It was restless mind
and I ask you something.

The grammar.
When something big―
happens, I find an excuse
to say small things.

O invisible!
how do I resolve the puzzles
of life. It had become a big
traumatic event.

The rain―
of inflected words
backed up by silence, keeps
me running―
to find the import.

Tell me―
how do I remember you.

You want to make the
pain happy? Like Gestapo you had
picked me. My half-poem becomes the antimatter.

Where has the sensuality gone
in the rose garden? Who was the changer?
What now honeybees are coming?

Between right and wrong
lives our god. Did you ever adored him
to change your gender?

I shut myself,
you becoming a fugitive,
of the neo-genre.

Birthing a truth―
of this world.
No one was a prophet.

In my inconspicuousness,
I touch you with my poems,
to cross the gloomy door.

And the cup remains
half. You kneel in a prayer
to seek what was not possible.

Who would become blameless
if there was no crime?

The gifts of love―
lie scattered. I cannot
solve the jigsaw puzzle.

A heart bleeds without crying.

You had failed me-
god, when angst was burning
my fingers to write.

A poem. Mauve-blue
lips go into a seizure,
to fight the demons.

Delphinium's spur
trembles without any wind. An
angel has fallen.

The gender voice makes you
dumb. One more chapter is beheaded.
My pain comes silently to me.

What do we differ? A beautiful
finish of an era is over. When you faint,
someone chops away your thumb.

Between the cause and
violent hurts, you want justice for
all the souls who left peacefully.

A blighted ****
demands a ransom for life.
Unhinged, you rub with―
the command and
set free a poem.

Some very visceral fears
hold your hand and
ask to write an epitaph
of yourself.

Unboiling the egg in
irreverent manner, you
proceed to make death,
out of eternal entangled questions.

The sheer stress unmakes
you into a creator
and you begin to spawn
a new religion of violence.

Do you want to say
few words before the night
falls on silent credos?

*

Space was shrinking.
We can't breath in gory demo.
Back to back you want.

*

For moonrise in red
sky. There were shadows under
the weeping willows.

Another woman
sits on rose hips
and talks about the spirits.

At sunset point,
I watch you undress,
in fading moon.

I would be talking
to the heap of my failures
for the sake of my touchdown.

There was no looking back
in dim light, when―
you were colorblind.

The arrow tip was
dipped in curare.
It goes straight into the beast.

Writing poems
on your lips,
fearlessly compromising
the Venus.

The pink, female
moonlets, trying to
stitch a womb.

I start a countdown
to launch,
a death paramour.
My severed hand
holds a yellow rose.

Preserving the―
half skull of artificial
intelligence, living
without you.

Meet me again
on the crossroads.
I want to change
the gender with you.

Moonlight you win,
in the dark I fail.

Will you come in the
loop to find the truth of uppity?
A fractured footage―
was silent, hiding behind the words.

The verse libre
was not ready to celebrate life.

The skin purity. Will
you mind to pass on Ammonium nitrate?

My river of eyes has
dried up. Forgive my
benign sins. I am going
to live without you.

The senseless wheels zoom.
How far was the god?

You said
this was it.

The fog over the
shoulders will
sweep the profiles.

You did not know
how to give, and I
would not know, how
to take.

Maples, pears, and ginkgos
will show the fallacy
of colors in autumn.

And you, unblinkingly
watch a
poet's dilemma.

And I would just only stare
into your eyes.

You have reached
somewhere,
on misty heights.

I die again
carrying you under
my skin.

Hidden from the
glare of blazing
sea.

In labyrinthine, you
open the knots―
of uneasy *******.

In silence― we
will give our signs
and part.

My limbs
give out― I walk
in air.

My closing words were
said, the land was sinking under your
feet. I will go into melancholy.

You were partnering my
tears. How does it turn lousy? Rosary
of thorns? Don't make your own funeral.

When God is angry, life
itself will take a nemesis. You stand
alone when it rains from a broken heart.

In search of
Nirvana. To blow out
or you want to be extinguished
after exploding the pod.

History betrays.
Its stout stings cause blues
I love the wars but
not your bad blood.

There were smothered screams,
and there were innumerable faces.
You dig out the charm―
for remaining anonymous.

Kneeling before invisible
god, the absurd icons,
you start whimpering.
Does it bring liberation from
one trap to another?

O god, we run after you
when there was no answer.

When you walk
on the moon in February, I take down
the clouds to become wet.

Your memory lingers.
I gather the monarchs to
play with my pain,

I am not sure, when the
dark moves on to give space to
imprisoned pain.

That mad truth.
The unborn was knifed
long back. Now you throw―
the net in the crowd.

I had found you
after the centuries of conflict―
in small eyes, looking
for the stolen myths.

I want to hold your
face one day and bury it
in my tears. It should not have
happened in the jungle
of jinxed plays.

The unmarked tree. I
had picked up the fallen fruit
to taste you. Would you
find me in dark?

Not exhausted
myself pursuing, your
thoughtless fervor of understory
without retrieving my name.

Do you still remember
the grace of unspoken thoughts?
Once the cobra night, raises
its hood, nobody can stop the strike.

Syntax was
beautiful, not the abstract
of the hidden truth. You
resign to become a unique!

Helpless in my integrity
I don't forgive me, when
I forget my enemy.
And start thievery.

Untamed, by a large, rod
vase of moon, ready to
leap at a shooting star.

Dried knuckles will
not ****** the small moons,
accelerating the downfall.

Pomes go red. A
savage invite staring,
to bite the hidden pride.

We never agreed
dividing the river of grief.
Pounding non-stop
like the gorilla.

An endless hole *****
our sun. Planets have no
choice in the moment
of holocaust.

The birds and bees
fly for the land of brides.
There was no marriage of sins.

Goriness has no excuse
to find another moon.
That was a stranger.

He was asking for, at least,
a passive euthanasia.

Rage or hostility
was giving pain to phantom limbs.
Race puts forth,
a trembling version
of ethnic choice.
A piped dream
which never took off.

On middle of the road
a dragon rumbles,
hissing flames.
Something not on the left
not on the right.
Cannot keep the sky open.
Nothing moves now,
not even leaves of a lone tree.

There was a random cry
unheard in the aloneness of fire.

The twinkling heart
averts the magnetic field of charisma.
I don't want you to stop the pursuit.

A path of truth will
always wait for the pilgrim. In
dark he had lost his direction.

When daylight dims,
I want to know how the pain
of autumn will teach the human.

Way off at point-of-no-return,
my geometry,
collided with you for the last spell.

Lines, angles and curves had
started chopping off the hills of grace.

I had lost my path
in the slant profiles of brown eyes.

You stood in shade, like a
bronze sculpture of Michelangelo.

And suddenly you realized,
it was not enough.The moon
becomes pale.A palm tree
swings in its scars.
At distance the horizon crashes.

Time tricks you.Bones crackle.
The poem was born again,
bluish grey gem.

I take you today,
to test the fidelity,
my hypothermia.

Too far went my pain.
How to forget you?
Your were not you in my every poem.

The faces blend. I
only see my invested image
in dark.

The picture overlaps
completely― our past―
our future.

The time will teach you
the difference between love and
adoration for a bronze Buddha
or a dancing Shiva.

I turn away my face
from the giant screen showing a fall.

Alone with another god
you offer your virginity.

O Nemesis,
a minimal existence
and quantum pain, this is
how you had insulted me.

My vessel was
empty. So much was to
be done and you are still
digging the mass grave.

Who intends to go
blind in the dim moonlight?
Poem was always at the door.

Was there another exit
of purgatory? Can
you find an amicus?

love versus hate.
On whoever you will bet?
Why there was war against the war
when nobody wins?

Why one dies on the tacks?

What if the sword
leaves and purple eyes
of Iris become apocalyptic?

It would be for me― the arrow,
leaving from the arched
bows of goddess of rainbow.

Wearing a tiara, of
golden lotuses, in eerie morning
the sun was rising.

Dawn commits a
genuine sin. Wakes me up
to dig the past for bones of faithless truth.

The silent ocean has
a job to do. Turn me blue in
iced mercy without any smile.

Baked and browned, the
priest, marries a ****** to a ghost.

The evil city? You
become the smallest
light.

The lamb did not save
the godman. I was
praying loudly.

It was falling apart.
The concept, the belief
the palace.

Years roll by. Until
the priest was shot down
on the street.

You marvel at the
turning of the mountain.
How do you climb down the salt?

A rogue word in the
mode of persuasion, had
indefatigability.

When you are maced,
signs stop coming.

Jupiter was ready for
the collision, before you arrive
in dark, sky.

The rapture of the end
will not happen, till you
jump in the blood pool.

The mystery was
tangled up. Why would
you not climb down the stairs?

It still haunts,
The arms of ******* were growing,
and I had started to shrink.

A fistful of scent,
I inhale the lingering
pain moving crescently.

What was your doubt?
The weak bones will not carry
some hidden truths.

The earth will stink,
of broken water. No new god
was going to appear.

Searching poetry in you,
the other name of life, when you hold
a firefly in your palm.

When the first tear
drops from the eyes of a sparrow
the poem is written in first light.

When you have no words
to say goodbye and lips try to say
without voice, the poem starts.

A ***** drags you
to smell the identity of Neanderthal.
How will you define the small human?

Now as I am hurt
I collect my poems from nostalgia.
The olive has the magic. This is not true.

I have to win at any
cost. Will you die for a lie? There
was no afterword after the ****.

The cuckoo gives
a final call.
Moon was rising.

Trivialities of the earth
be aside.My dream
is going to burst.

Golden keys in a ring,
hang down from your neck.
I am imprisoned again.

Into some intimate
moments, I will inject some
tears.My time has come.

Where the road
ends, a tall tree will wait
for your coronation.

Eating thoughts.
You look beautiful
without thinking.

To become
unbeing. You walk
straight into void.

Eyes glazed,
as if washed recently
by tears.

A painless
birth of love between
two hands.

And the weeping
ashoka like willow, bends down
to pick up the poverty
of Buddha.

You walk in sombre
mood- to reflect on
the improbability of human
psyche.

Why did you go to
beat others in race?
Intend to get the authority?

In uncharted sea
the empire would float the
coat of arms, ruling on the waves.

A soldier dies without
fighting. Hail the victory of
unknown.

A sculpture was wrapped
in bloodied shroud.

Same moon, I
will not witness the bloodshed
during the starless sky.

When it is pitch dark
you open the hidden myths of
hanging China rose.

A world dies under
the Chinar tree to save a
rising crimson sun.

Standing in a lone
corner, I was hearing a muffled voice
coming from under my feet.

I place my ears on
dust. Earth was crying. My time is
over. I want to die.

It was not easy to
die for the truth. This was rare.
A crucifixion for a cause.

Had annexed small
things. I am climbing god
without display like a fascist.

Who was a citizen
in no country. You demonize
all the good men telling the truth.

My habits are shining.
I am forgetting myself to become
an ethnic, not praying embrace.

In paroxysm nothing
appeals. I test the burning home.
Where the pigeons will nest now.

The poetics search
the soothing effect of punishment.
Oh in another case give me Ganges.

Fever comes and goes.
You also survive near the ghats.
I talk only with the absent God.

In unblemished irish,
the vision was a link
in blankness of thoughts, when
I was weaving a dream
around you.

Your cameo appearance
in flurry of tears,
rips apart my landscape.

The other moon wails behind the clouds.

In androgynous past,
you want to separate the sandwoods.
Death comes as a long sleep.

Your thick braid moves
like a reptile.

I have stopped scripting
the letters. Words float on the
carpeted domes.

Rains would not come tonight.

An executioner
gazes up into your eyes,
hotting up the gazella.

I am not an asylum seeker.
Was it an insult
to the animal, if I follow a sane path?

From my side of earth,
using different names, unflinchingly
I will speak for the ****** truth.

I never miss a tiger,
even with white coat and
brown eyes. Yellow stripes bring stasis.

Death arranges
the table. You pick up your dish.
O God, I wanted to be like you.

A stunning silence,
again pushes me towards you.
You always grin.

I don't have to
say anything.
We are set to
demolish each other.

Crumpled,
you were the face of
future, I wanted to read.
I fly like a feather.

Quit the path and think
quickly. Pain comes in
full circle. You had started
battling your demons.

Who seeks the attention,
when you were invisible?
The truth kidnapped
cries in cage.

No elegy was needed
for an immoral grief.
I am sick of repeated
sermons.

Something is going to
hit your conscience. Time to go
silent. One should stop sinning.

How will you decide O god
to end the world ? The writing on
blackboard is wiped off.

Your sharpened nails,
O destiny shimmer like the moon, but
scratch the face of the sun.

Implicating
yourself, and telling lies
was an art.

There was always
a trapdoor. Giving a lot
more, than getting less.

Same unthinking
prevails. You forget to
feed the adversaries.

Very nightly
a moon crashes in your
path to meet a colossus.

The thin lovers
again reach behind the
sun. No fiddles were needed
for deaf people.

The blues are going
deeper. You drift like a
cadaver in the moat.

The hanged girls,
unraped?
Or the slit throats?
What your antennae are sensing?

Unlifting the veil,
why were you rubbing the
stones in dark?

Absent seizures.
You blink only, without
any response.

Print your body on the
canvas, with cracked
hands.

The cities are burning.
Throw the nets in the
river. You may
catch a prophet.

A body of fear
blooms like the desert.
The bizarre womb
delivers the ******
son.

The Earth moans,
I will not send the moon
across the continents.

How two persons
can live in one body?
It was a blood feud.

You walk into
your ancestral home,
where you died in the corner
of dark room.

Where the mirror
was placed? I don't
remember. I climb the
attic to cover the bones
of father.

When we will get
the judgment? The city
burns again.

It will come back to you
again and again― the thought
nudging through the magnolias.

Without telling you―
the creamy pink― waxy smell of
the death of the guiding light.

I am lost anew
at the center of conflicts
between earth and moon.

The unspoken pain
of the aroma undrafts
from the fragrant words.

Life folds the hands
at the chest before cracking open
the yawning chasm.

I touch you without any meaning.
No eyes. No ears― miming
secretly the footfalls of shadows.

It was syntax
killing a kiss.
You play with a button.

You press a rose,
between the lips,
in black and white.

A nerve quivers
from head to toe.
Where the stars go when you cry.

The essentia will lift
you for an assumption.
The castle was empty.

Negating the gravity
I remained lonely
after a nightmare.

Watching a hub pushing
out the enigma,
encrypting an unwritten message.

Between odds and
evens, lies a zero. Neither
this way nor that way.

You run very fast
from the fear of persecution.
Why did you downed the Phoenix?

You think the sun is dying.
I am going deep in the ocean.
Eventually the moon ambushes Venus.

It was a grim situation.
The crooked fingers of an old man start
writing an epic. God will not take rebirth.

Where the love will go?
It was enough. In the crowd, I am not going
to raise my hand, to die first.

Did you make up, standing
with elephantiasis on the bank.
No reason. An invisible hand had pulled you.

Why is this pain, in
my and your eyes. In crippling light
the doors of love have been crossed.

How to worship the
holy body made of iron? It was not
an avenger after the fall of head.

Who ups the ante,
if you don't exist to catch the song
of sorrow to become immortal.

For a thousand years, the
iris waits for the light to dig and
redress the memory of gone spring.

The deaf and dumb leads
the voices coming from the active volcano
where the sparks are throwing lava.

A futile attempt to go
for a collection spree.
You got only the numbers.

It had to happen. The drums were beating.

The minority suffers
in the hands of many gods.

Between the black
and white, will it be last battle?

Temples were asked to
give the details of divine―
winds and the red moons.

There was a spiritual conflict,
without giving any purpose.
You cannot dissect
my poems.