On the drive from St. Andrews to Aberdeen
I stopped at a roadside cafe,
For toast and jam and tea.
The young blonde server
Took my order,
And never spoke a word.
Then her mother bellowed
From the back of the room;
And her father barrelled through the door,
And a baby cried;
She's wanting more.
This is their country;
She was their girl.
I paid for the platter,
I tipped the teen,
And continued on
To Aberdeen.

Foaming sunlight makes love
                 with the tender purple leaves of mango trees,
light crafts a crust of luminescence,
                  over the profusion of yellow and blue blooms,
avenue trees vie with each other to  hold forth
                  their  flowers on sun's water fall of light to bath.


Evening doesn't show any sign of waning
                   the ebullience  the day had sowed in the world,
"ANANDA" though unspoken as a word, aloud
                    is heard by  inner being, making everyone rejoice,
living and nonliving seamlessly join in,
                    and swim in the swelling  waters of force of life.
past invisible floats gently to the present
                  flows towards a sea of tranquility crossing nights.

Fallen deeply in to a pit, devoid of words,
           marked by shrapnels of  silence,that repeatedly explode,
her soul in pain, yearned to caress him once again
            with fingers of repentance, rekindle the love frozen
but then, he wasn't moved by the tender feeling
              to seek or grant forgiveness  for old times sake,
wearing  a crusted armor, he had crossed the Rubicorn,
              that subtle level where such things of heart matters.

I've returned from the cyclone
Not quite intact
These images are haunting me
Every time I close my eyes.

No patience for people
Their ways take me under
I erupt in fury far too often.

My arms are a Jackson Pollack
My face in the mirror a Salvador Dali
I'm trying the best I can.

The doctors throw cocktails of drugs
my way,
I don't remember who I am
or care to even try
Your either against me or on my side.

I've been hurt too many times
My eyes are likely to swim to the side
I'm dizzy
I'm dumped

My days are too long
My nights are too strong

You think you've got it rough
A little empathy, please
Think of what it's like
to be me.

clouded sky, clouded mind
painful knees, route to find,
went to the store
in the car before
                              the run
                              the rain
one idea followed me
run the route I drove, see?
eight kilometres

less or more, I would find out
with my Garmin Forerunner 305, GPS and heart rate monitor
to prove that I am still alive,

each one point six kilometre
was faster than the one before,
oppressive clouds closing
dark and heavy

city scents gust around me
each vehicle had a different taste
as I pushed the pace,
sweat ran down my face,

faster and faster, I could not master
any speed, just quick enough to plaster
my hair against my head

hamstring want to cramp me
left one, bonus in the last stretch, I could feel the growing twinge
the right one knew better to behave,

in the end
it did end
before the rain came
before the night fell,

tomorrow, I will walk to work and back,
I will do stairs, but go ahead and as
you think of me, I give you permission
to laugh in my difficulty, as I make it
through the day, walking funny and taking stares
                                             from every one who passes my way.