Justice

A crumpled piece of cloth
Drenched in blood
Is all that remains today
Besides the memory of her smile

A thousand names on a list
A thousand silent voices
A thousand hopes that live no more
A thousand empty spaces

They found the hands that made the bomb
They talked of guilt, trials and hangings
They wrote, they argued and in the end
They ask if we should set him free

With white ink

Today again I wish to write
To make history with my words
Unfurl sentences that will change
The broken paths of my destiny
Roll out paragraphs that will paint
The future in vivid hues
Unfold the untold story
For all mankind to drown in
Bring alphabets magically to life
Make slaves out of melancholy, joy, poignancy,
Truth.
Shape tomorrow with a mere stroke, a sigh
Trace an inky line across pages that prove the stars wrong
Today again I wish to write

Today again I wish I could

and before i know it...Its another October evening....

Abstract Clarity

Psycho alpha disco beta gama
Trance sine twist cos tan
Jazz freud waltz jung marx
Strings land chords air water

I wish

I could gather up the sound of
your laughter and hold it close
Pour your pain into a pail
Toss away your torment and woes

Show you what red blue yellow sound like
Make you taste a symphony or two
Feel the texture of a number
Bring fantasy to life for you

If you will let me…

Where I am headed this weekend...

Binsar... cant hardly wait...

On a canvas

If only you would pick a colour for me
Paint me in bold sweeps and steady strokes
Lay me across your canvas
Just the way you like

I could be sunshine yellow for you
With eyes blue cobalt azure indigo
If thats what you want
And with a hint of coffee on your brush
mixed with copper and touched with gold
You could try and paint my skin

Turn me into daffodils
Pick me up and smell me
Or maybe a dancing brook
That you can dip your toes in
A bird in flight, the rising sun
Poetry on a canvas, a look, a sigh
A blurry portrait or a jumbled Dali
A picture within a picture

Make me say a thousand words and yet
Nothing at all

Tale of an evening

Golden honey sundrops drip from my bare
skin
Our fingers yearn to connect, entwine, entangle,
discover
Tracing a future in wrinkled crumpled twisted
sheets
A wish a desire a longing a
hunger

Are we to be lovers then?
What is to become of our shared
consciousness?

Shoe me the money!!!

Beauty in a Beast

The torn up landscape of my selfish heart
Lying still, awaiting a single drop of sunshine
Spotless within…filled with bright yellow patches
And desire’s ugly scars on the outside

Bordering on the edge of reason
Perched on the boundaries of a sensible life
Cold and dark, small and barren
Searching for pink rapture, wrapped in purple melancholy

Wallowing in self-obsessed oblivion
Exiled by illusions that sanity imposes
Unheading that gentle lover's sigh
Following its own, relentlessly guiltlessly

Sweet goodbyes

Do sweet goodbyes really exist? Growing up is actually letting go. Of your illusions about life. Of magic. Of perceptions ingrained into your soul from the day you were born.. that a happily-ever-after exists. That the future holds something big, something huge…. something different. That you are meant for something… amazing. And your dreams are like caterpillars bursting from their dark cocoons to become colourful butterflies or something like that.And then one day, you are 23. And WHAM. (That’s the sound of the bubble bursting).