Posted in Philosophy

Lover’s game

oh! this engineering, that of damsel divine
and these a few shadows of the day when the lover does
touch with designer’s knowledge,
the one whom he loves,
and those flaming desires of yours
and let this happy heart have a love game
like a happy breeze blowing
who wretched says love is not bodily.
God is an architect of repute!

Posted in Philosophy

Love bet

wish from the bottom of heart
and the world comes down to running
alas! the rosebud is in the circulation of fire
I am a street guy established as if a broken mirror
but live leisure living and why waste the love bet

Posted in Philosophy

The heart’s game

Lying on the earth’s famed skin

My heart could hardly listen to the whispering wind

the blood running in veins did the daily grind

and for that lamentation in the heart,

on the slabs of snow, played its Halloween part

On Othello’s behest tricked the wicked witch

dressed in rags sang the song for sorrow’s lark

morning comes sneakily, and it’s all the dark

Lying on the earth’s famed skin

My heart could hardly listen to the whispering wind

Posted in Philosophy

The three monkeys boating

Three monkeys boating in the river, go yonder

and what could a man sitting at the shore wonder

there’s a reason for every chill of the weather that would beat

the hell out of the growing heaven neat

and the monkeys were in limbo

and boated till the end of the shore akimbo

, and they say shores never end, only the journeys!

Posted in Philosophy

God in Shimla

There was a hunting tide to bring back the night

and God was in Shimla tonight

lighting the mounts to a point of looney sight

and the zanny caught the gulf fish in his breath

and told the God where blows the jelly fish myth

and He blew the copper tinged coins in the langing sith.

Posted in Philosophy

The monster and archangel

I know not a man not been fooled by cupid’s arm at length

and not a woman who has not been hit by cupid’s arrow with strength

the drunk monster seemed lost at distance while a dog straddled behind

and with a huge thud and sweep of his feet he walked alone

and didn’t care a bit for the hour and its engulfing rhyme

and he rested in the bar open at the eleventh hour staring at dusk

he stepped forth just for the rumored pillorying of fun by chance

no chance is without a betoken of time and

no time without a stamp of space and mime

he needed respite from love and his archangel lover

he rested and scoffed a chicken breast while

sending for more beer in the same urn that

he had brought with himself to drink turn by turn

And then the angel spoke, bring to me that sip

bring to me with a flick of hip

that goring thing in the urn that you have lipped

he lurched and opened his arms stretched to her

take my life for I am a swine who know not the inkling of love

and cannot bear the tinkling of it in the head, end the time!

Posted in Philosophy

The child theology

My heart is in pecuniary

there can’t be written love on the sand

for the heart shall want all the land of beeches,

let alone marriage with the wood

he is silent who has a speech on the folding tongue

and the world is not quite there yet

so whom shall I call the saint?

between the end and the endless

lives the damn pearl of wisdom

and who shall go there?