Back and forth

      I hold this tiny machine in my hand,

an object shining by the moon glad,

 which can take me to future or past

that beautiful abyss where joy is vast.

"Command O lord", it spoke solemnly

"I shall fulfill thy wish in a jiffy".

Gazed I at the tiny dial wound by chain

and closed my palm around this gain.

'Should I go forward ten years?' ,I thought,

'and pursue the course I always want?;

'Or shall I go back to  Christ of Nazareth 

and save him from impending death?'

Moon from atop beamed at pondering me,

"O Lad! realize that past is a mire

filled with remorse and unknown despair,

that wrings your heart with burden unfair."

"Look at my beautiful radiant form,

which was absent a fortnight in unseen gloom,

Seize the pristine present, O comrade!

that is brimmed with curious wonder and love."

A fortnight will pass with this object intact,

again I will be under this white cataract

searching for my wise moon in distance

but none shall I find in this sky's purse.

Tossed away time machine into darkness

 for both past and future are a menace

to an aching mind full with unfulfilled 

dreams  for a life perfect and unsullied.

"I shall love today and not morrow"

whispered I to the gentle wind sans sorrow,

"Seize I will this dear and wild life

neither robbed by past nor future time."

Estranged Lovers

I

A white cloud, glided glibly from forest

in search of the true lover for his un-resting

life of a wanderer always lost in thought,

of the one whom he never had a sighting.

He came to a village nearby to inquire

about a beautiful damsel that can fly,

near taking a break or need of aspire,

sway with the wind and live on the sky.

His eyes at last met a great beauty

 silken orb of lush green strewn

around her frail and rigid body

O! the countenance haughty and stern.

II

"O lady of the nether region,

I shall take you to wonders unheard of 

and places far from this crowd clarion,

give me a nod, I take you right-off"

"O wanderer of the unbound sky!

march on further from my presence,

for I will never forsake my roots dry

that feeds me with love and care."

"Don't you love me o scented one!,

I can narrate you strange adventures 

of vicious forests and cities morbid, my love

accept my offer and be my mistress."

"O aerial being of pure love!

know that I love thee from my heart,

yet I cant come with you as a dove

for I am bound to that which gave me birth."

III

The cloud waited for a few more days,

cajoling and pleading his eye's apple

until a night he heard the gallant winds 

 whisper to unburden his saddle.

"Adios my dear! take with thee,

my heart's scent to cities you pass,

send your kisses thro' the unwary winds

and I shall wait here for thy presence"

Tree cried for a long time,

in vain for her lost lover,

dreaming of his clear face

and earnest feelings to her.

IV

Time went by un-bothered on its way

taking some and bringing few to this play,

along came the mean autumn with pride

abducting the beauty of the beings tired.

The cloud meanwhile strolled the world,

but none caught his wavering attention,

like the small dusty patch round

where his lover stood in divine perfection.

'All I have seen in the vast globe,

pyramids, oceans and forests colossal

no joy I got without her face serene,

O Love! I come thee to stop final.'

Autumn took away all the drapes

with the lives of defenseless damsels,

mocking at their pleads to spare

"I care for none and your lives are mine."

V

Cloud came back to the village

bereft of his lover's green presence.

He turned black in agony for the dead

and cried helplessly for lover once draped.

"You have left me alone in this morbid

place where true love has no place,

 breathe I no more, this wicked wind

a witness to your death and life."

Cloud wailed unreserved for damsel,

he nearly got once and left forever.

rain poured in that village nocturnal

and the patch became a pond clear.

VI

Spring came to spread life around,

found a lotus bloomed in the center pond.

"O king of life and death! thou art mysterious,

thou hast scattered life in unexpected places"

"Hark O Spring! here in pond lay

two estranged lovers of purest feeling,

one from earth and another from sky

and yet  found the true meaning of loving."

"O lord almighty! I beseech thy to share,

the story of that you so love and care."

"Well, well", God stroked his beard,

"Once upon a time a white cloud."

Scaffold

I was, one fine day, taking a walk

 pondering on things to chalk

thought about, cats, dogs and traffic,

O My! mind wanders up to pacific.

In the nook stood a structure veiled

by morning mist and also thoughts I delved

there it stood simple, beautiful and tall

alone with some unfinished rubble.

Its a scaffold.

A scaffold that stood erect,

bereft of joys and sorrows, adjacent

a building rose that was strong

where in future the people throng.

Yes, its just a scaffold that helps to build.

Trotted to scaffold and queried,

"Are you happy for what you produce?"

Scaffold smiled, yes it smiled at poor me,

a man who can't think but only see.

"Dear man, neither am I elated that

I did this great act of spacious hut,

nor will I be doleful if crushed

by same people whom I helped."

Its a scaffold and a speaking one.

" Are you sans feeling and emotions?

or left your fate, as you are sans motions?"

I asked the sticks that stood like a rail

that reaches out to sky, long and frail.

Its a scaffold made of sticks and ropes.

"Nay, I will to act in this play

that makes me do this display 

I am happy always ,for I do 

what I will without much ado."

Its a scaffold veneered by sticks and ropes.

I pondered and  moved on my way.

Few days melted into the eternal away,

I passed by sticks that fell into rubble

yet I see the scaffold subtle.

Scaffold in  true form sat next to tower

unseen for eyes, but stays there forever,

preaching to  the troubled beings,

and hoping for joy in their wanderings.

Its a scaffold, beckoning to act and leave.

City with nine gates

The entrants to city are passing thro' the gates,
some quick, some slow in their pace and acts.
King is lamenting at the fate of his city,
with enemies at all nine gates vicinity.

The minister is witnessing king's wails
and sighting at the gates, sans veils
with  smile dancing on countenance
not a tinge of sorrow or fear of existence.

King in hurry gave orders, rang bells hard
summoning soldiers, assigning duties on aboard
Fearing all the time, sure of defeat
for this is not his usual slow beat.

He in agony called for minister to advice
in matters which are causes of great cowardice.

"Smile O King! at this entrants' face,
realize that you are beyond this farce.
Allow them with a smile joyous
and let them pass city without any war cries;"

"You are noncorrosive by this, O King
you are the pull and not a mere ting cog."

King smiled while aliens entered thro' nine gates
they tried a battle yet king gifted them roses,
Realizing their folly, went they away
in search of cities which can sway.

King was happy working with the mortar,
churning  love nectar  to each citizen and visitor.

Minister witness as he was, is and will
smiled at the king who passed the bill:
'Life is not a battle
life is love story subtle'

"After all the king is the ultimate ruler
and he has the choice of warrior or lover"
minister whispered to five winds caressing
"I am mere witness, always smiling."

The city of nine gates is beautiful.
the city with nine gates is purposeful
reigned  king supreme- all powerful
all citizens and visitors truly joyful.

Atop a hundred stories sat,
minister witnessing the sight.

To be or not to be

Sun moves over all things under

with no trepidation seated on an unseen saddle,

does his duty eternal forever, ponder

if shouldn't I be like sun with no concern for babble.

Moon, the beautiful lady clad in black velvet,

cries with saddened hearts at unseen nights

yet, people happy she fills the joyous goblet

moon, should I be giving each their worth feelings.

Oh! there I see the rain torrential 

preying on all with no remorse or twitch,

drenching all in harvest celestial,

should I be that, living for my own gulch.

Sat I near a clear pond  gazing at reflection,

and sighed to the creator's finest marvels,

 pure sights of creator's perfection

no botheration of cycles of impish times.

Chosen I to be as am with imperfection,

until a day I sit in my father's presence,

chiseling on my heart without trepidation

for the eternal place in world's absence.

For although creations are flawless,

 aren't they part of world imperfect?

Here they stay forever beseeching humans,

to take voyage to the unsullied paradise lost.

  

Withering Petals

I

A beautiful rose bud I planted

in my little garden, excited

and pleased with my self ,that breath

I poured into the petals that blush.

Evening I saunter to look at growing miracle,

simple red rose, that captured  spectacle

of setting sun and stitched cloth for itself

Oh! what an image that pleased my eyes.

After moon completed the celestial walk,

the petals blossomed at the call of cock

swaying, I saw, petals of impish delight

with every passing breeze and wishing wind.

II

The snow was falling in layers

as if a giant woodcutter above sawing timbers,

my beautiful rose was there in morning

sans bloom, alas! struck the spell of mourning.

"You can't do this...", I bemoaned to withering petals,

"Yesterday beautiful you were like a smile,

but now you look like smudged papers

life drenched and taken to a dozen mile."

Withering petals closed in further unperturbed

by my accusations nor unending advises,

"Expansion of life, contraction is death, O! rose bud

so why do you close in holding life's secrets."

Petals amused by bromides I bored

opened ever so slight pouring out light bright,

"My dear! How funny you like this fraud

glibly, ask I with no shame nor fright

purpose of existence these petals have

once I realize the truth beyond the red fence."

I shrugged my shoulders and picked the fallen 

after last shrivels without a quiver

"True", I concede at last to the new pollen

"Once I walked a mile afar

should I shudder and crawl forever"

A few petals forever blossomed

in my little garden at road's end.

Crusade on Humanity

Fie on man!Fie on man

cried the world in unison

good for nothing we all are,

preached men to one another

Ants go in a straight line,

bees sing eternal songs sublime

what we can do proper, sighs man

other than ebb away unto drowsy drain.

Cats  trust in their curious  mother

Monkeys can jump without any bother

Man, world scorns,good for nothing

for he believes few after much thinking.

Fie on man! Fie on man

cried the world in unison

animals are kept atop a pedestal

while man is thrown into padded cell.

I look at the face of world

and ask with concerned bold

"World, isn't human who made grid?

Is it not humans who decides good?"

Ants cant dream of cloud nine

Monkeys cant walk in great style,

Cats cant muse and bees cant perceive,

Man is the one who bestows world life.

Purpose for life, ,animals don't have

programmed they are by driver divine,

Eat, drink ,merry their only goals

but, man only can frown at gushing flows.

Fie on man you say not in future

for the most sinful in our culture

is better than most disciplined creature,

for the power of volition is only ours, my dear.

Crusade on Humanity

Fie on man!Fie on man

cried the world in unison

good for nothing we all are,

preached men to one another

Ants go in a straight line,

bees sing eternal songs sublime

what we can do proper, sighs man

other than ebb away unto drowsy drain.

Cats  trust in their curious  mother

Monkeys can jump without any bother

Man, world scorns,good for nothing

for he believes few after much thinking.

Fie on man! Fie on man

cried the world in unison

animals are kept atop a pedestal

while man is thrown into padded cell.

I look at the face of world

and ask with concerned bold

"World, isn't human who made grid?

Is it not humans who decides good?"

Ants cant dream of cloud nine

Monkeys cant walk in great style,

Cats cant muse and bees cant perceive,

Man is the one who bestows world life.

Purpose for life, ,animals don't have

programmed they are by driver divine,

Eat, drink ,merry their only goals

but, man only can frown at gushing flows.

Fie on man you say not in future

for the most sinful in our culture

is better than most disciplined creature,

for the power of volition is only ours, my dear.

The Whites In-Between

How I wish to stay there, a lone state
where the clocks wont decide one's run,
nor the people busy in deciding other's fate
Place where other's claim not from my life's urn.

Nay, it is not a sleep or slumber, I yearn for,
but a valley down there away from the sight
of force brutal and emotional, tossing ever
men into the abyss of mindless death.

I shall rest there, the secluded spot lush green,
which isn't smothered  by guileless guilt ,
and brook gaily caresses the pebbles clean
taking away burdens of unearned  sorrows built.

This place shall never be mapped by others,
for it is not of this world, full of activity,
but where body rest while mind builds
world unfettered, unclaimed by none for eternity.

Sitting there, under the lone tree afar
laughing with the free breeze  unspoken,
apparently inactive, yet living as a wild flower
in between the blacks shall hide I, unseen.

White cotton and black cats

Gazing at sky atop, I see myriad shaped clouds

that are prisms perfect , under the tree  I ponder

if these are nature's cotton or product of manufacturers'

Oh! white cloud, that makes purest snow blush in wonder.

Memories ah! those lasting moments in moving times,

that aren't vivid in facts yet clear in heart's trove

passes thro' fields of my colorful consciousness,

making me gape after it, in a lone state.

The memories are silver pure and emotions true,

I wonder if they really in the past existed

in this world mundane where we lived and live,

Perhaps, like the clouds up there, unnatural products of mood.

Oh! I pine for pristine past with glad grandeur

present filled of facts, what are thy?, I wonder.

Sky changes from clear blue to dreary black,

 Behold o man! the product of kindness slack 

Alas! I get drenched in rain that is real

providence, I say, you are very cruel.

Regrets, O God!, thorns that prick hard,

long after they die, in unseen places

the past is farce but pain, its gnawing

 like a slimy snail in apple, decimating.

How much I pine to realize

that white is true and rain a mirage,

child's smile playing on sweet lips

are truer than an old man's withering sighs.

  

Plates and palettes

I was for my mother waiting
with huge plate which would get serving,
ignorant of how I look then
but eyeing always the across person.

Shh... I hear the anklets of my beloved
I breathe the fragrance of thy beloved
the merry giggling so lovely
her, I saw with containers filled fully.

Her eyes are twinkling and a lovely smile
adorned her enrapturing unsullied face,
all the way came the ever loving she
just to serve her dear child, me.

Aghast and dejected I was
when she served my opposite mass
busy and bereft was I and forgot
to look at my own plate my front.

"Why is it mother that you didn't serve me?"
I moaned catching her feet and grasping her knee
She looked at me and laughed at my childish tantrums,
patted my cheeks to show the truth of conundrums.

Held down my head in weeping
and gazed at the plate of my yearning,
realized I my mother's laugh and silent sermon,
"World is image of you son,
open your eyes and stop being blind,
look its the mirror and smokes all around."

Look my comrades at thy opposite person
an image and reflection, not a moron.

Turn the torch within, O traveler!
thy shall hear mirth of mother ethereal.

A Blotch

There he is, swaying in midst of canvas eternal
flying past the disdain houses of cities mournful,
galloping away from the valleys silent and pure
he travels purposeful, apparently,to a destination sure.

He looks like a ink stain left by child
in impish impulse on the vast sheet spread
but, truly he made the art perfect
the sky is naught, without this insult.

"Where are you speeding my friend?
In this world, where all search for the dear end"
queried I my white bodied astral traveler,
white cloud, drifting over my head without a mutter.

The cloud paused at the hurdle I placed,
"Following I am my fellow brethren ahead
for they know the destination for this advent."
answered the blotch and away it went.

"Are you sure that feet, you should plant
on the same soil in the lands distant
where thy comrades weep in the end
to the un-felt rocks and trees hard?"

The passing cloud halted at my shouts
letting his fellow white soldiers  pass,
"Grateful to you my fellow voyager
for thy had revealed the truth always clear."

The blue patch revealed where a blotch was
sky still perfect and serene as it always is
for the cloud, started a journey to not afar
but to break the self confining  glass jar.

Blotch disappears once it sees purpose
of the impish hand that put him in place,
hand that holds the treasures of all
is waiting for us to pause and call.

Sky Perfect

Painting I was from above sky
so marvelous and unique it is
'things' which exist now,"Why?"
you sternly probe, answer is and was
'Will' of I after all, large canvas I
created called it 'World' to display art
done with loving brushes and many hues
sky as palette along with living heart

Painting I was....

Trees, shrubs,atoms,hills,oceans..what not?
at last, painting I was humans, cherished prize
of mine,I dipped brush in sky and white blot
it formed...I named it cloud white

Painting I was...

Its completing, my cherished prize
was being painted and oops!!
brushes fell up and vanished above
I thought of no full stops.

But how? I pondered and will
an answer for this pertinent question
to make it more work thrill
Simple, I descended into my composition

becoming a part of my painting
by body,mind and heart decorate
while I in this plane enjoying
my creation so brilliantly attune...

Painting I am...
From here- the present, future and history
watching from the window, sky my palette
I whisper,"Sky Perfect",part of my glory
I look at this world where I paint and live
smile and conjure my magic spell
of discrimination, devotion and many
but still, its perfect.. for it's work and will
of creator who is seen in forms many
'World perfect...the title of my final painting.

I am creator and I the created.

...Finally...

                                                     Feather fly as wind blows
                                                     but if feather isn't , what does wind fly's?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ink felt that without it
here cant be a dot knit,
It boasted and shrugged at others
until the pen expressed its emotions,

"O Ink! my instrument you are
nothing, can you do, how much ever you dare
for I your master should definitely desire
without which you cant respire"

Before even pen could boast completely
fingers that are holding pen firmly
mocked at pen's unearned authority
and guffawed at ever beings audacity

"You fella ! what a state? I pity your capacity
for without me holding what can you do steady"

Pen was dejected and fingers are pompously blushing
brain from top looked at the fingers moving,
smirked at their predicament and ignorance
decided to remind fingers of their place at base.

"You ignorant organ!that got no senses
its I, brain, who is controlling your movements
know now that you all are my slaves,fists
is formed by my command, for that matter the painful cuts"

Brain was going over all her glory and power,
God laughed at His creations so dear
and whispered to whoever will to hear
the celestial eternal stream pure and clear

"O Love! without my will can anything
be here , yet you clamor to be a superior being."

Then God of small words smiled with twinkle
 like a star over the temptress mighty sickle

'Its my will though, that make all quarrel
with  petty word or mighty gun barrel'

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                        Thus, the wind doesn't blow feather
                                                       nor feather fly to destination further
                                                       its flick of the wizened wizard,organize
                                                        melody of this harp and lute bizarre.                

The Other Valley

The world I stay, thrives by differences ;corporeal and surreal
age it adds to make one wise old and other a young fool
body it binds, land it divides and languages it creates
all for a single purpose-to create this valley of differences.

Time! how cruel you are to cut all asunder
brandishing the ruthless sword that leaves me yonder
from my loved ones, whom thy crew rows efficiently
a journey-which makes the left, grieve on past incessantly.

Unfair is this world, that leaves me in present alone
with all I love tucked in past or future trove
work of unbiased fate, I shall speak not forever
for it is the chief of my happiness plunder.

Thus, I cried to the frolicking waves
that die anew at my feet  always,
"Hop not dear young beings of water
this world deserves not thy  happy chatter"

The waves giggled still in my presence,
" O man! why think you of this forlorn place
where a wave lives on the fall of her kin
a place so miserable with death so keen"

"Think of that valley my comrade of life
where all shall  huddle near a joyous lake,
with fountain of youth brimming our cups,
tree of knowledge silently resting unspoken woes."

Closed I, my eyes that have seen only pain
kissed adieu to friends who speak to most in vain
"I shall look for you in the other valley, my dear
where we laugh at all this; serious and unreal."

Of cobwebs and cobblers

                                                            I
Rummaging the cupboards on a rainy day
found I not just untouched books and sundry,
gazed I the master stroke of the ever mindful master
gentle notice to cast-off the mundane blinder

Passing along the unnoticed, on a melancholy street at night,
 moon above peeped over its jeweled blanket, fearful of  tempest's might
glanced I, at a silent worker unmindful of devil lurking,
busy with his mending tools under street light- shining.

                                                             II

Cobwebs, salute to thee, o monarch of sacrifice
thou conquer the things forgotten ,by stupid me
caught in the vast machine of monotonous working,
only to be led away by hands' shuffling and tongue's cursing.

Great is thy service to the forgetful humans,
too busy to follow their whispering hearts
jarring nudge by your presence, on tools once beautiful
awakens man to pursuit of undiscovered bountiful.

                                                           III

Ode to you , O cobbler of careworn travelers
busy in mending shoes into their former selves
thou sits in a nook forever, sans comfort and safety
yet becomes beacon to others- lanes to unending beauty.

Like the tower clock, you stay fixed and unstir
bending meticulously on broken 'soles' and torn leather
hearing their stories of traveled roads  many and weary
pushing them to walk for miles to come for the ultimate glory.

                                                           IV
Grateful to thee, the two silent guardians
O! ever changing and unchanging entities
while one reminds of hearts wishful murmurs
other enables the walks on the beckoning rainbows.

Let us reach the sky with the papers and pencils
pull down the tempest with  fearless heart beats
let the moon come out for once into the open
and we gaze at the unveiled  beauty with admiration.

Flash Lights

Sailing on a murky pond,
in a boat very small yet surprisingly bold
looked I at the flash lights
that beckon me away from the gloomy sights.

Scattered my gaze around this body of water
not definitely a sight that brightens the inner weather
weeds growing ceaselessly into a ghastly demon
choking the beauty all around at the Satan's summon.

The world I be is an absolute imperfect
with evil thriving forever like an elephantiasis feet
trampling goodness into an unrecognizable sundry sum
Look at Hitler? Look at Shelly ? -who caused  more gloom.

Flash Lights...beckon me to water inside
to dive into the murky pond to end all at once
close the eyes and take a deep painful plunge
cease I to exist in this ever morbid mirage.

Should I go after the flash lights?
Should I shut tight my eyes?

Should I take the defenseless dive?
Maybe .... I should in some  future time.....    

A dry tree

I am surrounded
Yet alone,
I am lifeless
Yet alive,
I am showed sympathy
By touching me with their hands

Admires my neighbors
But never mine

But, one day a boy as lonely as me
Comes and stares at me eyes of love
And whispers like wind
Full of spring season load
"I love you"simple three words
The key to unlock my folds

Now too I am a dry tree
But then a party of mine was touched and free
From the clutches of this silly cocoon
I move and live in an eternal spring world
Beyond this world of pens and sword

I am there...
Come meet me...

Well...come

                                    III
Travelling I an unknown road
With few clues of where it lead
Passerby's are of many hues
Some sheer resenting and amiss
Few more blaming the fate
With a feverous hate

Yet scores of people loving
And guiding those who are still living
I pass them all with interest
Confused and unaware of God's concert

Many questions I asked valiantly
Received answers for most jubilantly
Barring few four which I need patience
As I need to go over a long distance

All the while , I find many people
Over my hearts pupil
Searching for the source
Ignorant I was of my latent force.

                           II
I feel in pits and potholes
Suffered as if burned on charcoals
I went over the bumps
And jumped over across the shrubs
Always gazing for the one
Whom I thought else someone

A mud path I saw then
Whose kind I saw, don't know when
My foot prints trailed on the path
While I was ending journey most worth

Huge mansion comes to the vision
The way bestowed to end my mission
Sun setting behind the mansion
While sky is invisible, absence of vision.

                              I

Pristine and reflective is the nature
Of my eyes beholding architecture
I neared it, almost a metre left
And the vision made me wept

'God save me and guard me
As you is the only one with me
I opened my eyes and petrified
For I saw many people passed
Heard I my own voice say
"Well.. come to  destination thy"

The voice so recognisable and
Loving I heard always even after this end.
I hesitantly opened and entered
The door final leap to what I cherished

I looked around the interiors Ware
Which is decorated with great care
Realised that mansion is my self
Kingdom of heaven in true self.

P.S

This is not the moment ,I thought
And came out of the mansion with swift
Remembering I don't know how much
But deep in heart engraved - I am truth as such

I said and say to my images
Those which seeks and asks
For it is the sign I sought
To share the richest thought

Kingdom of heaven is in your view
Always waiting to be sought by you
Knock ,the treasure is yours of course
The richest one - thy is all source.

Miraculous Mirage

O! How I long for a miracle
that sets all things right in this life debacle
one flick of a wand, one chant of a magical spell
clears all the wilderness away;making journey a swell.

On my window I see trees gigantic fly away,
buildings both marvelous and stupid pop out of the way
waving hands become part of the backdrop forgotten soon
as the train steers its way thro' multi-colored monsoon.

Ample opportunities I was given by the generous train
to drop all past behind and walk into unknown
many stations it halts both crowded and desolated
for me to jump and catch the life altered.

I shook my head at the chances so often,
a miracle that I longed  to vanish the past, mistaken
for the buried may leave me behind
but I carry the buried burden in my mind.

I sit in the train with my ticket held tight
waiting patiently for my turn to descend this flight
at the station past the racing trees and vanishing buildings
place where I leave the train, with neither the belongings nor the longings.

Wild Eyes

I

Let me tell you a common untold story

of a countryside that went for common glory,

ensuring all are same and homogeneous

with no botheration of means -love or violence.

There was a person who was taller

than his fellow comrades and was utter disgrace

to the ideals of the common good and popular

norms that prevailed in the country side.

He started to write things original

and new,which were against then flowing current

communities formed and rebuked his works fatal

comrades decided,finally,to cut his brain to curb the spirited spirit.

II

The man who had written originals walked

slowly and unsteadily,under the approving gaze of comrades

he didn't smile as he used to and was dazed like a corpse dead,

"Well done comrade", people congratulated,"the evil has gone to blazes."

People who ridiculed him and feared his superiority

welcomed with open arms to their houses and hearts

for he was no longer a danger of the great majority

nor was he a symbol of the million forsaken dreams.

III

The man couldn't hold a pen with his hands

for along with the brain they cut the thumb as precautionary

step to ensure evil never rises its multi-various  hoods 

thro' him or anyone who inclines to creative drudgery

The moon was smiling at the world

filling the sorrowful mundane container with glow

of love and thought that can't be curtailed

sending message to anyone who wants to ride against the flow.

"Brain you may cut,o soldiers of solidarity

yet the creativity in men can never be broken

fingers you may detach from hands that make beauty

yet thought and grace will definitely  awaken"

IV

The man with brain cut and thumbs detached in his solitary night

picked up a brush that's thrown on forlorn road

smiled after a long time at moon so bright,

painted symbol of dreams not forsaken on a broken board.

His wild eyes looked at the infinite sky

nay, into the depths of his mind - residence of almighty.

Wire Twined

Wire I twined around me slowly,
over the years,carefully and gladly
ignorant I was, for limiting I
the starting of Infinite, and then I cry,
shouted that,"This is unfair,injustice,cruel
for world is a very mean wicked gruel."

Silly of me to limit myself with wire
and then cry out at others,as they weren't dear
How can they be? for barbed wire chipped
in between and lonely I stayed in cell, detained.

Now, I pluck the fence,made by me
before, so carefully with all sense,
but not anymore for I don't will
to limit the I , and miss the thrill.

I am bleeding as wire I twined
is ripping me apart and mind wounded
I go on still with more convicted zeal
to break the wire completely I unveil

Wounds I lick with my tongue
and say to my self,"O! It stung,
but I remove and burn for freedom of I
will not let I be limit to this petty i."

Smiling I, for I realized that
these aren't wounds, though they ought
to be , as I feel nothing, and others
are not present in my merciful pleas and mutters

For sky, infinite and  perfect living
doesn't bother thunders or stars twinkling
as they are all part just a meager portion
of the beautiful,perfect ,infinite ocean.....

Ah!
Ahhhhh!
I remove the wire twined
to  realize infinite and reaching the true world's end.


Let us meet on the other side
where there neither you or me to slide
but, only the Infinite I that always reside.
We will meet in that world...sans divide.

Why Not Sun?

It is a star in the sky
but oh! not as any another,
rises self driven and there it lay
mesmerizing by making light scatter.

Ah! behold the ever enchanting creation
which makes me see darling nature
start which rises at times in each nation
uniting everything under its majestic stature.

I cant see it with my eyes, at work
adoring it when resting with cloud
or setting for the wait, for next day's merry cock
enlightening moon from behind and feeling proud.

Observing, is that unique star,known as sun
people living, animals being and plants thriving
alas! the other side too, people hating,animals killing and dying soon
unbiased it stays as a witness with rays showering in winter or spring.

'Why Sun rise?'I thought and pondered quietly,
still I realized that the star  never rises
but stays constant and doing duty merrily,divinely
earth rotates around its only oasis, one among many stars.

Times came when I cursed it,
it happened that I chided for being so warm
now! I love sun for the star  taught
lesson, do duty which you love and you think right.

Now, I close these eyes of mine for
beauty lies in the eyes of beholder, I see
the formless sun rather unseen form which stir
me from sleep and make me to realize real life.

O! how to describe that unseen yet seen form?
except with exclamations and mute silence
but wait! I can give way out of this doubting storm,
sun is part of the real form of all
your his,her's that , this..... in short, the only ONE.

PErsonal Note (PEN):
I was walking in weed filled path
thinking,living and loving ,'about going alone
gazed I at the sky and saw the sun in sky's depth
moon,dictionary and about many I thought and wrote
so,
I questioned 'Why Not Sun?'


  

Earnest Unrest-A fiction

Long ago, a teenager by name Moses was here
he used to be a genius in study or play,
but always he wasn't satisfied by reality glare
full of miseries all around wherever he may stay.

Corruption,hypocrisy, bureaucracy,autocracy
robbery,molestation,fooling one another
goes on adversities without even an ounce mercy
for Moses, poor boy! shaken by the dark weather.

First, blamed God for creating world like this,
mean in all ways for Moses learnt
God is creator of everything and play of His
makes actions,reactions and each man's instinct.

Later, Moses accused people all around him
with passionate and poisonous words for he read
'Man is bestowed by God with free will and whim
so, responsible he is of all actions' a sentiment bold.

In this unrest in Moses world, he came across
the man, unlike men he had ever seen
for the man smiled purely even on his cross
although, thorns adorn his head and all people mean.

"How can he be like that smiling,unperturbed?"
asked Moses within for long in days and dark nights
Until, realization made his mind blow and unburdened
Moses, he is the reason for all the mess.

Finally, Moses took responsibility of world around
for situations though apparently are from with-out
the state of mind is set by Moses by the thoughts mound
deciding the future of his world, master of with-in and with-out.

Moses is happy ever after, from then on
for world is sans corruption,hypocrisy and the ecectras
 for he grasped the responsibility of time marathon
thus, every act and situation is just imagination's images

Moses unrest
transformed into
Journey Earnest
Responsibility Unto'



PEN (PErsonal Note): An artist uses fiction to lead world to reality....same is the case here.
  

Glorious Glow worm

Glory to the glow worm,not an ordinary
for you hold the truth and what more
you become part of it-summit of journey
O! great you are glow worm,high you soar.

You have fire within,lighting your back
what a sight at night to see thy
glide over dark world with a fire sack
strolling for food,a being on its way.

You see another glow worm in motion,
abruptly you stop and look at its tail
"O Fire ! it hold safe" jealousy's invasion
in your heart,the start of all trail.

You go on, with that. everywhere
following the fire, that fly in the air
 leaves hit,thorns cut your ware
you fall down in a jiffy thro' this nightmare.

Glowworm, its in that despondency
you look within your self and bingo!
fire you find with all fancy
mocking at your chase of a virgo.

Now, realized and resolved I see
you, glorious glow worm fly
in dark,to become the fire glee,
searching for your source-where you lie
forever....for you ...in fire.

Glorious worm! your glow brilliant
in the radiance of bonfire live,
dramatically, you jump into vibrant
fire, identified your source,after much strive.

O Plea to thee ! O glorious glow worm
in the fire safe and peaceful,
live here in my heart with this lesson firm
till I realize that I is all powerful
for, fire for you is fire for me
truth of you is truth of I.

Glorious glow worm,
thy have become glory synonym.

A glow worm fly's into the fire....

Perception

" O God!" cried out a desolated man

in the middle of turbulent ocean

" I am stuck in water all around

filled with whales,sea hounds and many forms of fear I find

Why Lord? Why these pestering  problems?"

Shouted the saddened man out to the northern lights.

"Ye man!" answered God benevolent

"Look where you are for a moment

I gave you the boat you are aboard

and believe that I will lead you to the road"

"Alas!" exclaimed a little girl

who was looking at the moon that twirl

" The clouds covered the beauty

God why did you allow the pure sanctity

to be corroded by these hideous black hovers

which are  ghastly as ever recurring reapers"

"My Child!" whispered God from heaven upward

"Look from this side child and what you find

but a beautiful crescent smiling at you tender,

no clouds can hide the slender splendor

fear not of clouds, oceans or any adversities

for it only takes a change to tackle the diversities."

  

God smiled at the child and the man with fear

and whispered "Its change in perception, my dear"