You are repeating
hymns to douse the flames
of a burning god.

Walk to the potter's
field, where books are
buried in wraps.

In the wasteland,
you can search the frozen
tears of Zen.

Like today.
I walk myself, in my footprints
tasting grassiness
sending the runners,
on the anniversary, of the brain's death,
when no deliverer was in sight.

The empty chairs in black rain
wait for the parted windows
to let in the screaming light
for a reunion, with the children
of tongue, who were lost
in wilderness of vows.

Looking at the world
from a keyhole, at an unearthly hour
you viusalize a miracle,
to heal the blood apart, wounded
grains of golden dawn, a mother
thrashing for charred hunger.

Love makes the jasmines
weightless. Your confession tells about
poverty. I walk in dreams.

Night makes you rich.
The door opens for the spirits. Now spare some
life to listen to the voices of the unknown.

It was almost done to
create a god of nobody. Where the
carnivores live to devour the loved ones.

Standing on a ledge―
counting the clouds.
Moon will never betray me.

Was it so easy to―
say goodbye, after thousand
words spent on you?

Your skin flutters like―
a flag. The big name of
stain was still beautiful.

Love had become a
truth, of a martyr. The
slaughter was a bundle of lies.

How will you undo the―
knots, of undying smile?
That was a thrill?

Go get the award of defeat.
I am still working on you.

Grammarly it hurts.
The pale eyes ****. I clap and ****
the smile. Someone knocks at the door.

Stage was empty. Not
finding any movement. The seminudes
don't want to display cuts and bruises.

Vertigo. My gloves hang.
Wearing a mask, takes away the vibes.
Words sleep on lips. I become dumb.

Bending the truth,
you return back to your home,
separated by a―
monologue of lie.

When do we become human,
collecting the firewood, to burn
the wax houses, lifting the sky
to fall from heights?

It was a rare glimpse―
of the running limbs,
in unison, when the rains arrived
in the long-armed dahlias.

This is cryptic nonsense when
you start seeing the flesh,
in grass, where moon has come down
to water the Lucifer.

The thirst will know,
the river was there.
To lie on the grass was ultimate.

It was not the green,
it was not the blue,
but desire had the keyhole to look
at the fine sands,
where you stand to find the
elixir of life.

A crackling of joint, awakens
you. You will not wait
for the rains to come and overwhelm
the permeable umbrella.

A fluttering butterfly
knows, how to become floppy
and dangle like a dead leaf.

The stream was
drinking its own water.

Completely broke,
an empty glass, wants
to drink from your eyes.

Validity was incredible
between the silence
of centuries.

Give back my nowness.
Future had migrated into past.
Moon will not rise
for me.

Where was the apotheosis
of my defeats? Any extra
kiss of fireflies was not sufficient.

I will write my own
end in your hands, when
sun brings down the flame.

To sin with the invisible,
had become a liberation.

The porus mind―
in the vacant chair, thinking
of infidelity or unbelieving― with
folded hands in prayer
like mantis.

Eating moonlight―
a predator will wait
for a victim fall.

In meditation, you
evolve into Zen. The intuition
to ****, the urge― to go
bald and bare.

The kleptomania. Let me steal
your god from your garden―
without any need. Just
a showpiece.

In a death trap
millions of caterpillars die daily.

What organicity!
Moon was coming down
on me. A visual alacrity,
accepting the surrender.

Journey to dead phrases
begins. Revivalism?
You dig out the extinct remains,
the forbidden Anemone, daughter
of Mars.

Come once, to my side,
to receive my fervor,
making me timeless.

Desires were ace runners.
Mind picks up the cobalt blue
of your eyes.

Now you go blank―
against the cult. The thumb
was set lower than the forefinger.
It will not pull the trigger.

Standing on black stones―
in water death,
I let it go, my pride
at the end of bay.

No obituary
no elegy,
will erase the thoughts of coming and going
of moon, when night
starts crying.

The smoke-filled eyes
will speak of the burnt house,
when the sun was
telling the truth.

Setting frozen tulips
at your feet, I bring the
river of tears
to start the day.

The blood rules in
dark. I know your hemlock.
There will be a riot of lips.

Give back my things
The sky of eyes. There was no
color assault. Irises were blind.

Let me walk on rose
thorns in sun. You will never know,
the fall of Niagara has stopped.

Your body in mud pack
in line of fire
suddenly finds a lover.
I was watching with concern.

Cup of soul, lined with abrasive desires
was empty. Do not go raging in the
sea, to collect the salt.
The pink eye tells the boom.

We may meet again, may not.
I was leaving behind
a trail of exiled skulls on sand.
The ghosts had left the home waking up

On periphery of trembling moon.
The door did not open for apocalypse.
I fell over long stemmed roses
since life was very desperate!

Retrieve the ancient
mantra to invoke wandering
spirit of Agni.

*

Let the time burn
in crucible of fair pain to
test nugget's glitter.

*

Still ******'s book was
untouched- unopened
to redeem the words!

Treading―
through self, you will
discover your other side.

A gateway
lotus pond, where you
will talk nonstop to poems.

My evening dress sheds
the microview―
of flesh for rising moon.

A ***** speaks
for the first time of
death's dilemma, to stay or to go.

You were very keen for
sense of smell. I have
stepped down from the ivory
tower, repeating myself.

A mute revenge **** was
defeating the god. Would you
end up to be divine
than human?

Becomes difficult now
to rekindle. There was no hope
to touch your fringed orchids
with pouting lips.

Brokers have come out
in open to sell the fake Michelangelos.
I had painted you on a frail
paper with broken fingers.

Will you place some
candlesticks at the altered
windows of your house
to misguide me?

There was some pain
in your thick voice.
You had gone too far.

Hunted like
a deer, for an ecstatic vision
I was very angry with me.

Learning deep, back
to back, you were aware of
the dogma. It was a witch.

Chasing you on reverse
feet. One kiss less―
you become a beast.

An asp in the sleeve.
My bullet-riddled body
will wait for your stone.

No more I will write your
arrival. The twinkle reflection
of your eyes― uncrying.

Pin pin drop. I start
my silence.My poems of sea become
violent. You teach the sun.

My pain moves backward.
I am laughing with stings.The venom
turns into a helix. You go yp.

A cold blooded ******.
Have mercy. Whole body is dead. Only
heart beats to give you strength.

A trivial pain
becomes a storm, severes the
words, bleeds the truth.

My legacy travels
with you to discover the ruins
of forgiven mistakes.

Do we belong to
primates, in evolution from
humanoid to god?

My words are now dying.
Have you any thoughts? Your body
would not obey to **** the signs.

Bring the marigolds. The
darkest moon was coming to be hanged.
I would like to touch him.

In a naked audition,
were you sacrificed? You want to start the
****** revolution to wake the sun.

What else you will
give me, after you shot down a
parrot, eating a pomegranate.

I am rewriting the
pain of the unheard birth of a
promise to die again.

It was a visual ******
of the signatures to build a
mausoleum of a disappeared deity.

My poems do not reach
you. Night still burns my heart,
and undresses my wounds.

Half-human in the
pages of epics. I find faces of leopards
digging the tombs with gloved hands.

Do I frighten you my
love? My clairvoyance shows my hands
tearing away all the pages of history.

Between direct and
indirect lies futurism. How
to take on the incredible?

Will you leave my
hand? I asked the scented wind.
In sanctuary god takes turns.

You speak via eyes. How
to live in sanctum -sanctorum
without dying?

I wanted to reach
you one day. Will you open the door?
Did you apologize for not committing suicide?

No restriction to go
beyond the sky. No objection to end.
Between real you and real me it was dark.

There was pain between
spoken and unspoken words. I have seen
the thousand ants in line to jump on the flames.

A dynamic ****,
when you start crystal―
gazing.

Were you a participant
of an organized
**** of the planet?

Your roots drop,
as you gamble with the
change of coins. It would
become a stillbirth,
of a seaisle.

Telling lies has become
a lucrative job.
Are you going to buy immortality,
in the bazaar of bazookas?

The blast cells were
rising. There was intense
pain in my thighs. Blood
was turning white.

It takes time-
to brace up, after
the sudden meltdown,
casting a spell on you.

Sometimes I want you
to walk away from punishing
memories of a strange
solar eclipse.

I drop the crumbs
involuntarily, to pick up
my timeless hunger
of a nameless neighbor-
the Grim Reaper.

Wide-eyed irises smile,
when you touch the distraught face
of dipping moon, caressingly
in pain of quickness.

Your crimes are wiped
out, you rise from the red sea
like a sunken dream.

The interstellar
reticence, becomes the
muse of a storm.

*

Departure begins,
when the lights are dimmed.
Night licks the moon.

*

Now, you can
roll up the stings.
Cadaver will not rise.

*

The bell rings―
for the last exhibit.
Moths were waiting.

You wished a
talented end. When you
denied me, where

Was the wrong moon?
Like nightbird you birthed
an astral poem.

Plunged in bone-
deep, an arrow ejects a
rose from belly button.

A blind end. No pain.
The path leaves, washing the
inside and outside. My carafe breaks.

Where will the water go?
Can we create a silence of nothingness?
The materials scream in a loud voice.

The abnormal looks beautiful.
I search for the answers in the dark.
My thoughts shout, My art was stolen.

Your face becomes
an eye, a saga of
holding the assaults.

A body hails
the sagacity.

A child becomes a man
away from home
of truths, god forbids.

The innocence gives
rise to a mound of bones.
Death lingers to
take revenge.

Brutality breeds
brutality. Can anyone
break this cycle by giving
one's life after receiving the award?

Blindfolded you wanted
to catch the moon.
It was no my fault.

The sounds first crushed the
strings and then came loud rumblings.

My darkness
was taking the revenge.

You knew because you were blind.

Cadavers. No names, after
cleaning the blood. You paint on―
the forehead. Quake.

Pushed upwards in seconds―
the absence. You were saved
because you were telling lies.

It was not an imagination.
Find out, who was―
omnipresent― no where?

Thoughtless, feet
of clay carry you to ocean
of fire. How your boat will sail?

Why do you take your
life for the sake of migratory
birds that fly away in winter?

Let the humming
birds come back. I have to
understand staying in flight.

Drowning her children
back in her womb,
a big tear rolls down the cheek of earth.
She was sitting on broken bones
to watch the terror,
ear for ear to listen,
eye for eye to see.
Hope was becoming ephemeral.

Nostalgia for breathing in,
the scented grains of death’s fruit,
no analogue, no relics of blood
and a ceremony of water, soil and wood.

All gone. It is a battered rubble
back to back, autoclaved, clean.
We walk back, heads bowed, shaven,
absolutely fouled with no immediate answer.

Was there a dialogue on non-death?

The space had a scent.
In stunned silence, I will
speak my mind.

More was less. Nothing
stirs, the raging pyre.
As if the poverty of thoughts had ended.

The happenings, splinter
the dream again. Sun steps out
from the black clouds.

You find yourself
interpreting the propelled blaze,
sleeping amidst the mirrors in dark.

The ******* jumps the
boundaries. I am your only
dilemma. I never speak in whispers.

What was your dharma
while sharing an occult?
A weird thought flees
from the landslide of eyes
to find an alter ego.

Half home was not
needed. A blue lake freezes.
I will never ask you to come back.
Let the sun melt all the dreams.

The littered words
start anarchy. You cannot
pick the vague meanings of
wild verbalism. Moon sinks
in sea to lick the wounds.

I feel a presence.
Jessamine's smile.
A bright planet was going to
take birth. Nobody wants
to be left behind. I take the pen.

Under deadly nightshade
we met for the first time,
to watch each other's brilliance―
and rip away.

The scars had become our
moons. We sailed through―
the ocean of grief.

When we gather in dark
there was no choice―
between I am, and you are.

You were afraid to confront―
not accepting what your skin feels
and mind rejects.

The soul searching begins
to become non-conformist,
in green night―
beautiful night.

It was a subtle shock.
I will meet you before
the sun sets.
Smiles have come up for sale.

The failed aphorism.
You were always afraid
of an anvil.

Hot iron was not red. You cannot multiply.
There was no trauma.
I will ask for my blue stars.

The hooded threat
was evident. You were not
ready to face the stroke.

With bare hands I will
dig out my key. Your kindness
was enough to open the lock.

Life brings out the
intense eyes of cobra, ready
to charge.

Trying to count
the beautiful years, spent
in the journey of heart.

There was an uncanny
feel. The pink coldness
was not mine.

Like you ditch the
timelessness, and live in a
drop of dew to meet the sun.

The flesh. A suicidal
move to move away
from the relationship of night.

Of the tenderness,
benign death of a star.
Dust celebrates the glorious fall.

The grieving will not
stop. A charred book of bliss
terminates the vision.

There was something
wrong. Yet I had not come
to my home. Trust was eroding.

Moon comes under fire.
Maskless he was stealing beauty
of earth, in freezing dark.

I had no ambition left.
Even touching the truth of
three layered lies of love.

A danger looms
large, permeating in
eyes, arms and legs.

This was an
ethnic divide of the body
for different hurts.

My voice doesn't
reach you. Still I was
calling you from thick fog.

Some galaxies are
half-eyed. Come follow me,
I will show you a burning comet
with a heart of ice.

Dust takes revenge.
One day burning glass
will ask the price of living.

I knew you will
attack from within to
become a ghost.

How much less
I knew?

Who goes haywire?
You make me to break again,
I break you to make.

*

Latch on to a poem
and you become yourself a
warm heartfelt song.

*

The saddened thought
was a omniscient truth,
between you and me.

I am the circumference
and I am the center.
My math has failed.

Snooping at your dark gods,
the pi fumbles. Reverse
osmosis starts.

After lynching the saint
you put him on pedestal.
The frenzy, the blaze, and mayhem begins.

The portrait of the fugitive
was incomplete. Lilies
drop the colors and become nuns.

The cage becomes bigger.
You leave the salt. Tears
with laughter would do.

Can you share your
success? You give pain to everyone.
You were stealing the happiness of poors.

A priceless stigma to be
lifted from the cemetery of the
creative zombies. I am turning back all the gods.

The truth has no names
no home. Only souls live to wait
for the white bodies.

Moon reacts when I
hold your hand for a secret pass.
My eyes were always wet.

Pain, tremors, amnesia.
The World was changing very fast.
I will beg for your rebirth.

Money was a brilliant
idea to play in the future. But I was
a loser by betting on me.

This one-sided
dumb feeling, rising―
nothing less.

Spurned.
I reconstruct your
profile after strip tease.

Stitching the
thoughts with my empty
pen, no ink― no paper.

A poor day at hand.
I will not talk to anyone
about a dumb doll.

No fillers.
You don't need any make up
to bring the black smile.

Moon and the candle,
both were wary
of silent storms.

This was my signature
blood. I will think about you. Are
you all right? Almost all the love has collapsed.

What was your lasting
pain ?What was humanistic fear
in telling the truth of one ******?

The same tears of moon
I don't want to swipe in sunlight
I have now stopped asking.

It was absence of truth.
The silent pain writes a name in
the invisible book for a monograph.

Draw my old blood.
You want more water. Hydrangeas
are thirsty. Want to drink from your hands.

You ask pure love.
A Sleeveless torso was utterly homeless.
Prayers have gone god free.

This was an elegy for a
fallen tree. Salt of my body collects on
the skin. An aphrodite walks on the ****** trail.

The daughter of the moon
cries gently. Under the snow storm,
what was the legacy of hiding the sun?

You rise like a volcano
to engage me. Put the thoughts in
mind-space to communicate with your soul.

Again the salt lake in
my eyes spills. This world will
ever become happy one day?

Kafka, why were you
so sensitive? A melancholy teacher
becomes a god of the poor student.

How is it, the right
becomes wrong. Your chapter belongs
to the philosophy of the death of man.

The genial face of nephrite.
Jade, stone of the flank,
was becoming sectarian.

The pain was excruciating.
Not the evidence of god―
an imitation love.

The anatomy of conflict
looks ******. The street fight
comes out in open. A new born baby

on trash bin. I will not
ask who was the father of
truth. Today I commit myself

to the walking stones. There
was no music. You are
awakened by a loud thud.

The god falls from a big height.