sort this out

sensations are numbed
you pricked the needle too often
but i am getting the skin replaced
will burn this one
ash will be scattered over those mountains
where in monasteries, we prayed
for peace and order
and then as expected
all the disorder followed

sort this out

brown obelisk

still
a brown obelisk
i have ordered it
dont bemon
nothing needs to be done
just bury me, and don’t turn back
they say resurrection can take place

i dread to think of that
but i still want you
to decorate my grave
and plant a few seedlings of black
coloured flowers
if you may

somehow, sometime

i had not thought
whatever i had bought
will be a waste
or that i will have got it in real haste

but now i realise
i have erred
the lines are blurred
sky is torn
and the
rainbow is washed out
you will not find any other colour
i hope
and that is all matters
it does
my hope
somehow
sometime

pluck all the cherries

layers
after layers were peeled
when i reached your gate
and the search for the basic kernel
yielded a corroded
stone
wornout
because it had never been polished
but then molten lava had not yet finished
all your grooves can act as a mould
make it
shape it
swallow it
suck it
pluck all the cherries
tree is about shed all leaves

heal your ego, feed your ego

Pains are not the purpose
Nor will they end
By cutting the arm
Or eyes
Which bleed
It is the sensation
Of being there
When one needs no curtains
No doors
No assurance
And no balance
To weigh
What was equated
With what
Heal your ego
Feed your ego
Let it swallow
All the pain
Lest
One forgets
Pain is not the purpose
Pain can only
Be a tunnel
To pass through
Before light liberates
The joyful
Feeling of being there

Don’t ask why

Wait is almost over
Spring is too far
But the

Flowers are in bloom
Dont tighten your embrace

You remind me of your fears
You have nothing to worry tomorrow
Street is empty
Walk on
No dogs to frighten
No body to threaten
Relax
Fly
Dont ask
Why

being watched from within


a lot of eyes sprouted in my in side
they all see me from different angles
sometimes they look at me as if i am a stranger
sometimes
they see me as a old forgotten friend
and sometimes
as someone they despise
but they still look at me
what else matters
nothing

just truth

no shout
no claim
no scream
no allegation of asymmetry
no cloak of contrived meaning
just truth, a drop of truth,
undiluted
unpolished

fragmented faith

fragmented faith
could not have persuaded Him to
give away his life for our misdeeds
but life He did give away
were our frailties
and inadequacies
the reason or consequence of His magnanimity?

now, the fragments have been joined
by a maze of pathways
let me abandon them all
and sleep away
under a tree
whose roots may have been cut
by some indifferent gardener
but so long as shadows survive
We will not have to hang Him again
resurrection may also not be needed
His spirit will reverberate in our hearts
like ripples in the lake
in which you threw the stone i gave you
to jeep on your table
to prevent all the fragile fragments flying away

dont worry, forget that
no need to care for stone
or the fragments
all is forgotten
and forgiven
move on
find your way through the maze
quietly and confidently
move on