After eternity ( Guardian)

After  eternity ( Guardian)

You are something that sacred

Nameless soul, ancient:  stay

Alive even  in  annihilation,

Sustaining   spirit  hoisting

Seamless victorious banner.

In deluge and aridity, like

Unseen power  banishing

Macabre  coil of  oppression.

You are the ancient   kerb

guiding  through  valleys

 sacred  rivers  and  high mounds,

even in  my  nocturnal journey

of  dreams  and  capturing  moods

of  empires, you stay on.

You are that something supreme

Stay me through broken stores;

like  hermitage let me wander

in  ascetic purity and  detachment.

Why this life of death in living:

You tap our defunct flat root

enter into synergy of abiding source.

You are no  longer a  shadow,

a living present  make us

adore roots of ancient past

flowing through all – liberation

of flame burning though and  through.

  

After the Revolution

After  the revolution

 Ay, But Can Ye? by Vladimir Mayakovsky

Revolution is  ever there in  humanity’s

warring  forum,  not accepting  defeat,

fighting tooth  and nail, unto the last breath,

nations   and  histories   repeat  the motto

we  will shed the last   drop  of  blood.

 Else how  history is  made, remaking 

the  old into new   warf  and 

 weft of  the  parole . Question of

‘why   War’ is  negated.

Let  me paint  the   Olive on  a 

Glass  jar and  extend  by  a   seamless

brush  of  unique  colors ; hold the

candle of  peace and  peace only

sailing the  boat of   eternity  into

 the other world of  serenity.

No more cries of  a stale world.

BHS

 lizard and fly

 there  lies  a  quiet
 momentum

these bunch tender

deck man and God
alike

in the last  rites

the first fresh smell of
 roses

WHY THIS WAR CRY?

 why this   war cry?

From this everyman's land

to woeful no man's land,
rest less  march and round;
secret parleys  and trenches
leaning on parapet walls,
warfront again  and again,
general,captain and  sergeant
and soldier all with a  common
motif to fight the enemy, to
save the country,to redeem  the
honor and pride of nation.

Weather heading toward the
first -line  trench or third line march
 before  questining how far is the enemy,
why not enter into a pact of  quell
the hatred  and quell the venem  in gun,
abhor gun shots, abandon  hot pellets,
surrender to a  common will, path
of   PEACE MARCH FOR EVER.

wh

two parrots in cage
always  a  new language
third is on move

Stepping into transition

    Stepping  Into  Transition

    A  sudden   metallic  throb
   strikes  me  threadbare-
    drawing  me  -- jittery
   into  a  progrssive  cavalcade
   like myrobalan tapping
   the  lost  energy  breathing
   into  a  new   Haven .
 Rain battered  city sreets,
unmappable beyond our  ken;
 there   still, more  than the urchins,
 the  tattered  clothes  rowing  the
paper boats immersing in water,
their  sad predicament, their masters.
Their only  reprieve  is watery pastime .
What transition for  these  flooding
into  rims  and    beyond  boundary line?
what  redemption for  those roofless
lifeless,yet hanging  on their  coired  breath?


  

I keep my eyes on the notes( after guardian)..

I keep my eyes on the notes ( after  uardian I Keep My Eyes on the Ground by Caroline Bird)

No  turning  sideways  like a crow

On  the  plant  sea-saw
No  penumbra  neither shadow
backing  you, your earnest  oeuvre,
but  your  imminent flow like
dictated by your ever vigilant
inspirational  Muse looming .  
no  plagiarism  or  copying  from
tools. Honesty is the pivot, edit your
mind of  the  crabs  and  crumbs
blocking  your inherent verdant  growth.
ever dissolve the base  sediments of
unwanted  unruly  lexicon. Now my
text is ready for  avid circulation.  

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