dichotomy

reflection is scared of light...

if the pencil dies, it will expire with it

if the stream bides, the specter will lose the credit

it is tense

for as long as it stays

for the crown of the knight

Partner

Death has come at last.

I am on my bed

going back and back

turning the pages, trying to search

for the space where feelings fell

in place, where time stopped,

but I was slipping on the surface

when I thought fearfully of death.

I looked out of the window

nothing has stopped, nothing changed

save the body that held me so long,

and brought me finally to my friend.

I am meeting my lover

shy, hesitant as ever,

no I welcome you

though I know

I will never be done

I was always looking for you,

in the meaning of life I was missing you too.

Hi there

From the mountain top

you were showing us your tricks.

The world is tied with a wire

from one end to the distant other,

connected with ease, without bricks.

Your vision is high, your mission and goals

foolproof with gumption, without loopholes,

technically the world is a global village

hearts in us are still heavy in the cage.

From the cliff you have forgotten to climb down

you need a hand to keep your feet on the ground.

Monopoly

Ten million ways ― you

lead the dazzling fate.

Engaging the glamorous

feeling overshadowing

failing white policies.

What matters most,

is the fun, along the sun.

Moon has no place.

But you have this craze

that you will say and you will stay.

You have managed to scare

the world, which is chasing the eagle

because you told in your convincing speech

that the bird has fled with its eyes

poor world cannot see it can see

it fails a myriad times, it tries.

It is chasing with a rod you sold as a wand

ten thousand wails with yelling hands.

I am waiting behind a tree, beside the bank

of a crying river bleeding for some silver touch.

The malady

A tonsured garden, a deforested place;

in the desert, an oasis still tolerates the sun

heat is reining in every life,

there is no space for anything other than sunshine.

Such kindness of light that burns the impulse

of every kind is the cruelest thing that needs to be deserted.

But every being there has forgotten the art of leaving

it is looked upon as deceitful…

fearful of criticism, the remaining ones are condemned to stay

to be charred to death with the burden of white-hot values,

it is staging onlookers as actors

killing the garden’s character in every minute of the day

that promises no evenings, no nights.

The moon has left the place for good,

there is no room for darkness.

The generosity of the sizzling sun is slowly spreading

its wings all over…golden numbness for sure

has ruined the balance of the Silver Star, beyond cure.