Good morning

Good morning

Good morning, says the ball of clouds

In the sky,

Ready to play with my

Gloomy groggy self;

It knows I am not ready,

Doesn’t ask, no judgements,

It goes with the other living creatures

Chirp, chirp, mew, mew, bhow, bhow

They start playing on the field…

The wind blows the whistle

Everyone’s at the centre,

Running forward and backward

Everyone’s a stopper

Throwing in and out

The white ball…

In a while

The cloud falls

Everyone drenched,

Shouts, Goal, goal, goal!

I decide to play tomorrow,

Catch the moment

When the ball re-appears and invites

Me with a good morning!

09 July 2014

Centre

Centre

At the centre…

The elements are held

Tight stable

So muscles of the mind roam free.

In this freedom, the wits have

Come far, far away from the mean…

Intelligence flies, beholds

Debris of lies,

Turns the meaningful into meaningless,

The stable into fragile,

The depth into shallow…

But the kite has not forgotten still

To screech the name,

In the midst of a craquement;

It suddenly feels to upend,

Au secours!

It squeals,

But alas, it uses acuity.

                                                                       

No exit from freedom,

The so-called found-in-the-lexicon

Liberty, out of sync

With the centre…

09 July 2014

Little drops

Little drops

Little drops have disappeared in the silvery light,

The moon has washed them dry.

They were formed with tales of times,

Little fingers have turned old.

Not able to jog with the nib on pages,

The pencil that would turn unsurely making faces,

Turned into a tree with stories hanging in branches

With nests of fruits that sleep and wake up

With the stars;

Forgotten appearances now hiding brown inside,

The albums arranged in order,

And yet the mind sees through the time,

When the light enters into those corpses

Through the garden, and touches the space,

It is ready again to reel down those delightful drops of moments.

01 July 2014

Storm

Storm

It has come again to plunder,

To clear away the dust of time;

It trespasses without prosecution,

Steals everything that hides like a crime;

A yearly tourist blinded by emotion,

I treasure my mind,

My thoughts,

How safe I think are they,

I chain them now with the storm,

For that’s the safest way.

01 July 2014

breath

So what is this, this breath?

It has helped me live, grow

I did nothing.

Blood flesh height weight

All formed effortlessly with the guest

Coming in going out,

I see some airtight food there on the shelf

Fresh as mommies!

So what is this, this breath?

The outsider takes me slowly to death

Air intrudes in moments immeasurable in me despite me.

Balances life and death,

I have inertia so to fight to defend,

To offend to maintain my stance dignity,

Grace and position,

Cause it’s healing and killing in the same stretch!

So what is this, this breath?

Like an invisible invincible paranoid

It comes and goes.

Creation and destruction at one go.

I have all the reasons to live,

In the way it is…

With the constant conscious companion!

Who teaches me to live in the moment!

I won’t give in till my guru gives up,

But I’d have this question still in me,

Thrown up in the air,

Be it fair unfair,

So what is this, this breath?

I am

i am

I have the power in me

To be bound by my own ecstasy

I have the power in me

To be chained by my own sympathy

I have the power in me

To create my friends enemy

Deliver my thoughts thinking waste

From works that only cut and paste

Focus at the point without haste

I am in all my universe

Floating with it I traverse,

With its rise with its fall

Tiny puny little small and tall

Steady unmoved with every little bit

I am in it, for it, and I am always with it

I am in every single all

27 June 2014

Hidden clarity

Hidden clarity

The moon,

Hiding in broad daylight;

The city,

Inside the clouds;

The sun,

Keeps the world in the dark;

Relatives,

Inside death;

All outside the purview,

To emerge in the mind

25 June 2014

mess

mess

Complete mess

No one works

No one

Stars, brooks, mountains smile at the working-ness

Winds are perpetually playing

Flirting with the livings

No seriousness

Everything that is so much in abundance

Is on a sabbatical leave

Learning how not to work,

How will the world survive if it’s only rolling and

Giggling without trace!

25 June 2014

Poverty

Poverty

Blades of grass,

Never been able to count

The leaves in shrubs or from hanging ivy,

Fruits effortless of plenitude,

Yet, amidst all of this,

Poverty doesn’t count.

24 June 2014

Margin

Margin

Sand and the sea,

Pushing an elastic margin, bit by bit,

Territory is marked… for ages now

Different colours fight,

The outside bleeds into edgy foams,

The inside is colourless and hollow.

24 June 2014