Little winery loved

I lost the pain in loving you, the pain for life

brought to the door the wine of strife

to make the brilliant radiance of the moon

a rich dividend thought of you with grapes

as chaste as your wrist holding the bottle tight

while the other wrist fidgeting about your tresses done fine

I have a deep thought about amorous delight

If I taste thee wine I would be a kaput and if not

I would be a pariah in my own home tonight.


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The snowman

In the middle of the night, it lounged under the twig of the tree

the snowman plumed with the erstwhile desire to talk

to man in reigning the world with the snow fed shape

that it had turned out into, other men much viler than

the dogs that ravaged the fields at night, drank whiskey

and cheered the snow man made out of yellow snow

there was a prison break and the robbers discovered

it was the snow man that could rob the world off art imitation

A Natural thought

The nature is a bounty boundless of air, sea and water

the cosmos in frigid space is the entity that is ours

Existence exists in bob fish, or a log fowl or an animal on foot

And we the same star stuff draw pebbles  in the holes of time

breathing every moment and living dead corpse with silence within

We cope the matrix of religion as false as the opined thought

of gravity based on opium, the more you have, the more you are rooted


A Night Out

Gossiping into the midnight,

later coffee roasted to a white gleam

and had but with loafing near the woods

the darkness is dampening by the flames of the campfire

the stalking night never stops stalking, blame the sun?

for infernal fire about 8 minutes away from the earth

At last the sun rose and the foggy delight of winter

eloped into a new born day and her soft hands mellowed

with the last sip of the coffee, rest the night is over

and the aroma dies a hard at the scent of the woods

the last ounce of the blood steeped in coffee

and mixed with the scent of your forlorn hair

jump over a blue shift of the moon in your eyes

and another sip of love would drown the hearty

into a whirlpool of space and time curved over the horizon

you are near then ever but the faint hope never dies not

even the whirlwind of death that is cast as lizard on your wall




Multiverse in Kalidasa

Of all the goodies drawn from the silk route, poetics are the best

The tinged God with a flame’s glow avows to lady love, the world’s a nest

in which lives the partridge covey like men and women

all lost on the way to Multiverse, by the wick of the candle the fire is drawn

into manifold colored flame that is a spark for life

lit it ! lit it! you need to see the pavement you walk upon said the teacher

and we young and habitual wait for the poet Kalidasa to reveal the lady on the path

A currying dream

A refined dream of Freud making hair black again

of the patients with the gray hair

and the daughter licking the foot-tips of Ganges

on the narrow stairs leading to the holy-dip

Then rose the demon favoring a currying behavior

with the God who never shrugged anything till the bells rang

and the crowd dispersed to meet again on the sands

No one had a muttering of blue shadows eloping in darkness

the nun kept the words of the God to herself, Thou shall be

a partridge and an adulteress  with an A

The duress sank under the weight of a probation officer

who granted mercy in the hell to the clown

having imitated like God with a candle on his head

Till the sparrows eloped forever hearing the mobile tone

Hola! Kuiper Cafe

 On this day I see you eye to eye

hardly missing a quiver of an eyelid

till I muster and gather the air around you

to Hola the salutation minced as a paramour

of lost things, things lost in the Kuiper belt

space and time as frigid as paper boats

on a shoestring water brought from the Alpines

and the gala of a fest open to women of the city

and you acknowledge a wink of an eyelid,

saying the night was as sleepless as the day

And on this day I see you eye to eye,

and you set on sails the wintry desire of a gin

with tonic, we gather nothing but yesterday in our talk

and while away the time in the Cafe

as if born on a frigid moon like ours- the Titian.