To name a few…

Eight paragraphs beyond
Upon a moonlit night
Dawns fresh light of trust
To make believe eyes as just
Then rose warmth somewhere
To air lit as fire remain
Always receding escaping breaths
Then thought must’ve been room better
For spaces divided, charter first
But fortune! O sodden!
The air to bring me life
Unasked, yet granted
Flourishes and blooms
From forests to oceans
All brilliant and diverse.
Happiest then we still hold
Possible worlds we negate
Through the window every time
A room of thought
And the air of life
Holding hands in narrow lanes
Where spirits condense
Circle around in blue and pale
Stars silver shine among
Hair and hair of endless decay
Gentle greens behind shy
As heavens perfume cry
For the air had to leave
Cast somehow
Light on departed coal…





Dark is sooth, the space elude,
Forlorn in darkness I see
Pictures filmed in light,
When upon a mood so fixed,
That word each the air kiss,
And spaces the circle knit,
In ink had seen pitches black
Out whiter presence feed
To life a breath complete.

Hills here are so perfumed,
That a master whom words assume,
Nostalgic woods in fire groom,
Rising soot, the alter damp,
Blackened mists, the monsoon camp.

Reeks of murky confessions,
This ashy rain of day and night,
For once had the Lord so spelt,
Men in their matters filthy
And Universe in her keep,
Fiery darkness in his eyes seep.

Streets in presence shriek,
Same old smoke, mouthful treats,
The master and the Lord so greet.

Mine but another incense
Country woods and open skies,
Balm, the moon shadowed dark,
Some soothing pangs of the night.
Immersed in shades so serene,
Slumbers must heavily dream
The harmonies that openly scream,
Of spectacles in carnal cavities,
And lo! We’re drenched in charities.

Fixed! I am to you,
Of all matters untrue,
For lone in darkness we see,
Our might unto light.



Hasty millennium branches,
Momentous shining lay finery,
Towering echoes numb,
Mists play and rainbows drenched,
In clouds full of sadness,
Behind the eye,
Oozed to rain,
Used to bleed,
Companies of my treasurous run…

Gust, to my utter lust,
Profoundly as just,
Much like a wonder again,
Casting and deforming,
Icy, the slayed,
And flakes soft, the nibble,
Cats and mice,
Dogs and dollars,
Joining the parade,
I planned to read,
A sentence of whimsical joy,
Perhaps the admirable beauty,
Broken and destroyed,
My wheel in narrow lane,
Walking tensed,
Streets empty, cold men,
Hotter women and the rest,
Disgustipated, torn,
Broken, I close my eyes!

Confronted on a weekly ling,
Wander to the sing,
Perfumed glory,
Tweaked injuries,
And the third one,
Mystical refineries,
The oil’s my soul,
Lamb the body,
Burn now, burn quick,
For the fire I longed to see, is me!

Where’s your magic now?
Dead already?
I see, you have a word,
I have the cord,
Stung in completeness,
Nurtured in boils,
Fiery eyes,
Endless ties,
But See the burn,
The apt churn!
Today and always,
Hence, your creations,
Discarded my legions.
It burns, you see it shine,
The son walks home,
Ample a day in darkness,
For your soul seek,
Then let it be the trust,
Until I see you rust!