Unknown friend

On the bus was a lady seated beside me

Her skin was sinking soft I felt,
                                             didn't dare to see.

She was talking on her cell with someone off and on,

To whom, of what, I didn't want to know and hear,

My stop, I thought would better not be gone

With her voice so touching, skin so near.

I saw her from the corner of my eyes,

Her hair, falling at ease, on my conscious stiffened thighs

Her elbow, I saw, was placed inside, that touched my shirt

So pleased,

She looked outside, the time it seemed has got

Us ceased.

Sitting close, no one knows, and no one even talks

She’s cool, am sure has similar pleasing thoughts.

I was dignified, politely distanced, as far as I could be

To respect the space in which, she came so close to me.

Everyday our journey begins and so does it end,

On the bus we spend some time

With a silent unknown friend.

when

when my eyes meet your eyes
          they are gone          
when my thoughts unite with your thoughts
          a meaning is born      
when my form appears in your form
          words disappear                
when my world enters your world
           they surface                  
           without pride,                
           without fear.                  

Convoluted

managing the managed
is imaging the damaged
rigid through ages
deranged the sages
ragged through the edges
injured the pledges 
dragged those in rage
arranged those in danger
all gypsy genders... ... when
all of a sudden there's one little pigeon
hiding in an un-judged page
like a poem in a cage
flies over the bridges
cries to the change
time to manage who manage
merge the energy of the managed
with those who manage 

Out of sight

I don’t see the birds,

For me, the tree chirps.

The wind in the air I don’t see,

The garden dances in rhythm for me.

Don’t see the heats that drain

Those clouds for me give drops of rain.

I don’t see what makes me grow,

It’s there perhaps for me to know!

I don’t see the hidden birds,

For me, it is the Tree that chirps.

defeat

My life is dead; dull, dim monotonous in its repetition.

Every minute and hour spent, to second without option.

From the time I wake up to the time I sleep,

Rigorous, onerous routine takes me on its grip.

I talk and walk, eat and greet, work and rarely play,

Sameness orders justice, to an object of clay.

I see me dead, sung and read in what I do repeat

Life, like this is meaningless, with so much of defeat.

I look outside without pride to find a falling deed,

Seed which made the leaf in time, to free it back as another seed!

Days and nights, weeks and years, seasons come and go,

Flowers and fruits grow the roots without ever feeling low!

I looked at me deep inside, and heavens what I found,

Organs singing do, re, me without making a tired sound!

A voice within said to me, you've just made a proud defeat,

Life's alive pounding still because of what you always repeat.

Being

Lazy lake. Indolent ease.

Chirping birds. Busy breeze.

Serene sky. Grasses lie.

Soothing sound. Low or high.

Moving Moon. Stable Sun.

Begin and end. Work is done.

Beings all. Fall and rise.

Easy eyes. No surprise.

Normal

Ha…   Hanging hammer of a word,

That orders in its spree,

Neither forward, nor backward

Little awkward is the plea.

I choose to be my way,

Have skins by my side,

Huh! The word pumps away

The meaning it can’t hide.

Let the hearse fly or crawl,

Rehearsing many times,

But we’re off its wall

Not listen to its rhymes.

ha!

Our word in silence,

Has its own order too,

Has rules to sing of sense,
Is enorm to listen to!

Armed dream

I have an armed dream inside me 
To throw up as fruit, in the branch of a tree.  

There is a cloud, thick inside my heart 
Ready to rain when it knows the art.  

Drowned in the silence of bliss and rhyme
Choice afloats, sounds it is time.  

Silly things

"Oh dear God 
Help us to be good, 
In the games we play 
Or the work we do. 

Bless us everyone 
Singing here to Thee 
God whose name is love, 
Loving may we be." 



Used to sing this song in school 
With attention and devotion to their full. 
Now cannot sing it with grace. 
Every line seems so out of place. 
Doesn't matter what the poem sings 
Do not bother what the lines say, 
The tired world we see today, 
Has stopped to ponder on silly things.  

Color blind

Black sheep, black cat, painting you black, dark spot...
We violate you, more often than not,
Don’t cease to tease you black and blue without a clue
With images horrid that cloud and clot;
I wonder how the color which takes us in
Remained an outcast, yet peaceful and stable within.
At night when it’s dark when borders blend,
Mountains and rivers, rich and poor sleeping just the same;
You blind us so we cannot fight,
Wait until appears the light
To show our teeth and worth, without shame.

Gray areas, gray hair, we say it is so dull and dead
With the gray we have inside our head!
And the gray that flows through the hollow pipe,
Helps the living dead to come alive,
When they paint the clouds that reign delight
Gray is born out in the dawn,
Black unites with the perfect white.

The truth let’s get it a little straight,
Clearly we’re not so correct
Gray is life and unity
Black absolves, binds all – is peace, our destiny.

The beat of life

I was walking alone by the beach,

To go until where I didn’t know;

Took their steps my silent feet,

From the drowning, safe and stable sand;

The waves halted to a shouting screech.

On the barren land,

A goal in mind didn’t really grow,

The shell went on with a steady beat.

Going at ease with life like this,
It is it has to know the bliss.