Trapped walk

Toddler steps
Moon drops
Sun spices
Trapped walk
Fear of drop
You sustain
A crawl
Don’t tell me
High energy
Needs a daily encounter
With a water fall
Ferocious yet feeble
Drains and yet charges
Dissolves and yet precipitates
Strange are your remedies
For a fallen soul
Aspire to salvage the distraught
And forgotten geniuses
But without any bonds
Why have you
Chained the desire
Of a falcon
To fly unchained
In the blue sky
Or a lake dry
Midst of a moist eye
Midst of A moist eye

A small mattress for you

Don’t lock me out
Said the spirit
Of a greenish blue bird
Sitting on a branch of a dry tree
But how could I
How could I
Gates of scattered songlines
Need a piano
Dancing steps
Bubbling smiles
None of which need a reason
And yet occupied as I am in the struggles
Of a life
Dissolved in a soup of
Fresh asparagus
Do you want to eat these
Without a spoon
And a fork
Fingers soaked in jelly of hopes
Oozed joyful cream
Of a careless farm
Mature crops
Or just tell me
Why standing at the gate of the farm
I should watch birds fly
And pray that my devotion
To the pursuit of a purposeful
Will be fulfilled
Without losing the joy of.
Sitting on a bench
In a solitary corner
Of a forlorn street
Of a forbidden city
In the company of a sound
A touch
A smell
An abandoned air
Forget the rules
Create a sanctuary
So that wild dear
Can roam free
And elephants will not worry
About the deep footsteps
In which will grow a grass
That I need to weave a
Small mattress for you
To take with you
When you grow old
And have to keep your feet dry
On a wet ground

To Enter the world of wise fools

Want to cry
In your arms
Said the little boy
To an old grandmother
Wondered the boy
Why he needed that embrace
Of abandoned joy
In a safety of sunshine
Moon rays
With no need to
Reflect on the pools of brine
In a salt workers farm
Windmills of hopes
Will run for you
So to ramps of approval
Of strong winds are
You dont care
You do
I know you do
But first write your script
And get your passport
To enter the world
Of wise fools

Of a bud to bloom

Will you miss me
Asked the old bird
In a cage
Of a conscience baked under dry sun
Will you miss me
Asked a butterfly
Hovering the flowers
About to wither and dry
But with so much to do
Wrapped shirt with fallen buttons
Uncreased kurtas with torn
May be with a purpose
Losing purse
Will lighten my load
Of possessions I don’t need
And want to free my soul
But the communion
Of a creeper
Around an old trunk
Can rejuvenate the desire
Of a bud to bloom
Barked tree
Punctured leaves
Foggy walk
You say
It’s a circular path

To close the gap

Demanding a cover
Layers of caresses
Asked if this was right
To close the gap
Dig deep into the valleys
And sweep the floor of all the dust
Fallen from the walls
On which you hung your paintings of
Deep love
Unrecognised and uncelebrated
Just because moments were sought To be
In safe vaults of memories
Now that I have been transformed
Erased of all memories
As if a washed beach
Is ready to be imprinted with
The embraces of waves

Should I quarantine
Your enclosure
Lest a storm breaks all boundaries

An abandoned kite

Don’t shout
Said the squirrel
I can hear
Even when you don’t say
But the frogs are going to create
The beautiful music of longing
In a rainy night
Crickets celebrate meeting with their kind
Is my time to shout from the housetops
That I have found
An abandoned kite
Come and take it
Whoever wants
To fly in the sky
Laden with
My sighs
Of unmet sights

Lamp post so high

Don’t clap too hard
Adulations dig deep
Like a dagger with blunt edges
You can not imagine the pain
Of living under the light
Of a lamp post so high
So bright
So convex
And yet leaving dark patches of darkness
Within my heart
You can hide in this darkness
In awoken
From the slumber after a tiring day

Light is a betrayal

Cracks are inevitable
If the seed has to sprout
How else will coat give way
Darkness is a promise
Light is a betrayal
Unauthorised and yet pregnant
With meaning unexplored

silence is serene

silence is serene
dont shout, said the little bird
not knowing that she was shouting
why was she not listening to herself
the cleavages in the rocks of a steep climb
were deep enough
for a climber to fall in them
but small steps, slowly
prevented that
now, when cliff is near
why fear final assault
just go for it