Something was always missing around
one had to die daily.
To find out, what?
Just a slip of time,
life was death and death was life.
Death of a man or death of a city
death had no other name.
Hearing the footfalls of death
dogs were howling around a temple
where god was dying.
The nation now mourns
for the banished priest.
At the burning pyre
there is still no peace.
Anger lives inside the books,
flame hides in the candles.
And a rage surges forward
in the bones of archaic humour.
He, making his own cast. You knew it.
Unique mystique of transparency.
You could not touch him.
Walking ahead of the sun,
long shadow, sweating it out,
Innocence hung from desiccated tongue,
he preserved original speech
before falling prey to polymorphism.
Certain amount of tears, some sadness
make life sweet for a while.
Phrases are not hurting now.
For the sake of lake, I climbed
on the weeping hills
to see the other side of moon.
The precipice of hunger weighs heavily
Capricious time moves inwardly,
Strikes at the chest.
I set free the love-birds.
Conflict of trees tramples the grass
All summer the smell of dry winds
was scorching tear drops.
Every word was crying.
Dark in my city
I am wandering alone in alleys
of hostile homes.
The collective guilt of the flesh
blazes the mind.
Looking beyond the window
I always wanted to shut my eyes.
No sky could hold my head.
I did’t want to see the innocent smiles
vanishing from the moulded faith.
The smell of burning leaves waftes through
the catacomb of dead thoughts.
The time does not spare any overflow of poetry.
Life extracts its price of tomorrow.
Nothing will change. People will laugh,
weep and mourn. A candle for those
who jumped from minaret of silence. A
bonquet for them who died on waves.
I will hide the kernel under the mud
by stealth. One day amongst the
spikes a pink spirit will rise. A double landmark
for death and dust.
It drips –
One dropp at a time
from the eyes of a grey stone.
Flows the anguish
in a cave.
A fallen grace from sky,
flickering like an earthen lamp.
Do not go
heart broken into crowd.
Tears were never sweet.
Simple light I assume, I needed
nothing more, nothing less:
as I felt tired under the battered shade of a
Sour sweet pulp, sticky and acidic
life had held me by throat;
and I sang like a blue bird
in a golden cage.
The voice in me was different
neither of a stricken lamb,
nor of a green childhood
but a roaring sea.
From the surface I was rising
in sun, before ship comes
with cargo of grief,
and sorrow and pain.
You know, I don’t think, I think.
Death is taking lease on my name.
in other world,
where my counterpart is fighting for virtue.
Blaze on the horizon was spreading.
No peak was left green,
time was running out.
Courier had left without a message
carrying cyanide capsules,
to kill or get killed.
My grey sky stuck with silent clouds
will wait for the stars.
The bride will leave under the shade of shine.
Serum was darkening
its milk of poison.
Blood was thinner than water.
The buried silence was turning
brown with pain.
Bruises had outraged the words.
I will watch the field,
but not play the game.
Do not want to win the toss,
for no one to loose the chance.
When you go for the final swim
rules must change.
The ugly knocks have resumed
their pilgrimage through blood and bones.
Timeless flesh will decide the event,
death of the soul.
The tryst with unknown begins
charting the resentment on hearts,
clinging like sorrow. Sun has sunk
deep in the blue lake.
Turnover my secret past
I have to dig up my future
In the hour of crumbling walls and dark
Pale moon becomes a beacon
in another version of solitude
where nobody speaks of sores and premature
I stay away from twinkling stars,
from the blossoms of traveling night
and winds which are moving towards the
Sullied words will go for a conspiracy
making a ghost of my garden
where seeds are sprouting.
Reticent were moon, sky and birds.
A pall of gloom spread on the trees.
Stoically I rode on the wings of pain,
to watch the descending values.
A timeless truth separates the charm from lies,
and I long for the generosity of past
which could connect us to future.
A flame burns the eyes.
When we took the wrong road?
Still the fever is rising.
Gods sneak into our affairs.
A firebird flies in the space with long span of shadow,
the helpless victim lies in wait, to be dispatched.