Brooding. It was a dark
secret. You wanted to catch perfection,
Trying to temper my wrongs.

Whole and complete, you
will never find out the morals and faults
Only you fear a prophet. I sort animals

Your life was always a
slaughterhouse. Nobody was saved.
I bleed daily to give the answer.

I think, not to think.
Scares in silent night. The candle
fails to burn. Do you ignite the muse?

Why the inquiry of pain
grows dim to discover the cause of threat.
The will to write needs a new language.

In the water a thought
dies. I remember T S Eliot. The waste
land devours the beauty of roses and butterflies.

Death enters through
a hunter. A black fish jumps
to make water *****.

The reason is that
the color of human hair is gold
and blood becomes a glacier.

Where will the moon
take bath in summer? Don't
declare that clouds are dried up.

You were poised to leave
your love, and deliberately ****
your dreams. Autopsy done. Time elapsed.

I am given a hemlock.
I will not give up a word to become a god.
The mystery of man will never be solved.

What is the pain of
living to become a robot? You
were the master not the servant of lies.

Take heart I say
to myself, leaning against
the wall to end sorrow.

Solar year, O red
and green pain, don't invite the
wounds. Don't cry moon, don't.

Standing in the pulpit
I invoked peace to stop the hands
of clock. Time was moving very fast.

When life stops, will
you learn what death is? A living
death solves idolatry one day.

Why do you run for
more? Am I wrong? When I want
to stop you, you were searching pearls

The exile gives a real
meaning to meet the god at the end
of land. A rebel faces the truth.

Can you heal my
insomnia? Raise the bar
and eat your words.

You have stopped
singing. Take me moon I
am getting very hot.

Why people are dying
without blood? Someone
was sending the message?

The light walks with
me, and shadow guides. The moon
comes and goes in the screams of inferno.

Let us talk about humankind.
It rubs wolves and snakes. Where is the
genuine evolution of man going?

Can I create safe
world by my poetry. The republic love
can take us to Buddha's tree.

Why do we fight without
words? Delimitation was to drag
the truth. Religion breaks into pieces.

It was not possible.to
meet the eternal existent, or can
be seen. I am. You are not.

My philosophy is to
underline the pain of life. The
power of the unknown has no meaning.

Life has become blue
O moon, why did I let you in
under my skin.

How come you want
to change the world ? First I
ask you to stay in my heart.

Now would you be
adorable? God! you have
been arrested by a man.

You came closest to me.
Brilliant stars came in between us.
Now one by one each star is burning.

A poet was a mystic
to find the difference between birth and dying.
And he left the body untold.

I am not getting
the peace by waterfall from the eyes
of an extraordinary winter of poems.

I want to forget
my gains of deliverance in―
reopening the economy of pain.

My logo was simple
to carry your own cross to prove―
that I can rise from dead.

The numbers hurt.
I cannot touch the awards for
throwing my dreams one by one.

I am forgetting. Sad
and broken. Life betrays. Rocks
the heart. In core the pain spikes.

The questions what,
where and why. Sorrow and emptiness.
All the things happened to hurt.

I seek mercy. God
has failed. I want to read the stones.
What was engraved in small letters?

I lost my soul.
You shouldn't have left like
a thread from a needle.

What could not be done,
was to take liberty with the alphabets of
life. Why pain comes without words?

Something turns my
past after anointing my young
poems of abdication.

Killing myself
creating a new man, breadth
by breadth without birth.

Ash smeared on your
forehead, you move towards setting
sun. Flames write your message.

On the chest of dead.
There will be no past, no future
in the dust of fallen warriors.

Hiding the thoughts
in mind space. Will not come
near the heart. I am often lonely.

Were you a volcano?
Will you cry now? Antiquity
plays a role. I won't see the lava.

This was hypocrisy
in the soundless night. We are listening
variant songs. Who was coming without foot falls.

Don't drink in the eye
of the storm. Go and sit on
the seat of judgment.

Stars are beginning
to walk in sunlight. Tulips want
to be born again without moons.

So sad that I cannot
recall your face and I give
up my name for you.

I start with one
word, to become an autistic. No
gifts to spoil you. You have come down.

Ignorance was the teacher.
No path comes from history..
No need to agree with the god.

Want to live in water.
Want to kiss one's own death.
Nightingale rejects the small tree.

Once you were a
walking tree. Drifting. No one
stops planting the seeds.

The pangs. Moons clap.
A renegade makes a temple to die.
Therewas no other space left.

I will not call you.
Your book has been soiled.
I cannot read my own writing.

Your heart breaks.
My Mind was hurt. Tracing the pain
to know the poem's survival.

Nature and rhymes.
I translate the sorrow to flowers,
making a conduit god.

But who was responsible
for infidelity, as you like it to turn the
identity into dharma of consciousness.

When life burns out,
you create a colossus that will
ultimately destroy you.

Pinnacle of success
brings loneliness. You would
search yourself for company.

Who will not sit for
your wake, when somebody
pulls you out from the pyre?

Don't give me anything.
Let my blood flow through the river of
eyes. A tree dies standing.

Who is ready to go?
The demons want you to put to
torture. Nemesis was different from revenge.

The philosophy of existence
is, how do you define love? You want to
alter the will of god?

Nature-she was
playing with us. Any saviour becomes
a man-eater in savannah.

On descent the body
explodes to become a silhouette
to attract the creator.

You were endangering
the earth O destroyer. Was it
devotion or crucifixion?

Embalmed, you were
very difficult. Life has ignored you.
So what was the big pain?

Theoretically, the dead
man walks. You will not become
Newton. The apples are still falling.

The Greeks want to
be born again. Life is a challenge. You
have to climb the Himalaya like Sysyphus.

Somewhere a pin
drops in pitch dark. The deity
appears incognito, rising from dust.

I was dying for
your truths after separation from
myself in a disturbing moment.

Grave danger was for
eternal lovers, like swans, would
fight sincerely to die.

Sitting in a wake
you don't feel peace. The vigil
has a buzzing sound.

No benefit comes.
Your fingers speak for the broken
faith. Where gods sleep?

The candles in the wind
were blowing up at the bank
of the river, which had dried up.

Like snowflakes, you
fall on me to understand love.
I sit on a toadstool to write a poem.

When I think of stars
you want to know me to sit on the
grass, to filter the truth of pain.

A torch misbehaves,
when the sun dips and the moon
refuses to rise. Milk was not milk.

Put on hold your pain,
outside our love Your tears fall on
my hands to become flowers.

I go to the milk tree to
pay back my debt. You rub my arm
gently. I shed my negatives.

Paradigm? Man says
ghosts live. A snake never leaves
her eggs. My poems remain intact.

To divide the absolute
I have broken my arms. No enlightened
thought grieves. I shut my eyes.

It was a majestic fall.
I am reading myself in dark to discover
my fire in the sands of time.

I will start a new life,
cutting one by one, all the masks to
see the stigmas of the moon, who smiles.

You suffer, nothing
comes to your mind. Like you are fondling
your wounds lying in a tomb.

I will not steal your
face after the disaster of losing faith
in the religion of power.

I will not stop kissing
the red flames of bargain. The tears
will decide, no mausoleum will be made.

Go to dharma. Between
sorrow and romance, tender poems
come in crowd. The pain uplifts the temple.

I forgave my past.
My seers lived on the stars to predict
the tremulous life to come. I stand firm.

Ups and downs, I
pray to myself to draw a lip line
to drop the luxurious gift of rich gods.

A ghost truth
levels down,
the traffic. You enter
into catatonic stage.

Rage and anguish
will ask,
for the price of blood
flown down the river.

Listening
with the eyes. Leaffall,
luteus, music of descent
on grass.

A dust storm
settles on sill. I will
look through the window, at
a setting sun, unadored.

Skin to skin,
blood to blood, can there be a
digital love? To whom I address?

The first pain starts
from birth. One can not live in
the crowd. What is life's philosophy?

You will not be paralyzed.
Let it be homecoming. The intensity
takes you to discover the tragedy.

A midnight break.
The burning door. Manslaughting
begins. Dehumanizing. Terra firma cries.

A new fall. Moon is
fading rains tears. An unborn
god dies. Somewhere you are caged.

Night terrors. A lilly shuts
the eyes. The blind iris starts searching
Buddha in the garden of the love.

Let my pain go, then
I will think of you during break.
I was teaching pure truths.

You disturb my sleep
to read the holy books again. Why we
were guilty of not taking arms?

Don't shoot at bull's eye.
It doesn't bleed and you always misfire.
Your fingers will play Beethoven.

Don't break the moon
like a femme fatale. The poems.
will not be able to breathe.

As a confessional, such
pain from the burning home? Can you
write on the walls? Laughter and death?

The ****** comes with
tears. The hero has left the
ashes. The beauty will search for an appendix.

Between poverty and
theology. I want to take on you
in moonlight, but is not controversial.

It was very beautiful,
the rain dance of symphony invoking
the godless punishment.

How can you carry a
crowd to complete a journey at the
bank of the river of blood?

In abstract, I see
you. It was knowledge, moving on
sledge. The desire wants to come.

No future can be
conceived. The words are floating
but no meaning can become invader.

Can you show me
ethnic love and wash all the
tricks to change the gods?

I would take a call
after I seceded from my wounds.
It took me a while to become Buddha.

You outshine, being
a wave breaker. I touch the
stars to squeeze light from dark curves.

Will you remain
vegetable? Your fingers play
like the blind pianist on my face.

Your mercy was very
little O god for equal-halves.
Nobody was perfect.

Alive and kicking
yet harmless, the moons were
alone in togetherness.

You always lied. How
deep was your pain, when the sun
was rising without light?

Are you ok? When
the moon rises on sea, I become
worried about the blue butterflies.

The Morning Glory always
inspires me, in her swaying to
welcome the beautiful dawn.

And when your sleep
goes, you start reciting shlokas
with smoke and sparks.

Words were white, but
in the end days replies were black.
The retreat translates to old age.

You ask the death to
stay at bay. When you were born, there
was a loud sound. Dying will be voiceless.

What is the philosophy
of giving away one by one your bones
and flesh. Only soul will slip away unknown.

In void of departure, you get
a rose a day. Your eyes were very red.
Was there any violence in your path?

What should be done,
when the moon becomes very small like
the man, who will rise from ground zero.

Your queen of night
spills a scent of unknown smell.
I become a bohemian of suffering.

No death stop for colored
marbles. I am not dying to bring
the childhood for once.

Pretending comes to the
fore. Midriff of the moon was taboo.
This was a slaughter-a-day.

Are you a Mimosa pudica?
Not to be touched in sunlight.
It starts moving vigorously.

Slowly the pain of
heart sinks in dark. You write on the
coal-light. Without rhyme love is lost.

Your noises eject some
questions. There were no answers,
when you stand in water to find mercy.

The lesser success-meets
the love, honey, sequence and incognito.
Don't Come when the owl calls.

Ah, my soiled words
may hurt you. I placed them on
the altar of faith.

A psalm delivered by
a crimson red rose. I will write
another sacred poem.

The torches are dead
and I cannot read the script of
unwritten dharma of god.

Two kisses for a golden
lie. Don't manipulate the shelter.
The Moon will take rest in my poems.

Song of sparrow has
died. I am bewildered. From where
I start writing glory of sunrise?

My every nerve trembles
when I gather the dried jasmines,
you dropped saying goodbye.

There was something
wrong. Yet I had not come
to my home. Trust was eroding.

Moon comes under fire.
Maskless he was stealing beauty
of earth, in freezing dark.

I had no ambition left.
Even touching the truth of
three layered lies of love.

There was something
wrong. As yet I had not come
to my home. Trust was eroding.

Moon comes under fire.
Maskless he was stealing the beauty
of earth in freezing darkness.

I had no ambition left.
Even touching the truth of
three layered lies of love.

An evil inside,
in your lives. Never done
personal language. Don't fight with god.

Why did you rip-off
the promise and push the statue
in the river of innocent pain?

Not a thing. It was
immeasurable faith of man for a
man through the image. The muse suffers.