it’s a want to own but
you are not mine to own

neither is anything else that speaks
in sacred codes

what the moon tells me comes from within
but it is not mine

what belongs to the world’s heart cannot be owned

Common people called him stingy
And with his funds he was.
But he was parsimonious
In areas that they never saw.

                Epitaph
True, he never spent a dime
If he could get it free.
He never wasted any time
That anyone could see.

He didn’t have much love to give
And wanted no love back
He had a certain way to live
Laid out in white and black.

He didn’t give and didn’t take.
He had no use for friends.
He died alone and that’s the way
This kind of story ends
                      ljm

The last time I loved
(So, so,
So long ago)

Fruit spilled itself
In the garden

And insects sang
And rejoiced
In the split flesh

And the soil leapt
With joy
And sprouted
Tiny seedlings.

The last time
I loved

Her womb welcomed
Seed and cried
In happiness
And fecund abundance.

But the last time was
So,so
So long ago

It's the beginning of summer
And with it the beginning of many new memories and experiences
Winter has had its share of those
But they are dead and buried now
Some were beautiful...
Some grotesque....
Spring was pretty quiet and lowkey
I'm hoping monsoon really gets the ball rolling...
Last year a bit of a lull as compared to the year before..
I'm hoping this year(if I can make it till the end)..gives me a surplus..
Perhaps a change of relationship status
Or may be a promotion at work
Or it could be good health
Or just freaking peace of mind... That'll do just fine...