rising
from an ocean of obsidian blue
i spy consciousness,
blazing brighter than a billion suns,
fine tuning all it touches.

the blue god is neither awake
nor in slumber
but in a meditative trance.
in his effervescent presence
time turns to ice,
as an orange-lotus blooms
deep within me.

© 2024

sitting here,
accompanied by a cold, dreary november drizzle,
i sip that cup of ambition
yearning for a little melody.

we could’ve been a little something!

as i soak in a tub of melancholy,
i ponder over this incomplete jigsaw puzzle with a gaping hole in the middle.

when will you see that you’re the center piece?
and may be the solution to the riddle.


© 2023

truth be told,
the ticking hourglass will never be our friend.
cos it keeps pushing my milky way
farther away from yours.

somewhere along the way,
you found dharma.
leaving me to waltz on that dance floor alone,
like i did to you, millenniums ago!

back then, i became
poet, philosopher, king and the lord of the universe.
while you stayed behind,
a shy country lass with lotus eyes
pining for my love.

in the quarrels of love and life,
you hid my golden flute
and threw away my loaded dice,
which helped me win
the mundane games of *** for tat.
leaving me now with an inexhaustible quiver of karmas eager to fructify.

as i stand here in a tree pose
regulating my incoming breath,
i the yogi
eagerly await for our galaxies to turn,
perhaps, even collide and kiss some day.

© 2023

only
in that sacred space
between
your perky pink-tipped globes
will my breath be tranquil,
free from the turbulent windmills of the mind.

let anyone come or go
let wild elephants rain,
but promise, to never abandon me.

as i shoulder heavy karmic burdens from this time at bat,
you’ve been my partner in crime.

lock me in a tight embrace,
cos when the waves retreat
and my treatise on love is complete,
there will be no page in which you’re not.


© 2023

with cupped hands
i chase this beautiful orange sunset
to the ends of the earth,
as the universe grudgingly makes other plans.
here, manhattanhenge calls!

fallen red maple leaves neuters a virus,
but only after many stolen dreams and lives,
now time’s scars fill the contours

an iridologist’s tools don’t lie
her love for me, never shy
but as i lie on the bed of the cosmic serpent, i smile,
knowing time’s true turn
and with it,  life, love, death and dreams

© 2023

a novice,  
i may be....

learning the lexicon of love
from a practicing grandmaster
whose expressive kohl-rimmed eyes
dart from side to side,
speaking a million languages of the heart.

transfixed
nay, transformed
an intimidated admirer of hers,
i’ve become,
from such a great distance.


© 2023

how can i ever forget
those penetrating moist eyes
before we bid our final goodbyes.

ringing in my ears now,
are mellifluous incantations
flowing from the synchronized lips
of brahmin priests at this open air temple.

here,
i, as budhanilakanta
adorned with marigold flowers,
recline on a celestial snake,
pondering the blue print
for the next cycle of creation.

one hundred eight lamps
are waved in arcs
as salutations for me,
witnessed by humble devotees.
a spectacle to match
the fireworks of the Milky Way.

but it’s your chosen silence for now,
which resembles the night sky.

as i search for a melody
deep within me,
your face is the pure dawn i seek.
your haunting voice,
the raga, i yearn to hear.

can’t we immerse in the simple joys of human life?
can’t we just add a few more chapters to our cosmic love story?

© 2023