The silent Heavens ( After Guardian)

The  silent  Heavens ( After Guardian)

I am one  among  the motley crowd
yet with a  lonely attire of  move ahead ;
i wander about, my self fixed with 
pixel image   glued   and expanded  ever.

The  sun  and stars  are fixed,  thier own,
but man's entity is ever changing
in search of a  different gambling ;
me pondering  about  this  threadbare;

but  me in this Earth, hear the echoes
of  uhneard cries ,wouned blights of soul;
Earth still bears them all ,still waiting  to
solve  and resolve  at  her will.

where  is  the  voice of console,
where  is  the dictum of  surrender?
where  are  the faces   and   ears
that  are tuned to  misery  and  mass burial?

I am  still a  wanderer keeping   pace
with  the  jostling  crowd,  unanswered .

WH

    unopened lunch  box

    office window takes a  tour
     ration  shop  queue

  

on red

  Pal  of   skin

   You   are  color-less  stone  
   on  floor

 red  nail polish

mockery  on  surface of
 the  skin

WH

 sick day

 preparing  CV for
 morrow’s interview

Power of guns ( guardian)

                       Power of  guns (  guardian)

Erase  the  word  of  gun in  life  and  dictionary

 Deter  the  language of hatred and calumny in use
in our day to day lives  and  living  concept;  is it
viable ? Why should it be on  stage or   street,
for  misuse  or  out of rage ? At one short,  trigger
it goes off  to drink blood or take life; worse are
sten guns. That  day when pistol  and  sword  are
 withdrawn, that moment when these are abolished
 for the  betterment of society and human life, that
moment   a  new  history is born, mankind relives
its  norms and  proceeds in search of fortification.
by pass surgery on one hand,  pistol shot body on
The  ambulance,  making a  mockery of HIS  Creation.
Gunman  and   gun   should go ; ere  we  must  enter
Into   a pact of   nonviolence  and  eradicate   the  
Devil of  sheer  hatred  and selfishness.
What  for  laws ? what do laws do when they don’t
 Pass an ordinance to quell these vicious   moves?

 

on lady bird

tiny black and  red

 a tattoo colorful   on  
my wrist

A take after this: (After Guardian)

  A  take  after this:   After  Guardian

  After all the endearing seasons, for they  

  are  inevitable  part  of  this  sacred  Creation,
  rivulets  and  brooks  and  falls  ever flow
  as  I  sing  and compose in even rhymes
  and  notes mellifluous  and extempore;
  if tall trees befriend birds  or birds befriend those
  in woods  monopolize  for long it is a
   pleasurable  act of perpetuation of woody  life and leisure;
  life  in them  and  life for us in store of observation
   of  delectable  sight. There is always rhyme in  
   chirping and butterflies skipping around ;
   birds  and gurgling  brooks  and parrots green
   and  throbbing  doves  are Times’  celestial;
   I  write  and  sages  and  visionary seers
   and seekers of wisdom  just  as bards of  
   ancient past wrote  and still the art of
   writing goes  on  amidst  seeing Hell of
   Heaven or Heaven of Havens: we all are
   Bound  by Time’s collocation; Time goes on still.     

 

two lined

  1)inundation

   many cocooned -life’s  hectic  drift

2)  by the  waves
  art of net in progress slowly flowing in

2) pick up many sands

folder of writing opening and  glows

Haiku on worskshop

Costco to coffee

 me – all in a pact of
soft grinding

And on what ( after Guardian)

 And on what (  after Guardian)

Kicking within  four walls

Of  the womb, the  growing babe
From the  process of  embryo
to the days of growth does not
Question its comfort or  care;
Yet,  the full grown outside
Imbecile  are we, in our ever
Questioning  attire  and  flamboyant
Rope have oftener many a  misgiving.
Parents’ blithe  indulge or  bodily urge
Life is  a  Life   for Soul  and  Karma’s
Crave. There  cannot  be  an error  in
His  Design  and  chiseled  Mould.
Ageless  and ceaseless is the path
Between the  instinct   and   the
 survival   and  Imperative   Death mode.
Ugly  and   foolish is  the perpetuation
Of  Death’s lineage.

  

I know not why

I know not why!
The great Bard's adage like
"in my beginning is my end"
or in my  end is my beginning
is true I  know  not for certitude,
but the middle is vicariously  taunting
and   dangerously tricky;
many a  test of walking  in water,
holding  the fire in hand,they dream on:
for the commoner these  are impossible
dull   moments  of  impasse  one  has to
rivet  with; no dreamcasftles in the air;
dragonfly  in me is  always   stupendously
alert  and  adept  to  move on.
Now  my ropewalking   is  set to begin;
this way or  that way,  fasten to the
belief ,  safe entourage  is not  far off.
Accept the  reality of  mystic beginning
and sudden end  in your  baggage .

haiku

after all  she - with

her  unfinished novel
flat on bed

haiku

sister  defeat

leading me on to dais
above me   spider

rowing  many

sad expectations before
reaching ashore

some with thick glass

holding on – to view the
  sunless  parade

on "quiet" and childhood memories

darkening  silence
roadside  sleep and  ambulance
city’s eyesore
   
 math’s  period
rows  of  kneel down
eerie silence

on "boat"

music  of  many 

 in  the  sea -saw  move
  water giving way

cool moon

these  boats  are watchmen  over
the  shore

bird  swims  on

aviation mission-- on
   gusty wind

Epilogue (after guardian)

Epilogue ( after Guardian)
Muse by the board, a  gentle
tap and   numbers flow,threadbare
weave  and  much of meaning;
with  a  sweep  of global images
across  the warp and weft of
poet's painting  brush,  a  masteful
quick stroke, as the creater imagines,
a confessional take,  pious recordation
of  no harming  or  booming, you stay
calm  and  cool,  nothing  happened.
Gubernatorial Sun  always   shines
irrespective of  success  and  failures
in our lives, none can gainsay that.
Now, plot and  structures  are of no
avail.we are poor passing  facts,
sailing  or suppressed by the
evanescent  time factor.