the indomitable

right in the middle
of howling and wailing,
bloodshed at night
I looked up in the sky
adorned with the stars
a fairytale
the moon looked like
an outdated silver coin
whose head or tail
I couldn't figure,
it appeared nude,
I wasn't distracted
I was counting the stars
the sun, a burnt toast
came up
a spoilsport
I closed my eyes,
and continued 

the return of the frugal

what have we done
to the world
it had lost its strength,
tonsured, butchered,
bombed

sad that the world
had left the world

but there was a time
we'd drink water 
from the stream,
go out to take some
fresh air, sans care
the sky would fall
in love with the earth
without a doubt,
the fire would burn
to heal, the cattle would 
graze on the green

the feet would travel 
all around, as a wanderer,
or a loner in all the places
we don't even dare to
venture anymore

we have made life
difficult for us
very difficult and
complicated

yet we are jutting out
ceaselessly, there is
no contemplation,
no atonement, only glory
for things of which
we need to be ashamed

I am disoriented,
no power to decorate
the verse with chosen
words, the writers of
tomorrow might

when the world would
return to the world

No escape

I closed my eyes
to escape the
horrific realities;
in my dreams,
there was this man
violating his daughter,
cutting his wife
into pieces;

I jumped out of my bed,
didn't dare to drink,
thought the water in
the glass could be red;

The next morning,
I drowned myself
in stories that
painted conceit,
horror, defeat;
I shut down all of
them to open mine;
I could neither
read, nor breathe.

On and off the bed,
I knew I had to live
until I was dead.

I could nevertheless
sense a garden
somewhere, hanging
golden and silver fruits,
I screeched to myself,
'do I have to die to
reach there'
since there was silence
I cried as though I replied,
'it's so unfair, so unfair,
if I hadn't really seen
a splash of pristine
respite, how'd I imagine
it anywhere, it's unfair,
it's so unfair.'

listen

when the rain falls

do not eavesdrop, 

enter the conversation;

when the virus strikes

do not underestimate

its weight and size;

when the stars shine

do not overlook, 

listen to the silence

in passing

life passes,

time passes, 

transient waves

ephemeral clouds

wandering winds

the moving earth

the elusive fire

... 

wisdom is to 

witness and behold, 

ignorance is to 

embrace and hold

the open book

the world, an open book
we are unable to read

the strange time

you can never be
at the wrong place
at the right time,
but you may be
at the right place
at the wrong time

you wait for the door
to open, but when it does
you realize it wasn't ever
closed for any of us

anything that is natural
is strange

out of the box

Throughout my life,
I have learned to build
walls, move and walk
like a flock of dead
thoughts,
now who is asking me
to ponder out of the box

the gate-crasher

the world is bombarded
by the educated wards,
men of letters.
not men of word,
whatever is worth
learning is a gate-crasher 

waking up

I learned a number
of words, I acquired
papers that brought 
me all the accolades,
but nothing could
wake me up from
my slumber until I 
heard a chirping bird
on my window sill 
that brought me the
news of the fresh breeze
from the nearby hills
to nourish the hanging
nests, the roots and the
branches of the trees.