As I beheld a flower of rare beauty
In the silence choked heart of wilderness
The facsimile of a pretty woman came alive
From the coagulated heap of images

A woman…….! Isn’t she
God’s supreme handiwork
An animated form of chiseled art
A joy to behold
A figure of curvaceous ups and downs
God’s beautiful calligraphy
Her skin glowing as satin
Hands and fingers of creamy softness
Eyes reflecting love and gentleness
Voice musical and sweet
Moving with measured cadence
And walking with fluid ease
One who smoothens the rough edges of life
But Alas! A treasure rarely valued.

A loving daughter to her parents
An adorable mate to her man
A forgiving mother to all
The fountain spring of new life
The lovely mother to her children!

Though she is branded by many
As frail or fickle, infirm or impish
How empty is a man’s life
Who hasn’t known a woman,
Either as a mother, sister or daughter
Or a lover, companion or wife
This marvel of creation,
This miracle worthy of adulation!

It’s been a long day,
I come home to you,
Long hours having worked me away,
I know all I want is to be with you.
Your smile melts the day away,
Your touch smoothens the creases.
I know you read my eyes,
Spared me the long talk,
Your hands effortless to pull me closer,
Your most magnificent kiss.
You got me wishing the night never end,
You got me wondering if I’m dreaming this moment we’re in.
Just take me into your loving arms my love,
Just extinguish the craving inside.
Then put me to sleep in your warm embrace,
Making the night go on forever.

You should write poetry
he told me.
And now when I bleed
I bleed only in poetry
Now when I cry
I cry internally
My pen,
The external vein,
The ink,
The endless dripping
dark that is in me,
Now all of my problems
Smoothens out
like the pages in my book
smoothens out
like the cold sleek demeanor I put on
no more tears to shed
Everything is beautiful
In poetry

3600 seconds, golden rich kids among bottle
scavengers, everybody hustlin', revenge?
the lights of society don't shine bright on them
collected bottles for a meal, irrelevant sunsets

the beauty of life decreased, dependency diaries
let lights loosely shine on these teenage giants
memories are opening up like red clouds, floating
in a time lapse, they will remember, in pride

honor and dignity, the one who splits the ocean
creates a shelter for the brothers and sisters
reckoner: burnings sandstorms, playful twisters
the one who smoothens a path to golem land

honey, milk and fruits, get rid of urban metal
come to us, be with us and stay with us
infinite loopholes, adults, kids and groups
the holy swoosh of a curl, your healing, stay

as you are walking through the ocean
as your brothers and sisters are with you
whiteblue words, you catch sentences like air
as you become a part of golem land

of us

the triptych of a bridge

volumes its water...

a passable erasure.

of an altar nothing should

be said.

the triptych of a bridge

smoothens over again.

poised as light murmuring

to its confidant.

setting aside the differences

of air pulled by constant

traffic.

there's this triptych of a

bridge, that knows what

wind is made of...here and

there.

separate as ways gone as far

as they can go.

seeing passed doubles.

An ink and a blot
A paper and its creases
A bored poet at loss
The lone shadow of the candle flame,
Hides the rest of the world from light
An alley cat's stealth walk
Creeps past the window of the poet
He stretches, cranes his neck
There, a maiden trod in the night
Under the canopy shadows of still trees
The wind was queer tonight
The moon seemed bashful too
He reaches out to call
But she turns to look at him
And like a dying wisp of a candle,
She's gone.
Dumbstruck, he sits,
He smoothens out the creases
He ignores the blot
He writes a poem
Of the maiden in the shadows.

Isis unveiled, not her mask
of gold, but truly, her soul
in my naked body

the energy of the world
undresses me from inside
loosens buttons, smoothens

internal bumps
fills dents and cracks
and unscrews the lids

of my wounds, licking them
slowly with love
away to thin scars

of lost unity
with what I thought
to be outside

Here I'm standing, before my throne
daughter of heaven and earth
safe and free in my breath

There is nothing that gives me pleasure than to know the strength of my youth is strong. It makes me tremble with goodness to see him blossom into a fine leader.
My wrinkled face smoothens as I see him, blossom in wisdom and empathy.
Gladden mine heart , oh chosen arrow, lighten my age thee great spear.