knock, knock,
who's there?
then again,
Couldn't care

I'm lethargic,
mind can't think,
Standing on
edge of brink

someone catch me,
Anyone there?
Anyone love me?
anyone care?

G-d, I beg you,
heed my cry,
G-d I need you,
'Yes', you reply

I hear you say
'that's all i wanted,
to hear you pray,
"L-rd, I'm daunted"

I can't alone
I so need you
nobody else
at all will do

yes, i'm flawed,
You made me so,
I'm a fraud
but good also

so, yes, I'm saying,
i may be swaying,
but from Your Grace
I fall to Your Face

For in the depths
Of the darkness
in back-steps,
when sky is starless

there I know Your hand in mine
there my tears in Yours entwine,
and when i hear Thine Heart beating
I'll know the reason o' mine entreating

that when things are bright
and things look right,
I'm really far
from seeing Your Might

and when i dwell in lifetime's night,
I know that dark adjoins to bright,
and as the moon reflects sun's light,
i know the sun will end the night.

and at the end,
when things unfold,
all will ascend
as of old

for the prophets told of things exemplary
that will be of You testamentary
that all will behold Your Face in reverie
as no more will this world bear stench of treachery

and as past and future fore You are one,
in this moment, it's all begun,
revelation of Your Face,
and in this darkness is Your Grace.

Risorius is a muscle in your face,
a key to happiness and to grace,
It helps pull the angle of the mouth
to smile at jokes or sommat uncouth

situated in the space
twixt mouth corner and your jaw,
on the side of your sweet face
to produce grin or guffaw.

so when next you smile or deride,
though latter's to be used most sparing,
remember that muscle at your side,
and wonder at His creation unerring

A drop 'n a splash
Ripples awake
Thoughts unhash
Poetry make

Pluck a heartstring
Reminisce
draw a ring
round sad and bliss

make a target
draw your bow
shoot your arrow
let rhyme grow

there's music in rhyme,
music in time,
music that plants
eternity twixt chime

poetry is mystery
older than history
its prose is timeless,
the voice of sweet silence.

Truth will last
Falseness will pass
Crumble, out cast,
As dead, dry grass

But what till then the buildings
the edifices built on lies,
how much blood and killings
will they cause on their capsize?

the air is stretching balloon's confines
till, of a sudden, pop!
but pity the persons it defines
all heading for the chop

i lay on the tiles
dust around me
cried like a child
thrown in the sea
waves rise up
higher and higher
a babe's plastic cup
melting in fire
none to reach out to
i slipped and i fell
slid down the avenue
of seven gates of hell

and here i lie
slime on the walls
no silent cry
nothing at all
just ******* blackness
that won't go away
all stale flatness
that won't let me pray
i could carry on
but what'd be the use
life-spirit's gone
now tighten the noose.

As rose begins to light the skies,
Dew'd petals wake from sleep,
As songs of thrush in air arise,
'Midst swallows' swoop and leap,

In that beauty, harsh and hard,
A canard's tail slithers,
A falsehood dressed in truth all marred,
A golden poppy withered,

And shadows grow from day to night,
Crushing love's embrace,
And darkness smothers beacons bright,
The light of Divine Face.

i found Him 'neath rhododendron bush in sheltered, dark enclave
i found Him in the verdant field that swallowed crimson sun
i found Him once on top of fell overlooking veiled concave
i found Him all by myself in place where walketh no one

i whispered words of no-thing-ness, timeless and eternal,
i captured time in a flask upon those pastures vernal,
and when i'm decrepit, dried-out leaf, tired of ties fraternal,
i hold that flask to my lips and drink elixir immortal.

tongue sharpened
deadly instrument
****** into the heart,

world is darkened
soul laments
the world it falls apart.

but 'neath the hardened
heart of insolence
there's a secret smart,

silent sobbing
a soul that's throbbing
longing for new start

look beyond
the painful jibe
the knifing diatribe

look into
his hurting heart
G-d's true work of art

we're no better
or no worse
at core we're all the same

a holy letter
or hallowed verse
of G-d's unspoken Name.

who am I?
i'm the maiden in the sky,
I'm the elder with glass-eye,
i'm the young lad's alibi,
i'm the sum of all that's nigh

all these things combine
defy human's define
these lovely things are mine
and, verily, art thine.

in air crisp
the moon that night
as will-o'-the-wisp's
haunting light

shone upon
the flehmening mare
breath aspiral
in the air

shone upon
majestic beast
shades o' cinnamon
from furthest east

shone upon
in secret awe
and hummed this tune
upon the moor

Twilight where the shadows blend,
Beneath the veil of time,
Where thousand lives their journeys end,
And start eternal climb.

worn and free, in silver mist,
An essence wends its way,
through memories of chances missed,
through plans that now decay.

As dreams and whispers from the past,
Block path, elusive flight,
'Mongst the fragments of broken hearts,
Seeps wraith of fulgent light.

A relic of truth of bygone days,
Good deed that was not lost,
Frail and thin, it shines its rays
And bears the spirit aloft.

we're more alike than different,
our differences add some spice
it makes us more magnificent,
so let's agree to splice

let's butter our bread with peace,
and place a slice o' amicability,
add bread, another piece,
and let's celebrate our affinity.

let's lift our cups in unity,
and cheer to joie de vivre,
let's use G-d's opportunity
and learn to be a giver

smile warmly to another,
even on the street,
the man next door's your brother
try being extra sweet

you'll find you'll start enjoying
your life so much more,
you'll find much less annoying
the bully or the bore

it's good to be alive
when we can help each other
to help each other thrive
to dare to be an 'other'.

so join our hands together
enjoy the mosaic 'n tapestry,
let birds of different feather
sing in majestic harmony.

'Daddy', he asked, 'is it true?'
'did people really **** each other?
underneath this sky so blue,
could one raise hand against his brother?'

'Daddy', he said, 'is that right,
did people not know black from white?
'neath this dome of light so bright,
did people turn the day to night?'

'no, my dear child, of course not,
wherever have you such ideas begot?
this world has always been a spot
of untold peace, G-d's sweet lot'.

'but Daddy', he persisted, 'I read it was true,
did men keep animals locked in a zoo?
just so that others may look 'n view
a lion or tiger or kangaroo?'

'Daddy', he cried, 'it can't be true!
could people really have been so cruel
to use all scientific breakthrough
of G-d's world as killing tool?'

'child', I answered, 'as your father,
let's have no more of this palaver,
one thing, my son, you can be sure,
this world has never been at war.'

red, the colour of crimson blood
blue, the carrying veins,
green, as colour of unripe spud
the bile of human remains

above all lies the crystal-clear
elixir o' emotions swirled,
the pearl-like diamond of heartfelt tear
that's bigger than this world

In the grey dawn, a crow's call,
Harsh, unbidden, as prophet's cry,
Foretelling unspoken shadows.

On the ancient oak, a sentinel,
Gnarled branches whispering past legends,
Roots clawing the shrouded future.

'Neath the ground, secrets stir
Through the wind's steady howling,
A presage of what's to come.

i felt it coming
tried to deter,
but the drum was drumming,
and the world a blur.

"Come with me, hold my hand,
come with me to another land,
come with me, there's nought to fear,
you'll lose yourself now but you'll soon reappear.''

i lay, mesmerised,
"so soon?" i asked,
a reply, undisguised,
loudly broadcast

without words, shimmered
as thousand suns, glimmered,
waving, surging, infinite kiss
told me 'yes, there's nothing amiss'.

"Come with me, there's end to the sorrow,
come with me, to place of tomorrow,
our loves forever entwine to eternity,
your life to mine bound ever for posterity.''

chanced upon the vegetable bed
a frightened wren off flew
in swiftest glide, straight back and head,
his hind brown tail askew

from there, not far, he lit upon
a branch of kiwi tree
upon which he sung the sweetest trill
whilst eyeing me coyly

'i'm innocent', he seemed to say,
"though smallest British bird,
i went to glean some grass and hay
before your wrath incurred".

and while he sang and probity pled
robin materialised
there on border of raised veg bed,
and slugs 'n flies surprised

'wasn't me either your radishes pecked'
his presence seemed to say,
'it's the bigger birds that ought get checked'
and off he flew away

push me, push me harder,
push me till i cry,
squeeze me in a corner,
crush me till i die

stamp my head with all your might,
use your claws to **** me,
use your skill at dead of night
to snare me like a bilby

and when i finally breathe my last
lying on my death-bed
you'll be there sitting fast
waiting till i'm dead

you'll have tears to show the world
show them how you cared
how at my feet you'd lie up-curled
in my pain you shared

Think 'n quake
'For Ever-awake,
All seeing Eye,
The Invisible I.

Love and fear,
Retreat 'n draw near,
To the Open Ear,
With longing and tear.

Make space in your heart,
Let soul depart,
In lovers' embrace,
To Face of your face.

Love had a son
Light was his name
But Light needed shadow
To see his game.

So Love bore shadow
Darkness was his name
Both born by Love
Light and shadow same.

"Where does He dwell?", sing the angels
"Where's His abode?", their refrain,
between the lips of heart's beseech
Beatific's Light's contain'd.

who is the mighty one?
he who conquers his impulse
his passion to overrun
with aversive repulse

the nimrods who hunt
with affront to confront
us lesser runts
with sneering grunts

have no real strength
or inner gold
only comes at length
of rejoinder withhold

Saw a vase on the table
sweet williams and chyrsanths,
perfect, like from a fable,
ready for French romance.

the greens and reds contrasted
in lively voice of colour
as if they knew their planting
was theirs to scream and holla

Now they're tired and wither,
their heads droop down in pain,
they know not whither nor whether
their strength they will regain

hah hah! human hate hackles,
laughter lunges long lacerators,
carves crucifying cutting crackles
covert cutthroat collaborators.

he placed his hands together,
bowed his head in prayer,
as fingers stretched to aether,
bound by invisible tether

he felt his silent lips
touched by fingertips,
as his heart soared on high,
and words filled the sky

Lady Autumn, in russet hues,
'Neath urban shawl, in shadows fold,
Her softest breath, a poet's muse,
Silk whispers, saffron gold.

Skin aglow, with burnt flushed cheeks,
She fulminates 'gainst dying sun,
In skies that smoulder in crimson streaks,
Her voice, the wind's, lamenting hum,

To every leaf a eulogy,
Tribute to its murmured secret,
Once a part of Symphony,
Now tumbles to a tyre's rut.

Soft the pavements tread her cloak,
In alleyways, in quietude,
Drapes from willow and chestnut oaks,
Now silhouette of awkward ****,

In amber light, in frozen grasp,
As frost begins its creep,
As Autumn yields to Winter's clasp,
As world succumbs to sleep.

there was a man from Tunbridge Wells
who gave off the most offensive smell
friend and foe
told him so
"go away! you smell like *!"

so this man of whom i tell,
the man from Tunbridge Wells,
he took a shower
till he smelt like a flower
and went off to climb the fells

but when he returned from his hike,
he smelt like haddock and pike,
said he, "what's the point
o' me washing me joints?
I'll smell like I ***-well like!"

each day is a fragment of soul
some lopped, some gained,
one day i'll be again whole,
free, like a bird uncontained.

through the grey i sense the smile
through the dark i hear his cry
waiting for me all the while,
aye, until the day i die.

through the blisters, through the pain,
through the losses, through false gain,
for to find the worth of living,
just for giving, just forgiving.

he sat by himself
the man by the fire
sipping his wine
nursing his ire
thinking of those times, of the years gone by,
the children laughing, the jostle, the cry,
watching them grow, each in their fashion,
this one was gentle, this one with passion,
now they're gone as moonlight that flitters,
he's left with those thoughts, a memory that glitters,
the wars of love, of hurt and despair,
as he sips his red wine, alone in his chair.

my sister opened wide the curtains
trust a woman to be the first
ever since linger uncertain
a tendency formed at birth

in private world to be submerged
but yearning for the limelight
frightened of the unrehearsed
perverse desire shine up bright

now i'm seeing the curtains closing
i've had my chance to light the night,
chosen to be self-enclosing,
'stead of straight to shout what's right.

if i had a chance, would i do it better,
would i find the path of strength,
speak up clear without a fretter
walk the path of untold length?

now i find i'm losing hold,
head submerging in the water,
soon to lie in bed of cold,
world apart, universe un autre.

Utterly invisible,
There is a Gown He wears,
Through that Gown He's visible,
To those who are aware...

That Gown reflects His Name,
Hidden in life's affairs,
Through It the world became,
Through It He hears your prayers.

a humanoid is he
no bigger than my thumb
he sits and laughs before me
he says i look quite glum

and when i ask his name
he winks and shakes his head
"what's a name if not for fame
i'll take anonymity instead"

only i can see him
as strange as that may seem
full of vigour and vim
more vivid than a dream

and if you think it's fantasy
the tale i tell you now
a part of inner phantasy
although i don't know how

well, that's your choice and right to say,
i'll not deny you that
but i see him now, as clear as day,
and that's the end of that

Why were we not made with feather'd wing
to glide, to ride, to fly the skies?
Instead, to earth we're born to cling,
to yearn the thermals with our eyes.

And some may ask, or intercept,
why were we not as fish created,
to swim and explore the ocean depths,
instead to walk on ground we're fated?

Indeed, methinks, betwixt the two,
man was made [that's me and you],
to join the worlds in harmony,
the skies, the ground, the sand, the sea.

As microcosm of macrocosm,
he stands in middle of the world,
between greatest distance we can fathom,
and smallest type of life unfurl'd.

As fulcrum of all activity,
we're responsible - that's you and me -
for everything in universe,
for good, for better, or, for worse.

the problem with facebook
or social media
it's voiceless, like a book,
tomes of academia

arid and dry,
blunt and dead,
like burnt pie
or stale bread.

words in a message
cannot emotions assuage,
convey tone or gauge
happiness or rage

if what one smile can do
cannot a thousand words
if one vocal 'thank-you'
like the dawn songbirds

warms the heart,
and engages senses,
as a voice imparts
the feel in sentences

a poet with his prose
seeks to give over
the emotion transpose
from writer to reader

with art and dexterity
he crafts his rhyme,
capturing mirth, sincerity,
sound patterned in time.

what can the brief answer
hope to convey
a deft one-liner
chips from expressaway?

a click here, a 'like' there,
humanity at the mercy of cheap software,
the whims of the callous and apathetic
making your mood, creating fetich.

oh for the warmth of father and son
the ripple of water in afternoon sun
the spider in waiting in web newly spun
the waft and aroma of caramel bun

life's way deeper than a smiling emoticon
facebook likes or poem voted on
don't let the others rule your life
do what you love and give all a fife.

sometimes i feel you behind me
your breath on my neck
'n sometimes i see you beside me
and on my cheek a peck

then the tears inside me
well up in my eyes
and i hear you chide me
with words wondrous wise

i wonder how you'd be
had you lived your lot
you'd be old eighty-three,
not lying in a plot

you'd have your sparkle in your eye,
your smile, your love, your embrace,
but now they're with me, till I die
till we come face to face.

In the greying steel and glass,
hands, dry and blistered, labour,
a merciless smoke turns days to dusk,
as a worker grunts to neighbour

through din and grime, thin bodies mined,
choking in tireless toil,
All dreams quenched, all brains confined
To clunk of drums and oil.

Beyond lies world where riches rule,
Where lies are painted bright,
Marble steps to cerulean pool,
Break the rhythm of light.

Each step another shoulder bowed,
Another voice is numbed,
Another to submission cowed,
As feelings rank, unplumbed.

And dreams are forced to wilt and die,
In factory's metallic guise,
Beneath unseeing, endless sky,
In sweat of muted cries.

I'm knocking on your door
Don't you hear?
Speak to Me. Implore.
Show a tear.

When your tears meet Mine,
Together we shall rejoice,
As moonlight is sun's shine
Yours will be My voice.