from the moment of the first breath,
stringing events, mind creates time,
tangled with space, it spins a new thread,
history of a being, moves forward,
down the line, events come to an end,
the mind dissolves, body feeds the elements,
the indestructible core, white dove,
transcends to the branch of the tree of light,
*the thread dissolves, in a wistful note,
the symphony continues in higher octaves.

we have never been together,
              never disclosed we  love each other;
then how do I miss you so much?
                   was it in another life, we were together?

Dark cloud, consort of the rain,
billowing, dense, phantasmagoric, apparition,
             shift--
                     make me a
                     foamy bed, to rest,
                     and a smoky lyre,
                      to make music,
                      give me wings,
                      for my imagination to soar,
                             find me my true love for ever-
                              the ****** white clad maiden of the cloud,
                                the starry eyed angel;
                                  just let me
                                         hover around
                                              with you
                                                       for ever.

The river flowing through limitless space,
milky infinity of the sky-
originates in the cosmos.
Surging luminous consciousness-
that vanishes in to mysterious dark places-
beyond the millenniums of light years,
no one can ever comprehend,
takes other forms or formlessness.

We aren't separate, intricately waved in to one,
we have wings in our beings,
to fly, transcend,
and exist, in formless and abstract state of bliss.

*Pain, darkness and heart breaks, are
just within this plane of dreams,
Beyond this it's only life, and light,
death doesn't exist.

The red rosebud, bitterly wept,
and said" I am full of guilt
          I don't want
                   to bloom at all"

Softness has no measure,
you would suppose,
but your eyes whisper
intimate love secrets, that I gather,
those  gentle waves of softness
my eyes would finely record,
and my heart will resonate
tenderly with its every nuance.

Every look conceals alphabets of
softness, for the one intended,
as those eye lashes flutter, like a dove,
its exact measure, my mind captures,
This softness I receive and respond,
and you send moment by moment,
is the essence of passion we  deeply share.

Your voice quivers, my heart jitters,
a stylus fashioned from thought,
will etch each word,
in our inner caves, for ever to remain.
Softness spreads in the air
when you are near;
from the lovely thoughts you bring,
it permeates defying all science,
conventions and understanding,
I swing in to high gear with love fever.

*Your touch; isn't it condensed softness?
with that flower soft touch, a new level of awareness
in love, comes in to being, I fly in the air,without wings!
yet my heart craves for your eyes' special interest,

won't you oblige?

The more her canine teeth,
dip deeper, on his shoulder,
on crossing the threshold of pleasure,
the more he gets elated;
then, a doubt raises its head
and whispers,*"just being  plain dutiful,
or was it, like she felt, really beautiful?"

Sitting across
my eyes study you;
a painter taking
in his model, to mind's portal:
you sit hunched
over the dining table top,
a work of art
"The girl in a hurry
taking few quick bites"
                               I am a picture
                               yet to be attempted
                              "The man in agony"
                               would have  just dark hues,
you left in a huff
to catch the inter-city train,
I work at night,
so went to lay down,
                                 When my eyes drooped
                                 I leaned against  you,
                                 your scent has such
                                 soporific touch
                                 that bring longings
                                 soon to the fore.
And in my sleep I remember,
you'll be lying in my bed,
with in your lonely mind
all through commuting,
rocked by the train.

That coquettish *****,
has starlight filled eyes,
It's only natural,
that she is a rage among the men.
                         one night in the bar,
                         she raised hell,
                         danced naked,
                         called everybody names,
                         such a racket it became,
                         looked like a hellcat's play time,
the cops came rushing,
siren wailing, lights flashing,
but enjoying her burlesque,
one stayed put with her,
she held him close,
as if she was his girl.
                               he lost his turban,
                              while she mind ****** him,
                               making him promise
                               to keep her out of jail,
                               by hook or crook, even
                              bending rules in the book,
*glinting starlit eyes had
such an aphrodisiacal effect!
he threw his lot with her
and decided:
"My deliverance is her"

Acrobatics of mating bats,
gaping hopelessness,
of half eaten fruits,
restlessness of chirping
birds of different feathers,
ants; red, black, brown
countless of them
in a state of perpetual motion,
apparently for no reason,
up and down, and
on to the branches, leaves;
squirrels, like ringing bells
complaining about
the dominance of the birds-
occupying the branches,
a golden serpent, slithering
through the scaly dark  trunk
to steal eggs kept hidden
in the motherly warmth of nests,
huge green cover of leaves,
thinking itself as an umbrella,
shielding, the sky's eyes
and rain's intrusive wishes,

*but
the tree,
a universe, where
desires, wishes and frustrations
act out  their own plays,
is oblivious
of everything,
and meditates
on the sun.

A dream, time unspecified-
desires descend to my thought,
standing on the side lines,
avoiding the cacophony of the crowd,
excited about her finesse,
I watch her waltz,
                                 oh! those gliding steps!
On the pool of light, round and round
she circles like an angel possessed,
"Today she sets foot on the next step,
to the future.Years sit on her shoulders
gentle.See her beaming, an oil lamp!"

Tomorrow is waiting outside  this hall,
with bated breath, I am aware,
The cheering crowd's cynosure she is,
their eyes, butterflies, flutter around her,
then my eyes catch this, none else did, I am sure,
a drop of sweat, doused in her fragrance,
a diamond, finely chiselled it looked to me,
glitters on her chin, such a lovely sight,

Her partner in waltz just doesn't notice.
And I thought,"My God! she is gorgeous"
And it falls, the diamond, though so far,
I extend my hand and grab it, what a magic-
I share with her?

A Heartless act
                                         #
   I let you put your signature
                       in my throbbing heart,
how could you heartlessly erase it,
               unheeding my pleadings and part?
                                                #          ­  


                                                              ­                    **Wistful thought about the one who left
                                                          ­                                                  #              ­                                                   
             ­                                                                 ­      Without a word, she left,
                                                           ­                                       her soft whispers still reverberate,
                                                    ­                                   would she remember our days together,
                                                                ­                                 I realize, her silent presence was my succor.
                                                         ­             #

Silver lily of the pond,
drunk with the wine of moonshine,
went to sleep, with a smile on her face
still dreaming moon's embrace.

The breeze that tickled leaves,
made them laugh, without control
now whispers, hush hush,
A lovelorn cloud with her transparent lace,
wipes the moon's misty face.

Down below, in an unseen corner,
concealing her doleful heart's desires,
a faint  shadow of the night light,
adoringly looks at the moon,
her beloved she silently desires.
*But this love, tragic and futile,
is not known even to the moon

Every time
I start anew,
or decide
to leave,
without fail I arrive
at a new beginning.
                           Every start
                           is an end-
                           of something.
                          Each arrival,
                          culminates in a departure,
                                                 fallen in to  the cycle of
                                                 'samsara'
                                                 vagrant mind, plays
                                                creates illusions;
                                                ends and beginnings.
When the karma wheel completes its circles,
without thinking, consciousness merges with 
 the ocean of                                                       eternal being
arrivals and departures mean nothing,
If  
consciousness  is still and unmoving,  in the point between
birth                                       and                                       death.

He touched
           a woman
                        once,
   she gave him
                         a look,
                                              he took it in his heart for ever.

Is there a kind war?
happy dying star?
Isn't love without sacrifice-
a rose devoid of scent?

A deep realization,
that perfection is the
fragrance of resonating hearts-
can sustain bond; love would burn
even in times of intense pain,
then we would forget,
anything that would come between.

When I began the walk, down the path of life,
you joined hands without knowing what to ask,
what is that awaits us, how would we  know,
taking your hand, I vowed,
everything is for you till the end,

The winds may change,
the path could be strewn with thorns,
fraught with adversities,
in this journey we may falter, even fall,

I know this in my heart,
still you'd whisper soft:
"we were united by sacrificial fire
how could we ever separate?"
a Vedic right passed on to us
through millennia, we still embrace,
Can just a chant be that magical,
make hearts meld together?

Am I limiting my chances , of pain
by putting a blind on your eyes?
Even if I tell that you won't take it
not even  for a moment.

*Every time your eyes flood,
your lips tremble like dragon flies,
a stab in my heart I feel, it bleeds,
I hold your hand,tight
I hear my lips whisper
" Sacrificial Fire is our witness"

Physics may unravel the secrets,
of the  magnetism and electric pull between us,
but about the rest, it'll be only mute,
our laws of attraction will still be in the dark.

Cognitive science may be eloquent
about your keen intelligence and mine,
but falling in love, is beyond the ken of all this,
Is it the rush of hormones that -
brought us together like two merging whirlwinds?
Then, why not before this with any others?

Or was it a flash at first sight
that ignited  our unknown depths,
and built a' tower of desire',
burning like a raging fire, in our hearts
that mixed, dreams, imagination and intuition
with the magic of extra sensory perception?

**We should better solve the puzzle with a burning kiss

Don't walk,
protected
by shadows
wearing masks,  
                         when streaming light,
                         gleaming sword drawn,
                         comes to annihilate,
                                                     ­     evil shadows
                                                         ­ with vengeance;
                                                      ­                               *where would you hide?

The night sky of sleep
was ebulliently psychedelic,
specs of colors, yellow, brown, red,
created an ancient language
that spoke, secrets of a forbidden past,

The helicopter crept through,
the sky, tearing the canopy
of lights momentarily,
landed on a high rise apartment of dreams.

                                Now, after all these years,
difficult to remember,
who lives where;
aren't we somnambulists,
without navigational aids?

I would suddenly wake up
from one dream
                             within another -

soft touches of tender fingers,
sweet whispers in my ears,
soft light spreading its palm on an exposed shapely breast,
                                                         ­         I'll sense a disquiet,
a sigh, the pangs of a weeping heart, incidental results of
a life of passion, strife and agitation,
getting ****** by currents,
diving deep in to swirling waters
                                                          ­    

                                                           ­     In a dream, a young woman,
                                                          ­      standing on a podium, in a class room,
                                                           ­     teachers in a trembling voice
                                                           ­     how to appreciate poems:
                                                          ­      "From beyond light years,
                                                          ­       comes our grief..."
                                                       ­         the scene dissolves in to mist.
                                      
                    ­                        silence!


I am an yellow moon,
she is the pale mist circling,
we are in an embrace, momentarily,
                                         in a dream
in the jeweled bed of the night sky.

She was eating fish, evidently relishing every bit,
         but with some haste.
  He sat with a bottle of wine
              so relaxed,
         seemed exploring
     something lost in mind.



                                             Now, her plate is full of bones,
                                                   artistically placed,
                                             his conversations with wine,
                                                     goes unabated,
                                                 *he is certainly marooned in an island.

Soon, she will
look at me and smile. The birds
sitting on the branches,
an alert column of soldiers,
will whir through the air,
hearing sounds of guns,
missiles making booming war cries,

being victors of all seasons,
we'll embrace her too-
with a smile.

The jasmine flowers on her dark hair,
will make one feel dazed,
and dive head on-
in to the depth of
blue timeless sleep.

That marauding meteorite,
                                                   too­k away my heart.

I was ,
sitting on the bank
                      watching,
                            ­         the river,
                                              its flow,  
                                                       the current,
                                                        ­              inner spirit,
                                                         ­                               and
                                                                ­                                 something beyond
                                                          ­                                                               eternal;
                                                        ­                                                                 ­       I felt
                                                            ­                                                                 ­        the river
                                                                ­                                                                 ­             watching me
                                                              ­                                                                 ­                          from within

Sinuous, serpent, coiled in the hole-
of the fig tree of my existence,
your power unlimited, realizes me this:
**life, at its best is a creative upsurge unbelievable,
when released after long and patient meditation, the energy
that crosses six centers, and reach the lotus, at the crown!

They said " Aren't you mistaken,
the flower of your choice, has no color, just plain"
*I said with a grin, "But didn't you see? look twice then,
she is pithy and sublime, for me the mien not the skin"

Everyday as I cross this road, here
you pass me flashing a sunny smile,
its magic, touches my being
changing  this colorless life awhile.
At the broad display wall, a casual glance, I'd cast
and think"Such a smile would look nice over there"

Today, a miracle touched my heart with its feather,
your face in its liveliest best, on posters,
are displayed  on the same wall I fantasied.
*The caption proclaimed:"She is the next big star"
This  jaywalker never would see you hereafter.

My demure doe,
                                                 -disguised,

                                                gunp­owder keg,
effect of your kiss: more is less;
                                                  -not satisfied,
let us roll
on the  bed,

two primitives,
in need to meld

and get over the desire, primordial,

at the earliest,

your fuse, in this regard
is as short as mine,

*let's ask,
each other
for more:
explode.

An ****** haircut,
she does give,
that only a lover can;
sweetly amatory
are the cuts and nicks,
that heighten
my  sensual pleasure.


                  click of scissors -
                  the sound her lips make,
                  when we hesitantly unlock,
                  after a long, squiggly, sloshy kiss.
    

                                            *now, her scissors
                                            get busy, giving the
                                            tips of my hair
                                            sweet pain of love bites,
                                            my ***** are on fire,
                                            goosebumps sow desire,
                                            my eyes, wink and shut,
                                            if I swoon, no wonder,
                                            this sweet torment,
                                            brings me to the limits.

On the vine of mortality,
endlessly spreading-
every moment, on the tree of time,
we are blooms,
with eye catching hues,**
gradually wither and fall,
as foot falls of death come near,
in the harsh summer of life.

But there isn't any fear,
divine fragrance of immortality,
in every bloom will remain, for ever,
the wind of cosmic bliss wound gather,
the fragrance of all blooms withered,
and scent the immortality's garden,
where new blooms, once effulgent beings,
now stars of paradise,
beam their golden  light for ever.

They would vie with each other,
to adorn that eternal scent exquisite,
to make it their own, and to be gratified.

In a time machine, going back to past,
this  disturbing thought entraps me:
if someone wants to eat me
who should it be?
rather a mystical woman, mature
than a skeptical nymph,
an optical illusionist
who with her eyes,
showed few tricks, to me lately-
perfectly fits the bill.

As the  mountain wind blows
with an ominous boom,
the mandarin ducks
in migration quack, aloud-
and spread gloom,
the water once I swam
had a stench that kills lilies inch by inch,
I feel a pall of gloom
spreads around, a numbing grey shroud.

I wait here alone, at the end of my tether,
my heart being eaten by moths with long fangs,
soft voices die, acrimony reigns,
things need to be done, can't wait any more,
please listen, my heart's only hope.
I can't share the pains with none, but you,
I waited , staring at the path's end,
harsh light made my eyes sore, tearful.

I feel, now the dark alone will take over my soul.
I  listened, the bell ringing at your end,
but you didn't  pick up the phone,
did you in thin air vanish altogether?
you don't understand, but time
runs out, like a  sudden dam burst,
*the world we believed in, is crumbling, with a sound,
this deluge will pull everything, down
Please do something. This is the last call.

In the costume drama of the universe,
there are no roles we haven't donned,
we ruled the seas, land and skies,
in an oblivious flow beyond eons.

A million years ago, one morning,
I stood here, a Neanderthal, naked
facing an ebullient sea, ecstatic,
in the frenzy of creation.

On a tree branch you sat, near
a bird with colorful plumes,
that sang for my heart to rejoice,
the tune had something ethereal
that transformed me to a handsome pagan, so sudden,
tears streaming down my cheeks, words eluding, I promised
to pay you later, for that invaluable gift, magical
you waved your wings and said, "See you later"

Today,
you flashed your smile, and I remembered
the song, that transformed me to a man
on my winding road to evolution.
Now, you sit looking at my eyes, oblivious of our past
an alluring lass, a bird from paradise,
touching my heart yet again.

You said, "As I saw you in the crowd,
some thoughts, mysterious rushed in
as if I know you, some time, perhaps a life before?
*"The truth is " I murmured in  to your ears-
"One million years, aren't that far"
you might not understand, but your heart did answer
those eyes unfailingly told me at once.

Consumed by a primitive hunger, they made passionate love,
in a lovely wooded stretch, away from their verdant village,
the girl, in the throes of a newly known pleasure,
felt something round, just below earth,
touching her moving hip; it turned out to be a dinosaur egg!
a witness beyond time for the ardency of Tamil lovers

Butterfly caught in a fine web, fell in love with a beam of light,
only to make the reluctant dark night jealous,
streaming light couldn't even sense her presence,
*she was a recalcitrant dance, at once gorgeous and fierce,