Writing into blankness

I wish I could send

you a blank paper

without a drop of ink

and you could interpret
instantly, my feelings.

O words

I'm guilty

of molesting you

I have sheltered you,

never lived with you;
in all the fibs and fables
you were the untouchables.

For I have always hidden some words
never allowed them to surface
lest they brutally undress
me, my world
I try now to write on your mind

without the fluid
most of the times
they’d be shy and would cower
at other times
they’d remain as it were
pure, with power.

I now wipe with care the liquid

from those tearing leaves

transcend the innocent thought

that doesn't block, doesn’t blot

but which in me blankly lives.

My home

My home
has become unbearable
words, full of words
lifeless words
they don’t carry any feeling
or have I become too old
that I should leave
and rebuild my own.

Since when did my abode
become so cold
no room for togetherness
no space for friendship
housing jealousy, hatred
competition, in a jungle of gadgets
mindless hands and feet have frozen
all organs lazy, slumber
in figures and numbers
counting days.

Words, words, only words
no warmth
travelling inside the mind
like worms
plastic wings of nightingales
agonizing odor of flowers
roses and blue pimpernels
in tired, tried and tied-up gardens
that yearn to be lost in the forests.

Artificial has the most troubling start
it’s ‘art’ with which the world
is losing its heart
unable to breathe, rest or roam.

Yet with hope,
we built this home
to live
it is hard to believe
from whose confines
now, I wish to leave.

Aimless

Running on my track
of life, I cannot relax
looking left and right
without mercy and grace
I can hardly lose sight
have to anyhow win the game.

To be first in the race

is my only aim

eyeing others, a self-defeating trait

prevents one from thinking, looking straight
I lose and blame my own performance.

Out of sight

It's strange we cannot see

our inside hides from glare

though helping us sound and square
enabling us to survive and be.

Organs singing without pause

without any apparent cause;
pumping in the green room
making us up, letting us groom.

The one gift it requires

to build the body, is air

perpetually beyond sight

yet present everywhere

day and night.

Way to go

As long as there’s sunshine
the star rising, setting on sides
as long as there’s blood and air
running into the veins, energizing my organs
I will not succumb to the liar
let the goon come with its guns.

As long as there’s moon in the sky
its light touching my eyes
as long as there’s hope in the heart
healing me, asking to restart
my body will not yield
and abandon the field.

As long as rainbow has its hues
dawn delivers dews
as long as horizons lie on the planes
clouds kiss the mighty mountains
waves emerge from the bed of the seas
my seat will not stop, it’ll continue to beat.

Would never leave the stage
but fight with the Sage
whatever be my age.
I’d live every breath
from nature derive strength
to wrestle with my death.

In the middle of kindness

In the middle of kindness
don’t know how
I became homeless
what I see now
is suddenly so ruthless.

O mom, your spouse
not my father anymore
O papa, in your house
I see another lady galore.

I don’t believe
how long it is taking me
to accept you have one life to live
as far as I can see
you are so gentle and kind
to regard me still as your child.

Old style

I am a mediocre writer
going round and round
my lines imperfect sing
determined to bring
the sky to the ground
the air to feel a lot lighter.

I am a mediocre writer
talking to the stars
my lines not so deft tell
stories of heaven, not hell
in the middle of worrying wars
that made the stage so somber.

I am a mediocre writer
floating light and sound
yet the lines do not catch
the eyes of the unmatched
a bard judged old, unbound
with improper sense of humor.

I am a mediocre writer
going round and round
I still whistle and whisper
about peace our true nature
my thoughts will heal, not hound
the hearts of my readers.

Made for each other

Days and nights
so separate
yet desperately together;
Clouds and waves
so separate
yet are in it together.

Success and failure
winning and losing
so visibly different
yet are knit together;
Life and death
so separate
yet desperately together.

Journey and destination
different
but made for each other.

fine

i am not fine
i am fine with it


je ne me sens pas bien
je me sens bien avec cela

Body-buddy

Your body your buddy

a true friend

the only throne

you can call your own

what you think and eat

will make the seat

truly a safe haven.