She touched a tender spot in his heart,
and said she found a clot, the size
of a pin ***** of love, which said"Sorry,
this is old, healed well, forgot fully
what this scar said, once upon a time"

With a smile in which his soul reflected
he  said, "I live in the present, with you
forget the scars that would erase itself
and take one from a sad spots to a
place in consciousness, that will tell
how love heals and makes one whole.

To be in a love of that kind is all
what life can teach one.
Make oneself a receptive vessel
when heart is in fire, becoming sublime
await the shower, the moon splash, divine
fill the vessel to the brim, and rejoice
let it  liberate one from
all transient bonds restraining"

A spittoon!
onlookers
look confused;
it speaks
a dead language.

The vivacious little girl
occupying the table next, with her parents
counts me too, someone close to her
I don't know, what prompts this,
or why she wants to cheer me up.

Smiles at me like I am an uncle
lost for long and now found by chance,
offers a bite from her candy
with a conspiratorial wink.

Its a pity I lost touch
with that part of my psyche
that used to act like a kid
and rejoice, without a thought'
when something like this happens.

Yes, things change
you may not even sense it,
I suddenly realize.

I just look away and see
a bleak cloud fully lost all morning flush
at the corner of the sky limping forward,
dissolving little by little.

He travels great distance against all odds,
reaches the border, but turns back helpless
she just stands there, impatiently smiling
with extended hands, but making no move
to cross the emotional wall, they built themselves.

Wanton moonlight,
filtered through a fine white net
of cirrocumulous clouds,
so delighted by their caresses
splashing noiselessly
in to the blue pool,
wears an alluring tiara,
a crust created by fine foam,
does a squiggly dance
in the heart shaped pond,
where waves make beams
swing around non stop.
The silver white lilies,
one by one touched by this magic,
comes alive, open their eyes
drink from the fountain of
moonlight and join the dance.

The love pair, in their nocturnal
love games are lubricious to the core
having lost their hearts to both
the ethereal beauty and the arrows of cupid

1.Language

Dissolved in a kiss
their eyes created
a new language.

2.Symbol

there was an eloquent
black mole
under her lower lip

3.Silence

The unruly crowd
fell silent
in her profound presence

4.Delusion

Her lover, an anthropologist,
suspected her as a new species!

5.Take bath now, not for cleanliness

Her bathing him wasn't
about cleanliness;
amorous explorations aren't.

A resounding knock at the door,
a pair, with one killer smile stood
but how could she return it?
they barge in without waiting to be invited
the girl takes back her half of the smile at once,
and becomes the spokesperson
of the man with an intention,
from her strange countenance
one could discern in advance
the shock value of her request.

"As you know we live in great times
that value uncommon attainments more than ever,
we collect and auction them for the rich"

She didn't understand where they want to take her,
never heard the stream of tears would be the best sell
in an auction, though at times she was struck
by the sparkle that rivals the rarest of the real pearls

She stood perplexed in her hurt and pain, ancient
"Can't say how much we are fascinated
by your collection of grief, market is now wide
to accommodate, the variety of stuff in offer
your pain is so intense, it would certainly
create a stir in the heart of most hardened billionaire
we appreciate your persistence as a collector so rare"

She heard in deafening silence, the acidic voice trail off
is she saved or is it a bad dream yet again?

1.Her sudden wink
links me

2.White foamy
moon light
overflows

3.Hard bud
blooms;
soft petals.

4.Spider
sky diver,
lands softly.

5.Dark slithering road,
perilous ride.

Quintessential charmer, libidinous crow pheasant, has an eye on him,
thinly disguised mating calls disclose her keenness of intention,
protruding derriere, provocative walk, her amour leaves
nothing to guess, 'what you fancy is my desire' her acts yell out to him.

1.Dear cat
eat my rat.

2.Lazy dog,
kiss my cat.

3.***** cat
killed my parrot!

4.Nightingale,
sing in my cage.

5.Pets come,
dance for me.

6.Honey bee,
remove that sting.

7.Weeping willow,
go to hell.

8.Sky lark
just shut up.

9.Flowing stream
aren't you tired?

10.It's frightening;
break that silence.

Educated cat,
debonair toe to tip,
mustache and whiskers
trimmed to suit
the current style,
demands in a fine
cultivated
clipped accent,
to the chief
of the rat hole
to surrender
peacefully, his army
cache of weapons
secret Swiss bank
account details,
gold and diamonds
stashed away in
vaults underground,
and the database on
high net worth
individuals
within 24 hours,

without much ado
to avoid bloodshed.

Mackerel, they want to  be
both unanimously agreed;
but why is she stuck still
under the hide of a whale?

The young woman, plain, was unsmiling behind the control panel,
a ribald passion filled his veins, her mien has to do something,
the airfield was deluged by waves of grief, among them
was those robust women, he tried to forget but couldn't
who may defeat the purpose, if he takes a second look.

She gave her word to fly the single engine airplane
"Don't fear darling, i am an aerobatics specialist
if need arises i wouldn't hesitate to crash land,
take care of your hurt, bleeding lonely heart".
How reassuring! never would he turn back,
after this difficult take off awaited life long.
No more entries in this log book.

Her dark make up, was feline an added attraction
that gave him a libidinous surge, an ******* with ample promises,
to last till he reaches his destination final, from where
the return flight, is even unthinkable the lady pilot winks.

This Cessna to the unknown, has the aphrodisiacal scent of
wild orchid flowers he once discovered in the far stretches
of the Western Ghat mountain ranges
and ******* secretions of one particular lover
a reminder perhaps death wants to carry as it happens

Turbulence and tranquility,
the waves taught me both,
from seagulls came
silent flights, smooth landing
on moving waves
and cacophonous rage,
dervish dance was the gift
coconut groves granted
during the months of monsoon,
the art of hiding sweetness
within hard shell, too was their lesson,
"Don't exhibit,
let them find out coconut water
if only they deserve" the tall palms
implied while they danced like
feverish, passionate lovers,
hair splayed, rocked by crazy winds.

Your eyes spoke about a kind of
beautiful transience and unaffected calm,
at the end of the quest for the ultimate.

From many we flow towards one,
tranquil, eternal, omniscient.
I pick and choose from various notes
to create a symphony of accord
knowing in my heart that it's what we all share.

Night took me to the heart of deep sleep
and said the specs of light will not perish
"Cherish it to make  days of sun and dance
then come back to the ample ***** of darkness"

Youthful spirit told me about the alchemy of love
between hearts and heart breaks too, that teaches one
that sadness has it's sweetness.

Walls proclaimed all about limits,
also patience and courage to break it,
if one removes stone after stone bearing pain
every wall will eventually fall.

A melancholy ***** we came to adore
in mournful tone, finish the tale abruptly
and sob, uncontrollably;
"Memories of my melancholy ******"
including "Love in the times of cholera"
are now part of our folklore, this land
of cashew groves and banana plantations
in  Indian landscape, far far away from Latin American shores.

Her lascivious days are over
death visits the house of love, blood splattered
and a haunt of dark happenings, that begets children with tails,
shame, honor and secrets creep out of manuscripts.
Gabo is no more, no more"Living to tell the tale"
the Part Two, promised before.

Gabriel Garcia Marquez, after three false starts
goes to his final abode for rest, now.

A coded manuscript, written in
in classical Sanskrit,
(the language of all divine texts
of Indian sages of yore)
scripted by the mysterious gypsy,Melquiades
predicts the wipe out of Buendia clan
of five generations

Torrential rain and deluge engulf Macondo,
ends "One hundred years of solitude".
Gabo you point towards east
what is the answer to the conundrum of Buendias?

In Mexico city
they were preparing to take  Gabo to his last ride
to the origin of all magical realism he'd return

In a land far away,
yet exactly the same landscape as Latin Americas
we grieve his death as that of one of our own
Gabo, in past thirty years, you mysteriously taught us
to discern the magical realism of cosmos

1.Forgone
learned languages:
silence speaks!
#
2.Forgot logistics;
transcendence
rings bell.
#
3.Transgressed limits
accidentally;
how fortunate!
#
4.Dense darkness
highlights
the starlight
#
5.Expected silver
got gold;
dissatisfied!

Butterfly finds
immortality
a nuisance

Distant star
cries out light

Wizard of words
drinks silence

Confidence is
the God of silence

Sun never craves
for encore

He undressed
her seductive
     mind.

Was lovingly stolen, branded as a belonging,
pried open for the jewel, love hidden inside,
made to dance to a haunting tune whistled
that melted the inner being, All done by you
I just connived with my captor though.But now,
woken from the dream, I find there aren't two,

Love made us complete, with all its hues

Every flower in this garden is laden with star dust
if the eyes that see can travel a bit far in time,
each cell,  remember, is a fractal, a microcosm,
death and immortality, in it encapsulated
Shiva's dance of ecstasy seems to bring
disintegration, beginning of a new cycle of creation,
each moment is in a flux, you and me  and all others
are the ingredients of steaming cosmic soup.
                            
You are my impermanence most kindly defined
complement written in the poetic cadence of feminine,
exact to the appropriate meter, rhyming pattern, perfect
dance of alliteration and at times beauty of truculence,
I am a blank verse, keeping infinity contained
in the only way possible, captured in its grand simplicity
pearls of zen gleaming all over, the intuitive sense
of internal rhythm reigns, touching the primordial boom
music to the soul in frequencies higher, unknowable
reverberating through the cosmic star dust refulgence.

1.A life never tranquil
---------------------------------
On the wave,
catamarans dance.


2.Facets
----------
Beauty is the beast

3.Koan
------
Story ends before the beginning.

Across the river in the woods
she met the white tiger;
she wished to surrender
the opposite was his desire.

You are the one and only fluorescent thought,
still alive at the night of my lost soul,
the life giving breath I borrowed through
your mouth, when I chocked and went down,
while swimming in the turbulent rapids of life.

Red glowing ember you are, that warms,
my soul in the winter of  unimaginable freeze
my daily dose of sun's purple beams
at the moments of dawn after a long night,

your moist, warm, soft feminine flesh,
raise and fall in such precision, with every beat,
and when I hold my breath, I hear,
both of our names spoken in the lingo of goose bumps,

You are the joy of discovery after
wandering through an arid desert
an oasis full of, green orchards,
you are the peaches and the apple
I want to steal, just to keep with me,
smelling and petting,
                                    never even would
think of peeling, relishing the taste,
I 'd never ever attempt,
to bite it little by little,  and consuming

Red rose
reflecting the color of love
in our cursed world,
since the day
you lost your gloss,
and looking so pale,
lost and forlorn
the moon has lost her sheen,
that held us close,
Waves of the sea lost their tune
and had fallen mute,
the sea breeze
completely evades
my path, as if I had
unfairly jilted her friend.
The beams of sun lost
their warmth,
the mingled fragrance
I inhale from my garden
where  variety of flowers bloom,
is now absent,
My pale, maudlin rose
disconcerted I am
beyond words,
what has the world done
to you for you to loose your hue,
shall I fall in love with you
all over again,
make your heart dance with love,
at the move of my wand?
Set the wrong of the world
right once again, with my tears
shall we be whole,once again
like before?

There is grief in every page staring at him,
now it's the eyes of a destitute, a child
starving for a whole week, totally dazed,
as her family runs for their life through
dark alley ways, to escape the guns firing non-stop
fighting somebody's nonsensical war.

There is grief written in dark letters in every single page.
his eyes stumble and bite dust, refuse to move ahead.

In protest he closed the book abruptly,
sat bitterly brooding for a while,
then an urge made him delve deep
in to his muddled red lake, troubled psyche,
after a swim he hears a voice clearly say:
"How could you avoid pain, marking it separate,
and embrace all the rest that are  your favorites,
when you are the wound and the knife in karmic cycle?

Shedding tears, in no way should make you less,
isn't it the moment one becomes more humane
it sows the seeds of empathy, more than any time,

There is no doorway not darkened by the cloak of death
and not trodden by the firm foot of grief,
as the Buddha once said to a woman,
who wanted her beloved resurrected"

As he reads on, it becomes a race away from pain,
which reigns, all realms of human life;
he gets agitated, calls the author a deviant,
hankering after miseries, one would rather not set ones eyes ever.

"This dear reader, is the life we live in this planet,
a dance of black and white from start to finis,
none here has the right to dictate terms
in worlds real, imaginary and that of dreams,
accept grief as a lead player in this stage, on whom
the progression and movement of the story is pegged"
The author is beyond the pale of emotions, in total balance,
just a compassionate gazer he is, in to the crystal ball.

Yes, there is grief in every page, his painful heart couldn't delete,
even with a stubborn will, it remains, a dark pool of ink growing big,
it makes one sad and happy in turns, transforms  wiser at the end.
Grief in every page, it's the truth deeply imprinted about the  book of life
needs to learn to brace oneself every single step, that's how the story moves, as each act progresses, grief, poignant and cleansing, changes  hearts,
with its saltiness, makes the bread of life tasty throughout.

A poem beyond words
tenderly tugs my heart;
how to partake, she wonders,
"**** its nectar from my lips, lover"

1
*In the masquerade of a poet
he acquires secret wings,
becomes equal parts real and unreal,
treading the twilight zone.
He still is an apprentice
with the conjurer,
incomparable wizard
who never stops amazing
being the anarch of slight of hand,
the illusionist grand,
we in the flow who swim or drown
in the river, known  as life
that none ever defined the way it really is.
2
Inside his cubicle
transformed to a scribe by a curse
when he coveted it, was a boon
he is real, all  his magical powers robbed
by the day light, realities of life
he is grappling with news
that make  his heart grow weak.
He is now a sobbing poet within,
firmly  handcuffed to a pact strict,
only to write reports, that's his might
anything of beauty he couldn't  escape,
its all pain in forms unimaginable
most of it man made, even famine.

A life swinging between a hope
to come in terms with
the uncertainties of the ebb and flow
that breaks his heart bit by bit,
and facing realities stark that drives a knife
has become the rut, he wouldn't escape.

Dawn peeps through the window blind
he has lost meaning for day and night  long time back
when this double life, has trapped him in this pen

You are the deep blue sea,
my red shimmering sun
   little
          by
               little
                       sinks deeper
                       a gasp,
                       a  silver shiver, exquisite

inside the dense waters
sun moves in sensuous pace
arousing hellacious passions, sea hides
makes her yell out
in thousand  voices of seagulls

Intense spasmodic waves
rise and fall transmitting euphoric notes
that dissolve in the gentle golden light
of a lone curious star, watching
without batting an eyelid.

None would imagine,
a benign imp,
blithe, light footed
triggers a surge
of aesthetic spasms
******* of the brain,
moves incognito
on this high podium
beside your chair
when you
read your poem
just like when you're
in a creative reverie

Every time it's a mystery
how she sets music
within every word
how then a rhythm
in progression
is unleashed
flowing in to your
poetic musings
to create an image concrete,
correlating to the wave
beating in your brain

Heart, soul and spirit
merge in to one
poetic words to mark
what your being gathered
from spring flower fields
and scorched earth alike

all the poet  gathered
at the receiving end
of the slings and arrows
of outrageous fortune,
is set in tune,
all of you gathered here
for the poetry session
walking through the labyrinths
inebriated by poetic wine,
munch yourself bit by bit
in the cadence of poetic beats,
as past, present and dreams
in many small instalments
pour in from the beginning.

What the poet offers
takes, each one listener
to a world different,
one begets many
images proliferate.
They will relish all this
and be born again
within themselves
later on, leisurely with light
peeping out of their eyes,
an alchemy none can explain

You are rare, an iridescent coral reef
of uncommon beauty , emerging
out of ocean blue, with an appetite for sun;
he has fallen for you at the first sight.
I am the setting sun, with stunning
rays of praise that keep you thrilled,
for the while I last, and would make you
                                           crave for more,
Darling, listen
story of our love is immortal for this reason:
it would be a burning, searing pain,
not destined to be lost in fulfillment,
it would make the stars, brimming
with emotions, sob, sob till it all dissolve,
shedding light, like drops of   hot wax,
till the candle lasts and the wick fights
                                              the dying of the light.

He captured their love
in essence, in an intense
moment of joy
within an oyster, in depth
for keeps;
secretly hoped
he would adorn her neck
with it when it ripens
in to a pearl, so brilliant
transmitting the rays of love.
A monument of their
devotion to love.
Days
like flocks of white herons
flew to far poles,
ravens of dark nights went
to far horizons and came back
without fail.
Sea change makes Tsunami
strikes in human lives,
she never found her way back
to their love spot
to bill and coo and dream
as before and drink moonbeams
together for nourishing love
as she promised him before.
The oyster he kept safe
in a secret corner of his sad world;
whenever he touched it
it was a moment of pleasure.
Then it became
an irresistible urge to open it
and caress the pearl,
the reminder of his love nonpareil,
though failed to spread wings.
Eager were his eyes,
for the only consolation left;
but he feels cheated once more
on seeing a drop of tear
the size of a big round pearl
tasting salt of a love gone bitter,
dark and brooding, like her heart,
inside the crumbling oyster of his soul.

Sun sets with regret.
Darkness of night
fails to appear.

Her serene face, lovely sleepy moon,
framed by long tresses of dark curly clouds
on which he traces pelagic  memories
remains focused on his, for a while,
then,
her eyes, lovely restless beetles, sweetly
buzz around his eager lips, swollen with desire.

Closer she comes, he loves that coquettish look
on her face, how cheeky, the moves she make
as if she is game for the tryst, right now
whatever it takes from her part. it's clear.
How love makes a simple maiden, daring!

Dark beetles bring him memories of pollen,
mingled scents that cover her body head to toe,
now her lips are on his, exploring gently its contours
when teeth and swirling tongue too join in,
the cravings of unbridled horses of amour
they both come to be aware, when eyes involuntarily close.

When the red eyed embers of love turn to flames,
love boils in their cauldron, they rediscover passion,
as if they are green horns, once again in the enchanted woods
in this land of cupid, where the love rules are hurriedly rewritten.

A ray of dark light,
from a distant invisible star
spotted him sitting
in the circle of
soft, silver light,
"May I too sit with you
so soothing seems
your presence
its gravitational pull
will **** me,
if i am not allowed
to be in that delight
of light"
All he did was just smile
being equanimous,
"The choice is yours
the karmic design
prompts everything
and the consequences
of your action would
come back to you
like your pet canine"
without a word he
told this to starlight,
went back to his reverie
on being and nothingness
"What's the nature of light
in the heart of darkness?"
was his present "koan"

and then,
a disembodied voice,
called out to him
like from a well of panic,
"Effulgent being"
it lamented, "I lost myself,
seeing your kind aura
I forgot my real self
I am  a light, but, dark
now I am lost without a trace,
I don't find myself, help"

"Enlightened being"
said the one with focused mind,
I am not a messiah, just a
seeker like yourself
You had a quest,
that transformed you
made sublime,
you are there by rights,
have become one
with the silver light eternal,
even at the heart of darkness
you cherished a drop of light
love it was distilled from pain.
Look inside and see,
you are that, not darkness,
I am still on my way
be tranquil, I am blessed
touched by your heart."

Come in, stoop a bit
the door is too low,
as the tradition demands;
close your umbrella
put it in a corner
this is a space
you'd find in no map.
Did you keep your companion
for all occasion, logic, outside?
when you go a long distance
and your psyche is the road
that presence is a speed breaker,
we don't even need any clock,
there is no time in this realm
past and future are in the present.
Forget the world we would,  at once
dark shadows dance holding hands
of light, all in a trance, create music
and then within, one realizes this
we are all notes of an orchestra
playing all along

Meeting up with the dragon
was a page
out of an intergalactic adventure;
shaking hands with
doppelganger, it was.
He insisted that he is
still a mythical animal
just don't exist in real,
he was so apologetic
to the point of being mawkish,
"Don't want to mislead any one
to somewhere, let's be scientific
to think, you took such pains
to make this meeting happen,
which is not the case in real,
                                    do you see me well?
He was  in panic, it seemed,
took him in confidence and
made him stay put.
"What's real is a long debate
don't think I am real,
material world could
easily proved an illusion
matter in to energy and reverse
is the story we see here
quantum mechanics will
end all your qualms
everything is in a state of flux
even the scientists are,
sometimes they see black holes
and suddenly they think otherwise,
so the universe is not even
a handful of dust, it's energy
playing fancy dress..."
The dragon looked crust fallen,
"you should have met a dinosaur instead
at least they EXISTED,and  Phew, what a variety
much more than a myth, which I am"
"Don't be apologetic, grand father's gift
grandma must have used her fun of imagination
to beget you and raise to such level of popularity
dragon or meerkat, all are fun,  like human,
when none exists, but happily present
in mind and on these  vast spaces our eyes see,
waiting to transform in to quanta of energy
when time summons, and God play dice.

Water color painting of her mindscape
visualized by an artist of repute
and its map, though not drawn on a scale
yet shows the topography and neighborhood,
gives a concrete idea to plan the conquest.

A route map to her heart, meticulously prepared
marking all shortcuts and blockages of passages,
that may lead to confusion and mix up
is an essential tool now at hand

A modern day marauder is just that
he has no time for sentiments of a pusillanimous lover
sentiments are bothersome,  portend troubles in store
if logistics are right, plan is great, any peak will stoop,

But yes, the moon they say plays havoc,
love poems that knead the hearts, songs and music
too, if comes between, the project may go bonkers
the problem here is the reign of unpredictability
when love starts its gallop and emotions the other horses
just follow without rules  whatsoever,
isn't it unwise trying to stop a dam breach?
Not even the dam breach software be of any help here,
no study is yet available on dissipating such passion,
dynamics of love is an unknown country altogether
no intelligence available is effective to move
against it and make the conquest certainly possible.

Forgetting the desert's treacherous paths
standing alone, he insanely marvels
nature's architectural craft;
a cactus tower unique, spiraling many ways.

Standing before the masterpiece
she lamented it's incompleteness,
nothing ever gets completed in universe
thank homeostasis for the illusion

Intense eyes, a majestic eagle,
                 circling high, is the air she carries,
a samba dancer luscious, who strikes
                    blow after blow with her belly button,
central stage always is hers
                   a bird of pray elegant on the look out,
the heightened awareness from
                   a sense of clear danger present,
is the reward she assures,
                 to him every minute for being her escort.



Rub her right, rub her wrong,
                      find what it would bring was his itch
the eagle woman conceals nothing,
                     keeps her eyes keen, wide open,
her mind a radar, focused on
                    what is to happen the moment next,
from mid air like a missile she swoops down,
                    stand still for a moment and then strikes,
she is on her prey, but he has
                      slipped away, at the precise moment.




Both are in awe of each other, but smiles,
       on the dance floor they are glued to each other,
he now plans a daring plot,
                 named "The sword of Damocles"
she is of two minds, love this game,
                    finds him fitting the bill,
yet the bird of prey awaits time for the next raid
                        "He is made of dainty stuff".

Mist told me in her vaporous touch
"Let me dress you in my fine muslin clothes,
though you may find it a cold comfort
my love will endure till sun drives me away"

And sun, strode in donning his warm golden gown,
splashing his sunny voice, he announces,
"Purple, red, golden yellow, as time moves,
choices you have, folks, till i go back with my stock,
mine are silk, the purest for you to luxuriate
unlike with others, my love for planet earth,
is something never fully told, whoever does it "

Ah, then comes the lady clad in sensual black,
with her one powerful color that makes,
none stand out in the line, all are equal in her bed,
dress she gives you have to accept,no choice there,
somnambulist deem it a privilege  wearing it,
those ones that vanish, seek out her winged dress.

Matador, **** the beast
that run amok inside your psyche;
the urge to throw in the towel
then becomes natural.

Your kiss
stirred
my dull
         roots,
brought a
   a sheen
all over my
  being;
see it clearly
in my eyes
that borrowed
two stars
from some
  love struck 
               galaxy
I'll be known
                widely
as your
"haloed lover"
hereafter.
*
      *
           *
your saliva
tasted like
fine wine,
fermented
moonbeams
added with
rainbow
just enough for fizz
'patented
just for one'
I heard the whisper
of your eyes.
I'll tightly wrap
my arms around you
to keep
the formula a secret,
strictly between us.

I am still
in intoxication
after all these
cycles of lives

A fluffy winged adventurer seed
sanctified by the halo
gifted by morning sun's kind rays
slowly descends on its parachute.

Thoughts, a whirl, merge
in the delight of motions;
a meaning beyond words surge
in the frenzy of converging moments.

1
*He packed his bags to leave the town, along with his love,
but not all that soon as they had promises to keep
but when she said in hushed whisper,
being a bird of passage, she would leave soon,
he didn't in his wildest dreams thought,
she would leave him behind.
2
He can't do without her a minute,
she too would feel the same, he had no doubt,
she heard what he said and enchantingly smiled,
she didn't say yes or no, he was bit puzzled
pale she was, like a withering flower, for that, he loved her more
she looked so vulnerable, he wanted to protect her for ever.
3
This inn does't belong to them, they are helpless,
have to concede to the laws, imposed on them
finding true love is like winning a game of dice
there isn't any rule to make sure one will win, so he makes sure
to follow the itinerant maiden, wherever she desires to settle.
She took leave of everyone near and dear; a ritual heart breaking
how lucky he was , the only one to be with her, every single time
she controlled herself , a brave heart she is,
none, even her kin offered to go with her except him
she didn't have any baggage, he took many with him,
she just smiled and gently reminded him, this:
"Travel light always, you wouldn't have to jettison anything"
He saw a cryptic smile play on her lips again.
4
"Look! how simple my love is" he beamed within him
they were at the ferry, he didn't see any one there other than them,
he , his love and her dog; then ferry boat came
"Space only for you and your dog" a voice without a face said
They got in, the dog first, she pretended she didn't see him there.
in that moment he knew where he stood in this deal;
this world is an illusion where love makes us all fools
5
Each one has to stand alone, watching  the karma wheel's turn
no one is shade for the other, karma decides
she was another, though they were one,
what an illusion this is, if caught in its web, it slowly kills
Did she mumble something, before the boat chugged off?
"We'll meet there, where time and space is a myth"

With a start he wakes up, hearing muffled cries from around.

He found a boundless sea inside  a diamond,
she keeps close to her soul, love pulsates in that ruby precious.
She wears an all -knowing smile, so ravishing,
when he gazes in to it, through her clear blue eyes.

He has seen memories that  quietly rest in her hive,
come searching for him, honeybees seeking the drops,
sweetness of the past inebriating at any time later.


We are wishes perennial of the people of yore,
who never ceased to love us
even after leaving the earth, for realms higher
echoes we are, from labyrinths of time
relayed from the timeless realm,
that appears after counting every universe existing there.

1
Pitch dark night.
He stood atop
the tallest bell tower
in the city of his heart,
insanely pleading
to the starlit sky
to come down
and kiss his brow,
shocking him to the core,
he saw two evil eyes staring
above the shadow
of two dark vulture wings,
just in a flash
abruptly he left
trying to erase the moment
from memory altogether.
For the first time
in his short unhappy life
he learned one has to be patient
till the wings grow
by self acquired magic.
2
Moonlit night
foamy waves of soft light
splash on the shores of tender hearts,
standing alone on the village green
he waited for the angel,
he dreamed to descend
firmly believing she would be there
the moon suddenly grew bright,
the breeze brought
the scent of incenses
he heard bells sonorously ring,
was it real or an enchanting dream?
rustling of soft wings told him
about her presence
for a divine moment he thought
he saw her gentle eyes
flashing quickly at him;
a moment of grace
like a huge dew drop
enveloped him for ever.

Copy right

Inside, the cave claimed them as hers,
a silence strangely suspicious of itself
holding back the urge to explode, whispered:
"Love at your age is dangerous, handle with care,
see its blade gleaming with desires
make sure, you don't hurt each other"

A wing moved, a swishing sound heard
they held breath for a moment,
felt the nostrils fill the strong stench
of droppings of colonies of bats.
But the love pair going higher on the rungs
found it nothing, but an olfactory diversion pleasant
a trigger to get closer, snuggle, deeply inhale
each other's many secret scents, little known before.

Outside the cave light prowled
like a jealous lover jilted by the beloved,
resenting darkness that dances with silence
inflaming  the atmosphere, dense in desire,
--a love intoxicant discovered by him and his girl,

Standing on tip toe, she rubbed her lips to his
match stick and matchbox spoke in tones of hiss
fire emits in maiden's first kiss, he remembered
what was said, on his way to a narcotic stupor
he forgot all the rest, the bats, liquid darkness
the trouble they had sneaking out of houses,
duping the thousand eyes of an Indian village,
in  vigil to keep a ******'s maidenhead intact.