You must see your
own fall. The panther wants to
**** himself. Elephants change the path.

I don't want to believe
in anything. God believes in me.
The roses do not want to go to the mausoleum.

What I will do, sitting
in the dark, carrying tears in my
pocket. I want to stop birthing.

It is.
What you don't think,
and don't want to share. Nothing.
Kamikaze― divine wind
destroying your crotch.

Saffron― dried stigmas.
The hiss of a dead shake,
kitchen's flavor for celibates.

Many roads to reach
the mannequins. God is
one. Hydra's tentacles catch
the believers.

Unwholesome.
I won't taste the violence
of celestial bamboos.

Exploring the voyage of
a stairway. The trees would take
to learn the truth in the dark.

The mercy of water
speaks. We will not talk about
the ending of a trip in space.

The moral face appears
again in lingual pain. The dumb skin
chokes the trigger. No thought survives.

Absolutely zilch.
Sometimes you feel―
nothing moves.

Coming out of
remorse, there was no
confronting power―

to reason. Even
time freezes in your pen,
ink evaporates.

The blues, become
a sacred cove, where
a lake would take birth.

And a speaking
pain will embrace your
sinking boat.

How will you go from
moon to god? Sometimes I feel like
drinking hemlock. Easy to die.

But this is denying the
god. This thinking is very cruel. Preparing
for invasion? Are you ready to open?

Flowers are coming near the
flames. Who will call honey bees?
It will be a collective suicide.

Wearing a straitjacket
you come out in open.
This was a black day.
You were not invited.

The economy smells of stale fever.

A pungent smoke rises
from the joints.

A decision drifts. Scare of
paper bomb stills―
the flow of tea.

There was a party.
People come and go. Skullcaps
galore. White on brown sugar.

There is no love lost between us.

Night comes like a
black dog
around the corner.

I start paying off the debt
cry for cry, with a
ceremonial sword,
cutting off the shadows
falling from the
distant hills.

My questions are burning―
on pyre. How did I fail myself?
Why some mercy
was unacceptable to me?

Standing in midstream
I let go your hand,
and drown in quick sand of thoughts.
Now a poem will
lift me from the ruins.

Landed into a pi I―
am still struggling to
sort out, what did I lose
in vocabulary.

It was a functional deficit
of a low profile. I
have come to speak for
the fallen year.

The new dawn brings the
red poppies. You can squeeze
the milky sap from the
crown.Each moonrise―

will give you heavy dreams
laden with anxiety and despair.
Somewhere you fight the
inequality of inheritance.

The words always betray
when you stand tall.

I get you- earnestly.
In my short poems,
in binge reading, of your eyes.
The tears of hills will not go waste.

Lamb by lamb, you
search the pink contusions
becoming nebulous images.

The fear of black waters
will always chase you under
moonlight.

And the night releases
my pain. Iris and muse become
one. Devastated stings
go back home.

You will not commit,
will not offer the grief of veil,
which would not hide the face.

Will it last, the
deep depression? I will give you
a call, till I am not.

Time to cross the long river
when I come to deliver
the god's truth in your blood.

My eyes wait for it to happen,
in wind or gale. I am riding the
sea, to decipher the depth of tears.

The soft pain lashes
in a bizarre manner. You
become me and I
become you.

The veil cracks
on your face, to reveal
the contours, like
Saturn without rings.

Just like delphinium,
speaking truth- A hummingbird
dives in your lake
of viola.

Now the world has
changed I smell a Greek
tragedy to say that, we
have suffered too.

A young loved one picks
the lineage, and little words
collect the big big thoughts. Life sizzles.

Who was about to
expire? My thumb leaves an imprint.
It must be cruel, which should not be.

My faith deceives, like
a bird falls on the flames. Was it a
suicide? The wall breaks to exit the home.

You failed yourself,
when I was done with the depth
of the sea for truth.

*

You were not being in-
hurricane, when doorkeeper slept,
without any bearing.

*

The life betrays to
everyone. You stand *****
when the blue rains come.

You will never count when you
stitch the stars on a milking tree.
Nobody will cry. Nobody will laugh.

Was it an invasion of privacy?
You share the saliva with pursing
lips. The tall tree spins.

Was it the elixir of love
or the poison of life? Who will know?
The roots become deep and rich.

A marble conceives
the geraniums to revive beauty
of rise from garbage.

It happens with mud-
slide. Not very sensuous but
your humor goes down.

Even beasts behave
when they are level hungry.
They know what to eat.

Don't come near sea,
I ask the moon, braless-
in love galore.

What will you see
in eyes of the burning sun-
rising very sadly?

It was writer's cramp,
coming at shrine of snow
god under dark clouds.

Looks like ordinary
eyes. You break me again when
blue lake dries up.

*

A flyover runs fast
to catch the man in haste, going
for a pilgrimage.

*

Account must be cleared
before you sell future into
the penniless fakir.

Will you cheat me one
day by your sinful hands, I
ask the city in bloom?

*

You can call full moon
after amputating my legs,
so that I don't run.

*

It was not tragic
ending, when we pretend to
find a pink tiger.

A solemn moon
talking to hills,
plunged in pain of *******.

I steer quietly out
of this queasiness, did't want
to accept the risqué.

A spider was climbing
on a wall to weave
a sticky web for a baby face.

Like an aspen leaf
you tremble in even a slight
breeze of a beautiful thought.

The garden lizard
changes the color. Who was responsible
for the ruins of temples
and mosques?

Let me talk to the god, the god
standing at my door
engaging the harvest moon.

You walk through me
opening the portal of―
unending moment.
A right to die lingers in the eyes.

Not a serenade. I am
tying the knot on the tree.
The wait was becoming too long. I
would read again Hamlet without the prince.

Truth was not happy, when
you brought down the body.
The wind was moving like a panther
stealthily before the ****.

How shall we bite our toes―
now? They have left
a ****** trail on the
weeping grass.

A nagging pain,
speaks wordlessly in the ears
of moon for a kiss.

*

Old-time will not
come back to pick again
peacock's tail eyes.

*

What was nothingness
if you get the exile
in the hands of deity?

I have not done this
to me with a purpose to arrest the door
keeper. How can you live without kith and kin?

This is a tribute to the
pain of giving blood to a tree of thoughts
Was it a nightmare to write a poem?

Do you think the world
will die one day. Bloomers
will put the body in a cauldron?

The survival of your
skin was important. I have nothing
to say. As you are. Revolution will tell.

In my defeat, I have
won. No mercy, no help. All this is
not mine. I discovered an event.

Finding my muse, my melting
passion, a god. My regret haunts me.
People who were dead started speaking.

In my weakness to
live to the edge of no return,
tears will make a shrine.

*

Uncensored my
poem will speak for the restrain of
underscored facts.

*

Punctuations give
you pause, before you enter
the tender skin.

The traveler sleeps in a sepulcher,
endlessly, timelessly,
where no ray of light enters.
Like the death has stopped
moving, for a moment
to celebrate the close of the journey.

Indeed? Is it the edge of yearning?
I no longer belong to any one,
to any universe. Come a long way
walking barefoot on hot sands
of life where no footprints exist.

Do not go for my vision. Find
your own path. In yellowish― brown
eroded silica, ripened in sun,
I have left my eyes. The moon
will tell the tale of my Olympian
failures.

Transparency.
Where were you in dark,
in my intense moments?

A lonely spirit will
try to meet you
in blue moon.

Wading in shallow
waters, you speak slowly
to defend depth of pain.

The absolute
becomes ****. There was
no limit to draw the blood.

Uncensored, I
set up the stage for a
guillotine to punish sun.

It was a bright
sun day. The bells
will not ring.

Terrified. Something great,
unknown of lips and kisses, chewing
bitter hawthorn. But we two think separately.

Years are becoming very
small. They're like jaguars without
hooves. I drink from your hands.

I was losing weight
of truth. The masses of glory are
no more first to leave the garden of bones.

You come to me like
a fall.
All the colors have arrived.

The being, an entity―
multiplies. For now,
in past, in future.

A will not move away very far
from the dots.
A tangent will lead you to me.

A search of a tomcat
begins. The chaos of the gods has wrong
effects. Never ask the almighty, why to die.

Everything belongs to
you. Life was ungrateful. All the steps
had fault, but gay blessing goes on

Beware my love, I am
water, I am salt. The tears are in my
eyes. The crucifiction starts.

World wanted
to know, how I am.
I say, ask my poems.

Let's run through the skin
of new heists I was
fighting my own demons.
Racial silhouette
against the backdrop of moonscape
was becoming visible.

You stand in queue
to get the food for thought and home for homeless,
trying to use my poems as activism.

Inviting new-fascists to come
and walk death houses.

Stuck in a cleft stick today,
you search yourself intensely.

Where was my nightingale
in this jungle of raw wounds?

Downloading the fire-
from your long tresses, I have
singed my hands.

A carcass flaunts
the broken ribs. May be
someday it rises from the ashes
like phoenix to see your meltdown.

Not now, I am not ready to die
in your blue lakes.

One day the namad comet with a long tail
was going to crash in your bay.

The thick smoke
covers the embers. You raise
your eyebrows to betray
an unimaginable fear.

Must you lean on-
the window to see the depth
of the fall?

One day I will take you away
like dandelions.

You evoke the desire.
I break like bougainvillea leaves.
Wind sweeps the floor.

After tarantula bite,
I pick a peony― ambling
aimlessly in rains.

Until the seagull
lands, I will stay on the beach
waiting for sunset.

Waves scramble before
the moon rises. I will hold
the flowers in palms.

Erotica will ******
the walking fern. Between stamens
and stigma style sways.

The pollens have something
to say to the moon. Why is moonlight
opening the eyes of blue china rose?

This was very incredible.
Love has many faces. But the
obsession always bites cobra.

This was a perception defict
when only a suicide could stop you.
From where to where we
Have come in traumatized stake.
Black tongues always ruled. No
rite of passage, where money changers
speak. How will you cover yourself now?

Feminized, the dance of wolves.
Do not throw the chunks of flesh
in arena― for hubris will
bring the nemesis.

The flint makes a pledge.
When the red rains come and
overwhelm the innocent earth,
we will make the tools again.

From the other you
comes a rapture of flame,
with blueberries.

*

The depth was in the
smoke, arising from burning
nest of nightingale.

*

At surface we meet,
divide the moments of lilies,
and then fly away.

Cruel times,
and the walls are rising.
The rivals.Medusae versus columns.
Snakes for hairs
opposed to stones.
The bell shaped body with stinging
tongues.

I will not speak.
This is the gift from the womb of
evil.The blues.
Wounded by you.

The color changes.Sunrise to sunset.
You stay in sunroom, in dumbness.
Chilling poverty.

You shake violently.
Give me the skin to cover my bones,
I am bleeding black.You know the tilted moon
still crying.

Mix the color of moon dust
with the color of earth
you will find-
a fringe of untruths.
No one was left unstained.

Meltdown in harm
way begins, burning yourself-
without flames.

What was your last
awakening? I would ask
myself, waiting for a stretched
night for a long sleep.

The heartbeats miss
with every skip of god's name.
Slices and maneuvers-
become the right of day.

Unpeeling my eyes
I catch my shadow.
A naked truth weeps.

Why am I so sad?
I asked the waning moon.
The sun started flirting.

The vellum― still carries
the imprint, where you had
pressed hennas hands.

I came out once of
myself to look at me
from the falling star.

You would never know.
How had you cheated yourself once―
by praying for death.

Take me in moonlight
when it is dark, outreaching
every ache.

I will not ask you anything
when you are on prowl in cobra night.

The womb crumbles.
Salamanders will not endure the flames.
Elemental soul wants to
stay in water.

Living in a wax palace
with honeybees inviting sparks.

My religion wants to change its name.
Cold touch, I will wear
a shawl of slaughtered scapegoat.
Don't call me on the name of a
messenger.

You know there was no
dearth of lies.

We shall meet when our hands start trembling.

You always speak
from the eyes.
My sun will send the clouds.

No it isn't. You
wanted to look away
hiding the moons.

Extra-******. No way.
Tree was crying.
Branches gone, no olives.

This city will start
a trade. Selling
glass eyes of many shades.

The system kills
a dream run, when
you went for a dignified
retreat.

Manipulated beyond
the moonseeds and frigid tears.

You don't want to
relive the epilogues, sleeping
to edge.

When the terra cotta
lamp fails, light weeps for the earth,
and unseen hands.

When inequality threatens,
would you still remain
my gripping shadow?

Ah, it is the breach
which shatters me. I wanted
my right to strike at clouds.

In deep space-
I will not jump
off the ledge.

Blood waits-
to anoint your forehead
for a final call.

Memory crawls-
slithering, to feel
the sacred shroud.

Did you find
my footprints on the
rare altar?

Some days god weeps.
There was no need to sleep
like Buddha!

The spirit had
walked away from
ravaged frame.

A vinyl god
hardens. Forsakes affinity.
I take a dip in tears.

Rains freeze in
my turbulent eyes. The mist
makes you disappear.

Yes no meanings,
you will find in the verses.
Blood drips from the pen.

A flock of startings
sits in wait for―
the sun to rise.

Will you survive
in black death of white moon?
Who seeks salvation?

To say or not to
say. Be yourself, write the
pain unmovingly.

Not the slave of the
habit, I will call you to
hang the white flag.

The silk spreads on
your tongue. No less, it was a lottery
of blood. Not a pathless glory.

Are you going to decimate
the truth? What was ingenuity? Suddenly
an immobile moon.

A dark sunrise. Who
had gathered the sins? Can you
modify the past? Do you still go holistic?

It were not you
at the end of poem. Something
of moon had died.

Time has not come
to intervene in parting
of lips turning blue.

You will not change,
in offering the drink of
stunning Venus flytrap.

Ah, in this―
culture of shames
you will need some divination
for mooning around.

You cannot mend the old
shoes, become an explicator―
of complex human mind.

Cannot face the sun to
catch my shadow. Father and
son were water apart.

The things become no-things
inestimable. I keep on intuiting..

First came the rains,
then winds. I stand for nation.
I fall for you.

Opening night's silk,
remembering you, under moon―
walking on wet grass.

You were not fake in
a crowd of naked fakirs,
taking bath in sun.

The truth must come out
to face the mother tongue,
when god was killed.

Where it hurts, the shoe's
nail. Prodigal son was blind.
Did not read the road.

The heartwood had the ingrained
dream map, to reach the
divine shape of a solemn god, who
was guiding the sap.

One day you would go deep
in dark, to find your roots
where tomorrow was conceived.

And in the ruins, you will
find the warmth of
your peers, still walking on the god-particles.

A religion now takes over
the mob, ready to plunge into yellow
sands of dry river.

The hopes and promises,
give you a horizon, far away.
Your want to touch this furnace,
that brings the burning day of solitude.

This was profanity.
A dead club moss resurrects,
when you sprinkle the water over
dried wrinkled leaves.

From darkness to light
you break the bowl of an angel
and the invisible spills out.

Brother in terror -
of mixed turbans.You smell
the burning flesh all around.

Speed of light from superflares
was not colossal, than the blast of man.
Look, it is still dark here..

Now climb the holy
hills, rising like the *******
of weeping earth, to collect
the daisies for final call.