puerile ennui

no one understands love
maybe they do, the ennui of
"before I die" compels that need
propelling to fall in that white light

I want the storms to strike me
as to be numb in my lonely coat
in my head I paint pictures of distant hills
before I walk back on the sidewalks

"In that glass box, why have you kept me displayed?"

escalating

photo credits: reymundo

I escalate to the top
almost touching the sky
the eerie blue light
hurl me into mystical place

my palm touch palpable vacuum
in those steps,
I spin like a top
in the holed ground

endlessly waiting for your smile
in the deep green eyes
when it finally shows
I become a beautiful chrysalis
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

cloaked mask

it happened again. yet again.
penny dropped
i did not see it

i had left that ending hanging
even though it jiggled to the extreme end
i ignored the title early on

trying to plant seeds
you pulled those out like weeds
you hid me from the earth

i thought it was to protect me
i did not see that my invisibility
gave you that escape

i was only wrapped in the quality of that cloak

while you danced gleefully in the safety of several

"build a cenotaph for me, and be more joyous"


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


For a few weeks now I struggle to write. I am unable to pen longer verses, even short ones are not coming. I am not even making rounds to read your poetry. That is another downside. Hope I get back to writing soon. When muse dies, I feel half dead. Any poet/writer can relate to that state.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Confetti of time

photographer Rosie Hardy

a phantom of myself
blowing away cobwebs of time
I ponder in  midst of confetti
scattered by unknown forces
I'm not getting any younger

I am lost in 14-inch TV

un-click it

I am just a container
of your fuddled thoughts
those inane ideas
out of gravitation poses
I try to be as patient as I can
and smiles in flashes
in the dark
in the day light I hide in surroundings
unknown objects interest me most
or the expression of the young
or even the old, guileless those are
that bring me serenity
When my shutter closes,
I trap the world in
sealing in fate

"why don't you tell me 
who will let out my trapped images
the ones which don't see the light ever-
you ought to put a button
captioned indecisive option on the top
and let me, the camera, speak?"

walk the past

Photo credit: Neil Alexander

a broken past lies in the ruins
still we hold on to it
clutch it like a baby does with a toy
ghost of our memories
travels through the secret passages
with no respect for future
why not demolish the palace
and let the creatures of the deep dark forest take over?

but the world is too busy destroying mankind

scrolled

rough notes
fragment of snatched words
unspoken yet loud
I find on that bench
in a hollow pipe
you left that scroll aeons ago
and the sign read thus

silence

gravitational pull

"I want to sizzle with you in the beach"
when I uttered those words-
you turned towards me,
those glorious eyes examined me

"then I disappeared into a crater"

you gotta be here, you gotta be there

sweet child o' mine
why do I see you in the streets
lost in the abyss

sweet child o' mine
why do I see you in that roadside
my mind split so wide?

sweet child o' mine
why do I see you in that corner
reading a tattered copy of Homer

sweet child o' mine
why don't I see you anywhere
you gotta be here, you gotta be there

sweet child o' mine
why do I see you on the roof-
of your existence, I had no proof


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sweet Child o' Mine is the third single by American rock band Guns N' Roses, and the third from their 1987 debut studio album, Appetite for Destruction. It remains one of my favourite songs, of all time. 

don Juan goes psychedelic

is that all there is-
left of your psychedelic underwear?
it did help in taking my mind off
from the seven deadly sins
finally when I see you give those up-
dear, dear John, 
I am no longer interested in you
hope you quench your thirst
by visions of the future
lolling in the company of
saints, monks, and meditation

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had fun writing this. I simply let go of myself and ended up with a poem which might not make much sense. But so what?