Tuesday, July 12, 2016


Benches in the park speak to me the stories of the night,
The rumbling of the leaves pull the chords smelling of the flights,
Prized and possessed among the soothing sunlight of the yesteryears,
Laughing endlessly remembering the flickering yet futile sought off fears,

Running to catch the left overs of the hidden meanings,
Paying to play the poster on the wall to feel the shenanigans,
Losing all closely knit fears between the dots covering all the spots,
Staring blindly into the approaching voice, blinded by the fastening thoughts,

Entering the passage with the strength to catch the last air,
Rigged and weak the act itself was the demise of his lost flair,
Thud, and the scratches, left in the light, obsessed in the dark,
Rolling in the way, separated from the rest, resting under the stony bark,

Turn and burn, there is nothing left to pay for the fun,
All that was to be, that is, to craft in the was, is to run,
Patiently growing. waiting for the end to come, to the obvious truth,
It had to leave the bosom, one day finally, to be called, fruit!

Thursday, June 16, 2016

Scrambled Love

Yet another day to mark the glorified end, shining,
The beginning in the start had its own charm, captivating,
So matching the energy of the self lived up to the charm,
Wonder ever nothing could happen do any harm,

Cradling inside out of the narrow hole,
Blocking through the windows there are souls whole,
For that withering within the leaves are yet to be blown,
So what, dance, dance all the way to the corners unknown

And then when she raises the head above out of the glass she held,
The air bent to the shiniest glow captured raisins in the bend,
Dimensions of the afterglow captured inside the smile,
Rising slowly with her mist and the hidden cries,

The rapture and the true spirit of the lost river,
I ran to her to carry the smile she had kept in her bosom,
It was the nocturnal moment of the divine pacifications,
Covered in so many yet so faked love emotions.

Its the dust that covers the smile that was long last amidst the crude memories.

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Dry Pulp

Marred by the expectations of the early trailer,
Picture that seemed so soft and free was not so appealing,
Yet when running to the hill to catch the glimpse of the sun,
You try so hard to squeeze every bit the hard earned fun,

Overpowering and similarly captivating the calling,
Run through to the maze by the that flawless upbringing,
No matter how strong the fragrance of the bite was,
It was covered in the dead beat of the heavy smile,

Uptight and just about to feel the way right,
Way to put forward in my senses was everytime a new fight,
Figurines and depictions of the thought of world justified,
It was not the finishing touch not so exemplified,

All about the presence and all about the being you,
Excitement and anger turning the red in the blue,
Coupled into the palette with many thoughts,
Strike the hammer before its too late to die in the drought.

Measured in Love

Countering the glooming happiness over the fretted clouds,
Undermining in the deep shadows are left within the peddling shrouds,
Uproarious and unsettling thoughts jumped all around the moat,
Measured in units of love to draw the ladder from her boat.

Richness in the thick skin to pierce within the smile,
Following the racing air out of words was becoming agile,
A merciful glance and the soft touch compensated the burden,
It was much more than to it than to the sought of hurdle,

Hoping to set the pace right, again, only not to nauseate this time,
Chaos was not an option, not loving her was the biggest crime,
Clamped back to how perfect it was or  rather how it seemed,
It was always there for I was blind to see how it appealed,

How it begins, and blossoms in to the sweet bosom of the smiles,
Without any fret, It was the same love ready for the miles,
It was the gold I struck within the mines full of dirt,
Just the way to feel every day as a new birth.

Scarlet Massacre

Hand me to the laid graves,
Lie beside me till I reach to the closure,
Throw behind the left overs of the moments,
The wondered melodies so soft are so penchant,

Displacing the water filled with all the weight of doings,
Craving hard to shrug off any chance of wrong upbringings,
Top it up let it spill to the broken stairs,
Ill be watching over the dance through my empty chair,

One to the top and two the bottom of the well,
Touching the ear with warm hands where the thoughts dwell,
Swiped insignificantly the last of the dropped wine of the table,
Horses were massacred happily in the dreamy stable,

Sometimes that left this open in their enclosure,
Waiting to be wrapped in the blanket of guilt with pleasure,
All amazed by the shining red light of the decision,
I am all alone with the broken knife and her precision,

Thursday, January 21, 2016

Surreal Surrender

Got to admit the pony wasn’t small for the fight,
The pants got stuck in the hooves and it wasn’t too tight,
Riding sky high it was the moment for nothing to loose,
Concealing in the shade I was running behind my muse,

High and rise bending the back to the last and to the finish,
Race was just the beginning of the journey, that left the pony astonished,
TO crave for the miles and to let them be,
There was a never ending spirit, was let free,

Miles to cover under the heavy notion of the rest,
Instead of covering the ground movement in to a test,
Head up high in resting in the stars laying awake the grave,
The moment reminded of the patience and the everlasting crave,

To break dawn into million pieces and to resolve the one sitting on the top,
Carrying the shoulders with the fragments to that last stop,
There was a lost admiration of the thoughts of the covered ground,
Symphony and its surreal surrender of that beautiful sound.

Monday, January 18, 2016

Eyes that Lie

For the many strokes raised on the brush,
The wine was so strong to push for the rush,
The knife went to tight to put a fight for the right,
And I want to put of the discontinuation of that tight, the conclusion had its own might. 

Standing in line virtuous of the reality good god bring light on thee,
For eternity cant be staggered to bring light to make us free,
Steeper we dance and plenty we aim to quench the thirst of the love,
It rises above the flames in the bones of contention of the rising dove,

Docked beneath the bosom of your love and the madness,
Human after all which we perceive to the truth and happiness,
Hello, lets dive in the ocean and its pull and rinse our sins,
Wash away to the shore with arms fresh with newly built fins!!!

Breathe within, built the holes in whole to bite the fruit,
Subtle in the growth of the dominant feelings of the budding root,
Its all about the eyes in what you see,
For deep down we dive its life for what we perceive!!

Uphill Love

For if I could just wipe out the frowns you carry,
Burdens of the past that never let your happiness marry,
Selfish may be deemed unjust but the true oneself,
It was called love, clinging to the many masks on your shelf.

Deranged and then arranged are the memories that stay,
Shuffling in between times you become your own prey,
Sheets beneath the tears and the ears lend to the many years,
Deemed untrue to the standing tides waiting for answers

Stepping on the blunt ends of the unknown winds,
Blinded and soaked in the thoughts of the revival,
Stored in between the faint smiles building for your own arrival,
Blow away the thoughts with a new start,

Cradling a way out to the point of no return,
Storming into the clouds unannounced with no discern,
Cliched and rounded the cup was beginning to fill,
She started her fast paced climb up that hill