See, the smile on the stone face
of the mountain, once so cold, stoic
it drives home the meaning of change
brought about by erosion of ages past,

molten paste slowly sediments,
decides to be various kind of rocks
on it's path being metamorphic
is just one of it's pranks,

volcanoes in ******* frenzy erupt,
display the pyrotechnics of creation
in it's ******  urge a deep sea stream
breaks tectonic plates,makes new continents

mountains that hold their heads high,
are brought down by landslides, floods
avalanches or sudden cloudbursts

stars script secret messages across galaxies
the meanings will never be deciphered
in spite of the astonishing research
astrophysics can put together and
the thirst for knowledge of mankind

Beauty, my muse, lovely concert I adore,
I see you in animals, birds and fish
that undergo mutation and become different,
ocean currents, seasons,shower of stardust,
most of all in music, that activates the hidden signals,
that come beyond birth and death,embedded within oneself

Can you cite one reason for writing biography
of any one, whoever it may be, in this planet?

Traveling across two planets,
I see a galaxy afar.
It's a glimpse of your face
Drawn along a gallery of broken hearts.

There is a place down below
Where the grass is always green
And the sky is always blue
That holds my history of pain.
Why would I want to go back?

I send my spaceship to a special gallery
Where I observe and mourn you, my love.
I look back towards the cosmic proportions
And know that love is at my very fingertips.

Enter—the transitive nightfall
of diamonds.
?There are crop circles dancing
in a wave on Neptune,
with corn rows gleaming from
the man on Mars.
Tail feathers toss toward a
flute near Venus.
Fly me like a rainbow
to the nearest star.
Sirius B
has nothing for me.
Anunnaki women want
to dig my scene.
Don’t take me seriously;
I’m bluffing like a rookie
with a pair of queens.
Moon Unit lands with a
Zappa on Pluto.
Yoda on Saturn
plays steel guitar.
Moses rides in on a
doggone quasar.
Captain Trips sleeps
by a medicine jar.
Sirius B has
something for me.
Hot Nibiru babes try
to make my dream.
Don’t greet me furiously.
I’ll drop you like a comet
heading to the east.
Exit—the transitive nightfall
of diamonds.

You are the 'North America' nebula
                       in all your splendor and colors
I am the remains of a supernova,
                        even NASA has long discarded,
exploded spectacularly-ancient Chinese recorded-
                         yet still alive, for you to admire!
wearily I view the star forming clouds
                         chomping through the cosmos,
enchanting still, I guess, I am, for a swirling landscape of stars
                         like you to profess your love;
I am overwhelmed, but this absurd drama
                         will eventually plunge us in to dark holes.
My darling, the cosmic dance has no rules;
                        pain in murky regions of star formation,
iridescent display of dead stars seeming to remain ever,
                        love, loss, collision, birth or rebirth
no apparent reason for anything, being and nothingness
           too are kaleidoscopic, just creations of auto suggestion.

We are dancing on the Rings of Saturn
Riding high on a glistening Comet
Then I reach up to gather Stardust
And sprinkle it on your Astral golden hair

Hold your hand as we are crossing Moonbeams
On our way to bask in the heat of a White Sun
Dining at the restaurant in the Milky Way
Then we enjoy a kiss under the Asteroid Belt

Your finger points up at the Shooting Stars
Your eyes shine brighter than any Nova Light
And with the magic in all of Cosmic Space
I want to stay here with you, my love, in our little World

A bedspread on which bold, red and blue
esoteric, Tantric, motifs embrace
copulating triangles, the ideogram of cosmos
batik printed in vermilion on it's center
is spread, right there on the play-field of cupid
where the confluence is to happen,
a transmitting point of fecund energies to infinity,
a point on the spring board to transcendence

Beloved, here in the holy fire, receive in ecstasy,
the sacrificial offering I bring from the
incessant Ganga of my lineage,

Shakti and Shiva come in for divine union,
together here on the mark beyond time and space.
right in the center is "THE BINDU" the mystical point
both culmination and beginning of the 'beyond'
passage from here  to timelessness of cosmos, we invoke.

Here Shakti is holy fire leaping up for Shiva's offering,
sublimated they fuse, may that be the seed for karmas lumenant.

I am not the author of my thoughts nor am I the poet whose poems you read.
I am only a vessel through which life exists; a witless witness of what befalls this body and mind.
Please excuse my false pride,
Forgive me my claims of titles and names.
I am merely the ghost in the machine within which I experience taste, touch, sight, smell and the chaos of clarity of mind.  
I once knew with the certainty of the lost that I was the master of this universe,
Now I bow my head in pious recognition of defeated acceptance. Life is not to be lived,
Life is to be survived.
Free will is a conception of man's need and desire for order in a land where particles too small to be seen or felt rule with the supremacy of god.
We are nothing more than fish in the sea unaware of the ebbs and flows of the ocean around us in response to a moon we cannot even conceptualize.
There is peace in that thought;
If you can accept your insignificance you will realize how little that lost love matters for what is love but a micro atomic reaction to a cosmic event that happened light years from earth,
In which you were the victim of a joke you can't even understand.

Why is it that so many people seem to just exist? They neither progress nor regress, and their place in the universal order seems completely neutral.
Some may even say they're obsolete.