The Night revisited

That night has come again,

That curtain has the night wrapped up,

And those shy eyes contained everything,

When the day broke the cuckoo of heart burst weeping,

Singing the tale of separation to the prophet of the sun

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Love Act

The life is a morph of doubt and hope

To do the love act in doubt is to have hope for time to come

In this melody is a fame of silent ghost yet clamouring for both

doubt and the doubtless sky.

The essence of man

I would recompense every penny for thy offence

of belittling God to mere image of the unknown

what is known is the futile product of carnal act

To satisfy the desire to be able to comprehend the

works of God hidden in the expression of nature

Which has forsaken all that was not needed and

adopted what the man deemed to be his essence

The essence of man is thus educated stem from

the tree of knowledge that bears fruits in abundance

The cosmos and its power

If I could set the heavens, I would set the guitar

If I could love the stars, I would love the sitar

what could be the end of the universe but the music

of the spheres interleaved with the rhapsodies of  war

with itself and in the eyes of the storms, I could love you more

with my bestowed heart. Let’s sing the song for cosmos with forlorn power

Hands of time

The hands of time flows silently though

making the cursory move to chime like dove

and then wake up the boulders of ether above

-an imaginary solitude to stay alone and suave

in the picture perfect to say still for a friend or foe

And time does not wait for your hands to show

signs of life, grace or be a doe.

 

 

Busy day

The best move is to keep silent

how to do the damn things?

To play the chess is to kill the boss

 

Strains my eyes and the brain to muffle

through the envelope, looking for a love pic

only to find a torn letter but perfumed

 

Nonetheless God is great to all those who seek Him

to the others He is the dead end of the materialism

He cannot even look for himself in this ideal world

 

Exist with the panache of a cowboy

stymie down the chessboard with a mock

of a lover lost in the world on a busy day!

 

Who is busy?

A bee or a lion

a lover indeed !

The Purple You

The rain dances too

upon the lashes of you

I see the stream of love

falling drop by drop

on the orbs of yours

The purple hue of hair

and the purple smile

all do the charisma

like the seasons

all because of you

I happen to chance

upon the glimpse of youth

when I was younger with you

and you said waiting is like hunting

the sooner you kill the prey

the sooner its all over the play