HOW SOUND IT IS TO THINK STRAIGHT

How sound it is to think straight
when the whole world weaves
a cotton yarn on spin wheels
and leave it to fly away from
time zones
Oh love i wish
i would not have known even
that term for good
that it is better to bury that in a coffin
alive than to run behind
the ruins of your honour

HOW CAN I GO IN SILENCE

How can i go in silence
when my speech climbs again on that
peak to break that last tiny fragment
and see how I have transformed
in this monsoon
I know there arrive a time
for everyone to break silence
and how can i hide
when my rains knock at my door..

WHEN IT RAINED

I wonder how good it is to give
a distinctive definition on dreams
when we tie our hearts
to one pacemaker or angiogram
My definitions were strange
like the reflection
of my own conscience
where shadows contradicted
and that is the time clouds formed
a cluster to break my dreams into
many million tiny fragments
and those fragments came back
to me when it rained
in monsoon
like a feather soft dream

HEART SHAPED


Yes;
we will give and take
what??
heart shaped hell or heaven?
where your chariot of love moved
ahead of my dreams in rapids
Excuse me;
I have come along with you once
in your love chariot to know about your heart
shaped hell and heaven
and i have come back
to this earth;
perhaps alone
as i was an element
an element of Earth

YOU SAID ONCE


It is true that i have lost track of inland letters
and in publishing houses I have not walked
In asking for a soliloquy to complete
my final scene in life
And I go insane for sure
If some one offers me a jewel box
and a piece of oxidized advice

IMAGES

That is not too long ago
but in last summer
he has come and told me
that I scored  not a qualifying mark
in his third fragment as someone
has already occupied that third alcove
what an honorable decree on ice sheets
of ages and that is the day I profess
I have decided this fiend to give a state of my mind
against the layers of love or wildness
in multimillion colors he painted on my otherwise
calm sky
and honor is an ink mark he got that
I grieve not for that
but I grieve certainly, miserably
for my own pure judgmental
errors....

DREAM

God has placed a dream on my fingers
and told  me that is earth
and warned me of the countless
faceless and their many thousand
shadows...
I listened not him first
and on the day those shadows
descended from the pillars
of  centre sanctum I found him
And the same dream
was there on  my fingers
more like a monsoon rain drop
more like earth....

HOW CAN A PAST GO

They climbed on the podium
of my past and tied it on present
and now they want my ocean
to forget its shore that they can rise
forever beyond the ink marked horizon
Yes it is difficult to hold back a past
when the waves ascend from a bay
to my promontory and remind me of a river
that lost its origin in Western Ghats
I wonder
how can a past go like the soft feathers
of a monsoon cloud..

YOU SAID THIS TO ME SEVERAL TIMES

You said this to me several times
And like the bells in one Monastery
I hear the echo all in my life
In brass coats of stone age
I write with an enlightenment
that silence speaks more than words
like that of the bronze bells
of one pre-historic era

HEARTBEATS

I have lost a heartbeat
not my heart
where a river lost its origin
and many million drapes..
Enough!
someone said
but I cannot hide
my words from the thunder
of my heartbeats..

HEARTBEATS


I have turned more real than
your artificial self and if I open my heart
I see my real form not my reflection
and it is true
in one invisible pirouette
I have floated a fragment
of my very real self
with no knowledge
of my inner conscience
and let me tell you that
my tears are now
for my ignorant second self
and not for to please
your artificial form....

HEARTBEATS

Souls are dead and if you want
to see them in cloud forms
they arrive for no doubt
in different square cartons
where soles are sold on creative
leather fragments for us to think about
love of ages in non violent spin wheels
Along the seasons even I have climbed
cloud hills to reach the only and one
point where cosmos fought on destiny lines
and flowers turned wild like that of my heartbeats
and in one sea shore I found my alien self all alone
as it has lost its way from the main stream land
much before one evening sunset
and from the sunset point to that cloudy hill top
I have seen many million shadows
sliding downwards where the last
breath of my soul disappeared.....

IMAGES

 He has drained the last droplet of love in me
and on the farewell chart he portrayed
his giant antediluvian image
on which  he enlightened
me of a term called  love in primordial formats
to store it in my brain for its cells to perish
In sarcophagus he buried his soul
and remained soulless for the rest of his life

NATURAL

He said he helped
but my Gods said he lied
When my heartbeats said he messed up
time claimed they fooled
Islands sledge-hammered earth
And hills silenced their tunes
Where oceans roared
And that sounded natural …

HEARTBEATS

Yes it is true that i remember a canto 
on which a soul cried aloud 
ahead of the plain rich cataract blurred minds
and their polished poise on solid display platforms
where in my seashores
someone has come and told me that my position
in that blurred clusters not supreme
and I wouldn't  mind if I stand even last
in that congregation...