting the curve of rainbow
Over enchanted tracks.

Perfection almost
Paralyzed my psyche,
Should have been a monkey
My head of intentions.
There would have been though
Incarcerating beam
And guilt thermometer
If I had static ego.

Ah, let them fool me
With their fettered flaws
Their freedom is but lettered laws
And their fancy, out of lee.
Their claws, though I could,
I would not wring to tears
I would not lease
Their learnings to fear
For I'm certain
They can not rule me.

The aim for my fame
Lies in the bottom of my name
The name of shadow
That charms my game
By the variation of Sun
And runs it to egotistic height
In the hellbound highways of night.

Before i blossom my mettle
I must constantly stipple
Hues of handsome faith and fire
Of amaranthine desire
That would turn my pith to petals
After all the leaves have levels.

Has many lamps
Yet wanders the dark roads
In search of luster
Atypical to its core
Let it hit the walls
And burst its flaws
Let it fall and break that lighter
Delusion is darling
For interim glory
Self realization
Anchors the wealth of story
Alterity is a sweet high
Disguising the mind
But true honey
More bitter than walnut's rind.

The Light that i keep
Is camouflaged
Beneath layers of truth and lie
No matter how far or old i get
The splendor of youth
Keeps me nigh.
The Darkness in me
Is mesmerized
Through the feel of eye and ear
No matter how high or low i get
Tilts of moment
Shift my gear.

Soothing shadows surround me
You whom i never met
Offer me love and comfort
In the church of darkness.
I search the moments in vain
For some sensuous touch
Some scent of unearthly perfume
I only find the headlights
Of slow moving vehicles.                
I can not shake out
The sensation of soft sin
Ravaging my bones
I bow down to respect
The mysterious mist
To ask forgiveness
But the moment has long gone
Gone into the galactic dumpster
Yet its residue resides
In everlasting look of madness.

Miles and miles of rippling water
Come to a seeming halt where
An uninterrupted line
Draws the edge of my vision.
A limit within limitless
As if some remote wall
Just below the water level
Paralyzing the flow against my eyes.
Are my eyes, who capture the stars,
Destined to some distant miles
Or is this unsquared world
A temporary playground in disguise.

If clouds be bulk of sun's cheer
And its laugh the thunder i hear
After its volts have frightened mine
Love be a conceivable wine.

Where I come from
Is still a mystery to me
By "I" I mean my essence of course
And not the flesh
For flesh comes from another flesh
Going back all the way
To the Neanderthal human and beyond.

It is difficult for me to pinpoint
The origin of my whereabouts
I have only notions here and there
Which are only self-satisfying
And do not observe logic
Or scientific principles
However, logic and science
Are not quite mature as yet.

When I give free rein
To the drift of my thoughts
Letting them be carried here and there
In the sky of identity
I could come up
With a host of possibilities
Each more visionary than the other:
I could be the offspring
Of the Man on the Moon
I may be a bundle of dazzling photons
From Sirius for others think
I have a brilliant mind
My fire may have originated
From the bowels of a mountain
Due to my spiritual strength
And rebellious nature
I could be Nietzsche's Overman
Transmitting Zarathustra's ideals
I see myself as egg of freedom at times
Hatched by Archaeopteryx
I may be Mother Nature's anti- hero
Come to set things aright
I might as well be Pax's posterity
Setting back the circus of Life
My core may have come
Solely from Mother Earth
Or come from an alien nation
Beyond the Milky Way
My nature may have erupted like lava
Out of a falling meteor
Sometimes I get the notion
That I have come from a magical sphere
Promoting the *******
Of some sorcerer's scheme
I might be all of the above
A votary of Universe's infinite philosophy.

Colors of origin cannot be painted
In black and white
Despite Night's image
And diligence of Daylight.

One cannot perceptively
And comprehensively write about death
And the obvious reason is
One is alive when doing it
Death remains an idea
For as long as breathing exists
And ideas are as innumerable
As the grains of sand
Even when individuals,
Preferably adroit writers or good poets,
Who have undergone
Near-death experiences
Can't fully set forth the ins and outs
Of death because they were not
Privy to the total experience.

The fact remains that we must all die
And be done away with our ****** forms
And transcend the physical world
And where our souls go is up for debate
They surely go somewhere to become
Part of an incomprehensible whole
And whether we come back to Earth
Or remain out there, is another subject
Giving rise to theories or assumptions.

Death is favored by the ones
Tethered with terminal illnesses
Unwavering cruelties, emotional agonies
And a host of other circumstances
Involving the parameters of evil
So contrary to the popular belief
Death can be gratifying even magical
And I would go as far as saying
That death is a cure a panpharmacon
For implacable sufferings stemming
From the imperfections of this world.

I do not have a preference for where I go
After I die as long as it is not
A place described by world religions
Other than that, the road to
Indistinct reality is wide open for me
My spirit maybe zapped
To a poetic paradise
Due to the curse of being a poet
Then again, I may end up in Dante's
Inferno which wouldn't surprise me
For I have not been a very good
And upright man in my affairs
I wanted to be decent and virtuous
But I couldn't, I couldn't because
The world around me wouldn't allow it
Despite all my efforts
To disentangle myself from its reality
That wrapped itself around me
Like a vise grip
I'm a human, weak and unpossessing
Of iron strength after all
So I surrendered to pressure
And entered the turf of temptation.

Hens scampering in the village of Parma
Appeasing the rooster's pride

An acre of corn nestling
The soft serving Earth

Some light years away
The explosion of a star
Extends the reign of darkness

Kristina in her T-shirt
Looking at her **** in the mirror
Wondering how much firmer they get
She is nineteen years old
And wants to become an artist
But her mother has other ideas

The clock chimes the midnight hour
And Tom is sitting in the dark
Debating whether to do it or not
Whether to dispel the itch or wallow in it
He is idyllic and knows nothing
Of politics, nothing of religion
And nothing of death

In the street corner
Harlots talk about tricks
Talk about positional preference
And talk about cunning
One day they are the masters
Of their worlds and the next
Objects of subjugation

A ****** of crows circle overhead
The pitch of their cawing growing

The clergyman wearing a purple robe
Pays tribute to ****** Mary
He is positive that his moralizing sermon
Would enlarge his drove of disciples
His submission to the Cross
Is double-edged: one about God's work
And the other about mammon

An osprey swoops down
And catches a trout

Silver and gold are bought and sold
In the marketplace
Asteroids surge through
The incalculable Space
Time effects and erases
Prospects of understanding

Mason is an obscure poet
He admires Rilke's philosophy of writing
Even though he is well educated
In aesthetics of language
His own poetry verges on insanity
He says: either mad or dead

The General brushes his mustache
He is about to give a farewell speech
To his subordinates
He is not going to ignite them
With bravery or his achievements
Instead, he is going to stab their spirits
What do they know
These fancy pants of generalship

The lioness fails to make a ****
Oh, but there is another prey

The Heart aches for peace
For eternal release from the binds of
Temporal tricks
The Mind, whether a master or slave
Miscalculates the essential needs
And the Body, sanctuary of soul,
Craves for food, ***, rest and breeding

Czeslaw Milosz would have been
The President of the World
Joseph Brodsky:
His Secretary of Independence
Robert Frost:
His Secretary of Freedom
William Butler Yeats:
His Secretary of Peace
Pablo Neruda:
His Secretary of Pleasure
Only if Fate had been kind enough.

Poetry is a gateway to salvation
Where day is subjugated
And darkness reigns
Where dying drains
And spirituality, illuminated.

Tongue is derived
From striking feel
Fusion of words
Portray the deal.

Poets whether inferior
Good or great
Unload the gratifying freight.

A loving touch of a lion
The spark of a smile
A sudden burst of laughter
The paintings in sky
A lone traveller
Bound to nowhere
The drizzling of autumn rain
Stillness, flow
Detachment, devotion
Testament to poetry's motion.

What songs should we sing
In praise of sunshine and
Magic of moonlight
In praise of Nature's beauty
And Animal Kingdom
In praise of solitude
And matrimony
For speech alone
Cannot be captivating
We need Music and Poetry
The twins of creation's kindness
The reasons for hope and peace.

Poetry fuels the fire of fairness
Preserving humanity in life.

If the truth is to deny
The agonies that love invites
My heart shall insidiously aim
To ****** her, days and nights.

But as she agrees to bind
And trust in my constant song
I credulously attend
To care for and court her long.

Gonna keep away for few days
From the eyes of entire town
From the lies and outcries
And the depressing vibes
Wanna go and be earth's companion
Be friend of rain's fragrance
And out of the purity of wellspring
Inhale a new impression
Gonna leave my soul
In the hands of wind for a while
Gonna give a bracing hello
To the Sun and get past
These ill-lit days
I need to feel Nature's truths
And be bathed by its variety
I'm tired of all repetitions
Tired of all smoke and iron
I feel breathless in open air
And need a little window
A little change of construct.

Calm down my heart
You have fought many fights
And won almost all
No more shall you be encouraged
To fight others' arguments
You have proven your warriorship
To war birds above
No more should you battle
No more should you be in the middle
Fighting for justness and honesty
This world shall never be entirely right
So rest and enjoy your remaining days
With the magic of your soft side
The side that can make a horse
Whinny with pride
The side that birds vie to possess
The side of forbearance and virtuous vibe
You were tossed into valley of shadows
And came out in one piece
Yes my heart you've earned your feathers
You were never afraid of dying of death
And at times in solitude
You sought quietus
My beloved heart
You were thrown into madness
To be trampled on to be subdued
But your resolute rebellion
Saved me from caving in
From giving up my free spirit
Now my heart you deserve quietude
Your peaceful time is on the horizon
Bask in the spirit of Sun
Settle in the silver of moonlight
And explore the skies
Of impossible dreams

How did the first poet come about
Which feathered friend
Unlatched his tongue
Pitching his wits to sky of views
To detect fire of flowers
To discern the link of above and below
To reflect on drift of words
To visit invisible nations
To conceal his creative nucleus.

Before the transformation
He must have been an ordinary man
With sleepy ears and shrouded eyes
Mundane like the face of afternoon
Whether by chance or divine decree
He was crowned by feathers of Simurgh
And given a plot of sky to wander
To sing of morning and of night
To sing of colors, of trees, of flight of birds
Of taste of wine, of berries, of hazelnut
To sing of wings of life
To relieve the pain of confinement
To reveal the crack of cage
To become paragon of originality
To settle in heaven of finesse
And brandish hell at the oppressor.

My life has mostly been
Foolhardy and footloose
I hardly ever follow man-made rules
How to experience Elysium's ray
When felonious fools
Govern the pulse of day

Life's waves are packed in a whim
Or waltzing rocket of a fantastic dream
Life spills art into potter's clay
Or the canvas making the painter's day

Life's wagon is steered by fact and fiction
Conveying mysteries and mores
Who knows of tomorrow's scores
When today's order ends in suspicion

Life may be a heavenly enclosure
Rolling round the belt of blessing
Or a dungeon dull and depressing
Illuminating the dooming share

Life of a bird, an animal or a plant
To Nature's beauty lends a hand
Whereas humans commonly defile
Mother Nature's artistic style

Life could be a balloon ride peaceful
Or a runaway ideology generating war
Life tailors tragedy purposeful
Or fashions fortune going far

The looks of Life
Are numerous to fully mention
Besides, I'm not wise
To the entire dimension.

Ravens shrill and doves coo
Round the taverns of rolling day
                     Where
Gnostics listen to darkling whistles
And every *** enjoys its bray.

Our house is far away
Beyond barren deserts
Behind unexcitable mountains
Where golden meadows thrive
Our house is other side of sorrow
Other side of restless waves
It's behind cypress forests
It is in dreams, in sleeps
Near that sacred garden
Past pear orchards and vineyards
Our house is beyond the clouds
Other side of hopeless pains
At the end of moistened roads
Behind the rain behind the sea
Our house is rich in story
Tales of sour cherry and mulberry
Our house is amidst
Assuring laughters
Full of drowsy souls
It has ponds with patient fishes
Alleys with coquettish cats
Our house is warm and sincere
Old pictures hanging on the walls
Picture of paradise on the veranda
Picture of shoreline in summer
Picture of that day under the rain
Eyes full of tears and a suitcase
Leaving loved ones behind
Leaving kindness behind
Our house is far away
Hidden from world's despair.

Only you are more beautiful than you
Thousand flowers can't beat your bloom
You are a mystifying marvel soft as down
An awakening airing the gift of dawn
Gods must have been high or highly fine
To fashion something incredibly divine.

With lips of rosy gold and emerald eyes
With dusky hair and shapely eyebrows
With sonsy face and alabaster skin
With chisled nose and voice of serene
You are the lone star in the sky of mortals
Shining with fantastic materials
Your flaming aura captures vanity
Topping the height of urbanity.

You are a work of humanizing art
That keeps your mind open
And enriches your heart
Your spirit wanders like the breeze
Spreading the wonders of your kiss
They would lay silver, gold
And diamond at your feet
To inhale the fragrance of your heat.

When twilight settles and shadows rise
To assail the magic of your eyes
Your guardian dragon spews ancient fires
Extinguishing all iniquitous desires
For you are the epitome of natural glory
Portraying Love's genuine story.

I am nothing but a speck of light
Striving to examine the dark
The spell that I cast
Upon terrains and waters alike
Spread the legacy of my spirit's mark
In my dreams I see sanctuary of joy
In waking hours, only a ray of hope.

Father of all fathers Lord of the Universe
Are you alone or have companions
My feelings lead me to believe
That you are solitary
But my reasoning says otherwise
My reason and emotion
Lock horns most of the time
Is this where madness come from?

I only possess a modest strength
So I turn to imagination for uplift
I imagine of flowing
Toward the center of Universe
If such thing ever exists
I imagine of being a star
In the deepest dark
Glowing with everlasting equanimity
Which soothes the rebel in my heart
I dream of me wandering like the breeze
Hoping to strike the meadows
Of undisturbed peace
Where humanity blossoms.

I'm free of hate but fighting
With reasons of fate
I'm free of chain yet faced with
Seasons of pain
Shadows that surround me in despair
Are too many to defy
So I listen and absorb the craft
Which renders me exposed
But the hopes of Hope lie in the loop
For no minutes and seconds shall pass
Without terminating the past.

After all the fleeting years
I'm here breathing still
And nothing to show for
Except the strength of my faith
Embracing the unearthly temple
Of spiritual fire.

Years don't make wisdom
They just make old age
Generations have passed
Through the turned pages
Yet I'm no wiser
Than credulous kid of past
Who charged everything to heart
Whiling away the hours
No, the years don't make wisdom
They decelerate celerity of youth
Compromising clarity of Love
Years are but bricks building walls
Between factual and imagined calls
Between relations of understanding.

Many doggedly believe there is one God
Ruling as a divine singular entity
Stamped with omnipresence
Omniscience and omnipotence
Agnostics take the safe route rather than
Shouldering such unclear creed
Atheists do away with
The existence of God altogether
And there are others who put
God's adversary on a pedestal.
It wouldn't be off base to say
Their views are self-satisfying
That they pick and choose according
To the depths of their understanding
Of course external means have a hand
In forming their ideas that may
Or may not transmute over time.

Nobody can confidently establish
The existence or non-existence of God
Whether it is all good or not so good
In terms of actions and directions
But the crux of the matter is:
Some force must represent the good in us
It might as well be God, the Almighty
The Creator, Allah, Father or any other
Handles that we may come up with
To exemplify goodness for mankind's
Perception of Devil is not all favorable.

God's spirit can be omnipresent
Only if it is residing in everything
And if that is the case, it stands to reason
That such spirit be omniscient as well
For it can sense what you and I
And other life forms are aware of
So its omniscience could be a package
Of ongoing knowledge so to speak
God's spirit can be all-powerful
Only if the entirety of human beings Resolutely believe in its omnipotence
Which is another way of saying
Fear of God begets good behavior.

Is it not wise and practical to pull God
Out of the grips of religion
Out of the clutches of theologians bent
On furthering their versions of theism
And isn't altogether safe to do away
With God as peak of authority
Perched high upon the clouds
Prepared to punish or to reward.

God's spirit can be thought of
As the epitome of collective goodness
An instrument for thwarting evil deeds
Good spirits do not give orders nor do
Intimidate and nor do misguide
They deal in uprooting mental weeds
Which disturb the thought process
As well as blurring the vision
An amazing feat sustaining flow of creed.

God's spirit or the existing goodness
In the world, serves as a shining beacon
Waiting to bring home
The vessels lost in the mist of pessimism.

Guardrail of goodness goes far and wide
Even in territories suspect
Curtailing the range of danger
And evil's prospect.

Of course bad things happen
To good people all the time
Nature's calamities and Fate's tragedies
Cannot be mastered neither can
The atrocities of unrefined minds
But the important thing is
The sustenance of goodness
For without it
Our world would sink into Hadean abyss.

Let us not be wed
By clergy's verbal fog
Or through the fiction of State's seal
Neither of which ensures
Love's appeal
Let us not get hitched at all
For Love despises chains
Let us just ride
On waves of faithfulness
Free of promise, paper and point
Let us run wild and glide
Over the fence of freedom
That custom installs
The clandestine halls
Awaiting our trespass
To celebrate the union
Of a witch and a sorcerer
Of two rebel souls.

To survive simply means to prolong life
And for what?
God's plan or the Devil's program.

I survived many plights
Many traps I escaped from
Though I didn't know why
Was I supposed to be doing God's work?
Or was it the Devil's device
That kept me alive?
I might have been acting on instinct
Or doing the bidding of some
Unseen force interested in my survival.

I can honestly say
That I'm liable for misfortunes
Arising out of my continuity...
Why couldn't I just be laid to rest
And avoid all displeasing circumstances?
Well, such is the way of the world
One is totally unaware
Of creation's objectives
Though some may argue that the purpose
Is the flow of all living things
If so, then how do they justify
The extinction of certain species
And what about a useful tradition,
Belief or culture no longer extant
They did not possess life but
Certainly gave rise to a way of living
Others may say the intention
Is to live a long life
To reach a ripe old age
Which effects expansive experience
All the same, old age presents
Many complications
Not worth putting up with
Besides, so many young ones
Experience the butcher's knife
Through no fault of their own.

It is a given that some are born
Luckier than others
And the ratio favors the unlucky ones
Some of whom fall short of surviving
Despite their earnest efforts.

Oh, the agitation of survival.

I can straight out say that I'm a survivor
That I have passed the test of evil
And to what end:
Desertion of beauty
Exclusion of excellence
And the application of chicanery.

Tonight I write down my sadness
With lines echoing your memory
The silent cloud bursts into tears
As if it knew my sorrow
I used to be your cloud
Wandering the sky of your heart
You were my best friend
And at times upon your sensitive frame
I poured down my rain
In faithful drops of feeling
Other times I would unload my devotion
With generous caress of kisses
Upon your stoic countenance
My soul is sad
And will stay sad
Till I rediscover
Your magnetic might
Till I rediscover
Your charming light
Wherever you are
Whatever you doing
In the afterlife
Know that your son
Will never eschew
Such paragon of virtue.

Follow us naked Moon
Follow us to the North
Where your soft light
Be caressing pinnacle of pain
Be easing sun beaten breast
Or to the South to redeem our sins
Bestowed upon us by our fathers
Sins rooted deeply in our purpose
Naked Moon your silver spears
Don't care much for East and West
A routine you been ditching inch by inch
So we just move up and down
Like a yo-yo played by Sun
We shall play the role of a pawn
Plotting ways to become a queen
To break the insensible System
And protect the King of dreams
Naked Moon you are a globe of salt
A cobalt of crystallinity
Orbiting in a near perfect circle
Give us a portion of your dark stuff
Give us our daily doubt
Enrich our curious character
Give us the magic we deserve
Follow us to the end of curve
Leading us from behind
Protecting our impressionable minds.

Societal dependency
A disease disguised as validation
Ruling out subjective truths
The indifferent Universe
Testament for choosing
An autonomous path
Being in the dark, is not a valid answer
For exploration of one's might
One may suffer incessantly
In order to lift the doors
One can never reach the zenith
By succumbing to the norms.

The silent star gazing back at me
Revealing the planted darkness
Creeping up my mind
But when did it get there
Certainly not at birth.

Toward Left or toward Right
Each with advantages and disadvantages
Canceling out the ultimate reward
Of coalescing with Creation
Hence, what must one do
To rise above the mist of understanding
The key lies in the fist of defiance.

I am a rebel with a cause
Forging ahead with the enlightenment
Of conforming crowds.

The fantasy of my fruity art
Unbosoms the watermelon of my heart
Where juices fall in cascade of oranges
Streaming the cherries of my eyes
Transporting them to lake of plums
Where apples, pears and bananas drift
By the waves of gustoso grapes
And undertow of cantaloupes relates
The astrology of pomegranates
Scintillating the zest of figs
Inspiring the feasting of berries
No fruit shall be bereft of role
For every fruit's taste expands the soul.

My earthly desires dwindling day by day
I only fancy food, rest, light exercise
And some simple amusement such as
Writing poetry and listening to music
That are necessary for staying aware.

How time flies I have yet to comprehend
Unimaginable how years
Are packed into days
And diligence of days
Forgotten in a flash.

Luckily I still have all my senses intact
And can't complain about health issues
Nevertheless, I won't attempt to take
Flight of stairs for more than two floors
If I don't have to for I get winded
Due to a lifetime of smoking
As for walking, I can do a mile each day
Which enhances my thought process
And I am grateful for that
I do not wish to reach a stage
When others need to take care of me
If there are any "others" of course
And willing to do so.

I have lived my life one day at a time
More precisely, moment to moment
My philosophy of life dwells in the Now
Never has gone beyond it and never will
Such is the order of spiritual reasoning
Keeping one eye on life, one eye on death.

I have a penetrative mind  
Soaring beyond the clouds
Telepathizing with birds
Acknowledging their flair
They keep me company
These paradigms of elegance
I have learned a lot from them
Through unspoken words
I am just a secretary taking down
Their inspiring instructions
Which may lead to a type of poetry
Hopefully enjoyed by others
I hope I can do this for as long
And as far as possible
Because nowadays at my age
Anything can go wrong at any time
This is the struggle one has to deal with
When getting old.

The love of a woman in pure form
Will break every bone of my emotions
I'm too scared to enter such hellish house
Too coward to swallow such fire of love
That reduces my flame to burning ashes
Keeping me away from reviving wind
Suffocating but not dead I remain
Till I be consumed fully by her holy art
Where I shall rise again like a Phoenix
But my feeble mind, my scaredy ego
Can't handle such trying transformation
And I remain in what could have been
Where my heart regrets the lack of sand
The danger I be too afraid to stand
Lucky the man who falls in the well
The abyss of pure fire of woman.

Jung wrote that we must confront
Our shadows in order to become whole
Well, what if the shadow itself
Is the cradle of wholeness
And facing it head-on
Would result in its refusal to cooperate
Inner shadow is meant to play
Behind the scenes, anonymous
One should integrate with the shadow
Rather than overstep its safety zone
No renowned psychologist remained sane
After delving into the forbidden zone
After battling the hidden ghost
Psychology is the arch-enemy of poetry
What poetry tries to bring to light
Psychology hinders its flight
Was the world ever in such chaotic mode
Before the frontiers of Psychology
Were crossed over in enthusiastic drive
To integrate with the inner shadow
One needs spiritual awareness
One needs poetry that shapes the sense
One needs the storm of Nature's feel
One needs doses of emotional healing
That flowers, trees, animals, birds bring
The offerings of Psychology is mortal
The presents of Poetry, immortal

It must have been yellow
But I saw blue
A trick of mind, of eyes perhaps
A chest of treasure my heart recalled
But my mind saw the sea
My eyes caught sight of hyacinth
My days are filled with doubts
Leading me to walls of auspicious delay
Friends of sky safeguard my freedom
Silver mysteries kick-start my rhythm
Where to go, what to do
I do not know till the moment arrives
I'm an archer in the midst of targets
But I wouldn't shoot without bets
Apples, oranges, strawberries
Make unconventional wines
Blue jays, cardinals, hawks
Carriers of lofty signs
My mistakes are breaks
Among fast-moving flock of exactitude
My horse is wary of the right roads
Afraid of skidding across the courts
Whose lips should I read
And how should I read them
Manners hidden between the lips?
Tenseness, directness, amusement
Or just pure nonsense
I will not be correct in my solution
For the lips are moved
By unseen masters
Controlling the moment's evolution
Sureness, Sureness you are a fraud
Authenticating my display of doubt.

Pretty lie or uncomfortable truth
Which one shines brighter than the Moon
In a world fraught with saps and crooks

The throne entangled with scandal
The saber of law mishandled
The crowd, manufactured with handle

Political hacks and religious nuts
Bewitched by the fantasy of mission
Prolong their flaws to perdition

Where there is pain there is thinker
Where there is rhyme there is singer
Where there is honey there is stinger

Off to dream road so she walked
Images of Heaven she merrily sought
Wondering what will be her lane's lot

In the stillness of night he pondered
Why must he be so encumbered
When delightful dreams are conquered

I may be this and I may be that
But I'm certain I'm never last
Never first and never pressed

Cornerstones of celestial bodies:
Rhythm, Rotation, Speed, Gravity
Delineating the Depths of Reality

Embroidery fabrics in Time and Space:
Black holes, dark matter, dark energy
Quasars and all seven types of stars
Planets, moons, asteroids, comets
Created to plot the edgeless tapestry
Of the mystifying Universe.

I walk the evening streets
Familiar, impartial yet distant
I overtake the blocks
Waiting for silky thoughts
That may compel my heart
To intensify my freedom
Streets give meaning
To stores, shops and stalls
To lamp posts, signs and traffic lights
Where would they be without streets
A sense of observation tickles my spine
I stop walking and sit on a bench
What to observe I say to myself
How about that woman wearing a shawl
Window shopping with hankering eyes
Or that little boy jumping around
Agitating the passers-by
Between the curves of the woman
And the unbridled energy of the youth
I get confused
Which one would boost my freedom
Then my attention is diverted
Toward a quiet mutt
Observing with knowing eyes
Affording me a sly glance
I get up and start to walk again
Only to stop at a pastry shop
The smell is enticing
Inviting me to go in and get
Some marmalade, toast and tea
But the fire is overwhelming
The fire of freedom
Imploding my intent to smithereens
Sapping the joy out of my desire
After all the turns and twists of evening
After the delays and distractions
How should I maintain my traction
I shall walk and walk and walk
Till my mind loses gravity
Till I no longer carry the freight
Of thoughts, stories and traits
Then can I say
I have rendered the evening obsolete
Lifted its veil and tossed it
Over the stretch of streets
Then can I say I am free.

Transcending the burden of breast
The Heart flexes its fire
Igniting the primal engine
With a sibylline blaze
Pistons of arcane knowledge
Nestled in cylinders of inner self
Pumping juices of rare reality
Into climate of cranium
Potentializing the Psyche
Eclipsing cerebral light of identity
Emotions flow in radical form
Corking up Ego's roar
To lay out a mechanized equilibrium
Where the Self participates
In supernal dance
And rewrites the purpose of existence.

Faith competes with visible things
Giving us an extra eye and wings
To see beyond the fog of thought
To fly above the hills of night
It is not security that it offers
But a colt of courage that inspires
When times are dismal laced with woe
And the inner light can barely glow
When the road is chaotic with emotions  
And escape sparks toxic notions
Faith shall knock on the door
Volunteering to furbish heart's decor
Throughout history's pages
Faith has been a talisman for ages.

I'm beyond hills and mountains
Beyond shell-ridden shores
I'm Beyond the daily deal
Beyond the vitals of the will
I'm Beyond science and credibility
Beyond poetry and everyday sanity
I'm beyond law and order
Beyond regulating doors
My heart craves for
The sugar of humanity
Desires, dreams and aims
Cannot hold me back
From the flames of supernal track
I'm in the academy of Nature
Learning the lessons of future:
The winds of evolution
The colors of illusion
Stream of solitude is my teacher
Tenor of spirit, my preacher
My ship is at the sea of emotion
Plowing the waters of revolution
This journey of mine
Will never be outmoded
For the battle remains
Where compassion is corroded.

My imagination is crazy wild
Wilder than Poe's poems and stories
Wilder than Nature's fury
Nothing seems impossible to construct
In its enchanting forge of creation
My imagination climbs
Wherever logic crawls
Sometimes I knock on its door
When I cannot get off the floor
Sometimes it pulls me in
Like a maniac magnet
For it misses my playful madness
When I'm fit squarely on its wheel
It thrills me to visit the hills
The hills of visionary transportation
Where my senses get satisfied
Through dreamy flights
To supernatural heights
Where self is no longer itself
But a pair of variegated wings
Soaring the sky of bliss
Whoever or whatever created mankind
Perfectly knew in advance
That without imagination
Human race wouldn't be able to survive.

Ah yes, the guiding glow of id
The steering glacier of ego
The eternal light of quest
The ephemeral radiance of conquest
The song of nightingale that bears
The emotional tones of wanderers
Ah yes, the revolution of madness
The waterless shore of enchantress
The muteness of fearful assenter
The repeating yells of dissenter
The mystery that keeps me awake
Toppling my rational mind's take
Ah yes, the revealed shapes in a dress
The humps and bumps that impress
The costly curves that make men wonder
What awaits them should they blunder
The scarlet feathers of women
The cerulean plumage of men
Ah yes, the auspicious blade of master
The hopeless craft of impostor
The synonyms that make life boring
The antonyms that make it alluring
The clandestine ring of vice
Constructing the castle of mice
The seductive sway of felines
Obstructing the advance of lines
Ah yes, it is the silence that leads
Leaving noise in the backseat of deeds
Never go beyond your natural degree
For the road is not as clear as you see.