I just read a book
And at the end I was shook.
So I read it again
But then I forgot how it began.
That darned confusing book.

The Man

I was thirsty; he gave no help.
Thence I kept no book on my shelf.
All ocean he wanted to gulp
And keep rest of them to himself.

S. Bharat

It has a slow beginning,
This new book I am reading
Though it’s not a riveting tale
I follow its dry, meandering trail
Boom! A twist in the plot. Gasp! No!
What happens next? I need to know…

I snap to attention, sit up straight
as I worry about our hero’s fate.
Will he prove his innocence to all?
Or will he give up and take the fall?
I turn the page and readjust my pillow.
What happens next? I need to know…

Another twist hits me out of the blue,
Our hero’s not the man I thought I knew!
His dark secret has finally been revealed.
Will he pay for his sins? Will he yield?
I’m down to the last fifty pages or so.
What happens next? I need to know!

I’m filled with love, hatred and anger,
I am unable to change your fear or laughter,
a golden sea could storm a dream,
my aching love can destroy,
eyes indulged in strange design,
my wisdom, pure shore of delight,
you either love me or not,
like an ocean wearing blue,
diamond rings, roses may bloom.

She’s a book.
No not a paperback, but a hardcover.
An inviting sight,
yet cold to the touch.
The scent of woody pages lingers,
the edges never ceasing
to cut your grazing finger
when you least expect it.
Her intricate words, unnecessarily bewildering
Her methaphorical phrases will have your head throbbing
as you so desperately search for their
meanings.
“Daedalian”, she would say,
“As in ingenious, intricate, and confusing”
You spend hours
figuring how to unravel her Delphic words.
The more you read the more complex she gets.
A thin line appears in the middle of her spine,
a crack,
from being opened and closed too much.
Her exhausted pages tattered and dog eared.
Your determination to solve her
was no match for her ambiguity.
She’s  a hardcover
you’ll never finish reading.

Reading lustrous chapters
Softly kissing the words
Pages embracing with numbers
That steadily increase
As these eyes age
With a definable yearning
Wondering when a novella
Will begin writing a chapter
About a 'you' and 'me'

come haunt the Earth,
with everlasting drops of perfume,
my flesh and bones,
the silhouette of spiritual composure.

under my eyes you see the infinite allure of time,
millions, billions of years,
so much you can’t even comprehend,
I told you time is a continuous illusion,
a figment of smouldering history,
time has no trace when envisioned in its fullness,
capacity of great proportions and its limit,
it can no longer portray the absoluteness,
it is painted by the incomprehensible allure and charm,
touch it with senses and desires and it will reveal its secrets,
the fruit of sensuality and grace,
death of the Universe, rebirth after rebirth,
I catch the trace of time,
a kiss of thought in the divine,
me and the mind to rule a world beyond the infinite.

don't be sad for the one who didn't love you back,
love is never lost,
head up and move on,
your being will reach the luxury of time.

I come from far away,
I'm here to save and to protect your vulnerability,
your fright,
the unknown nature of your mind.
as you grow wise, your life will have the meaning you are searching for.