Curating this sadness within

Curating this sadness within 
Would be a very biased act. 
It floats on intangible desires
And fragile motifs.
The real darkness is overshadowed 
Like a real shadow on a moonless night. 
But deep within those wolves howl 
As they need real meat of real things. 
Although sadness burns in winter nights 
This fire is useless during rainy freights. 
A heart needs an oil lamp with  glass lid
This flame needs a lace with fearless deed.
At least for this night
When I curate sadness within my life.

The Human Container

Did you know?

Fractions & fragments 

Fractal & fractures…
My soul has gone through the extremes of 
Micro & macro 
Magical & mystical
To question that happiness when time is dead still 
Enigmatic & energetic
Erotic & entangled
When you melt me with your breath 
Vigorously & vulnerable 
Volatile & vicious 
When your words pour sweetness of rain 
Dissolving & disappearing 
Dreading & decreed-ing 
I crave of a union with you 
Haunting & happy 
Helpless & hoping 
To transcend in a shell of deep oceans 
Captive & colorful 
Carefree & consumed 
With the dreams of moments in metaphors 
Intrigued & intricate 
Innocent & iconic 
Where you forget the questions & conditions 
Peacefully & poetic 
Precisely & pragmatically 
And come out from the shell like birds newly born 
Free & frantic 
Fragile & flamboyant 
Independent of nests & comforts 
Curious & creative 
Confident & crazy 
Like my heart beats for unknown hunger 
Fractions & fragments 
Fractal & fractures…

The Dreamer

For a Limited Eternity. 

I wish I could swim in this pillow and reach your comforting skin,
I wish I could crawl in this water and reach you,
I can just tear off this earth right now to find your core,
And inhale those clouds till the sky is crystal clear to see your eyes,
Shine O sun, Rise! Bring me that daylight,
Build me that colorful bridge,
Where I can surf her waves and climb mountains to drown myself in her fountain of love,

In her Maya,
Between her fingers 
Amidst her feet,
Below her breasts,
Where I can mirror your light,
Spectrum of passion,
Wealth of joy..
There, where, I can swim in her lust,
And her intoxicated eyes will put me at peace.

partial

now I lie,
On d bed,
unsatisfied man in d need of his lover’s company, half drenched between the distance and half cold in this winter’s creed.
Some water chimes tickling the pleasure of a lovers missing touch.
& a campfire burning in the desires of burnt wood to re live the green glory again. Nothing is complete. Not even this warm wine. Not even this blanket which once was like a tent filled with dreams n timeless travels.
A micro second with her presence makes me feel like a man. Like that prince riding on a horse across his orange blue meadows.
Like that sailor who knows seas like nobody else does. But I lie here, a man with uncut strings attached to that unbound eternity. Partially bound. Partially free.

the sutra of kama.
for a fraction of second or two,
your hands become mine. 
my body teleports into yours. 
that moment when the entire universe 
turns around. 
when the heart heats like those 
ancient drums.
that second when all music is noise 
but our breaths and moans. 
that silence when we say none. 
look at that oil lamp
and the curtains coupling.
when we lie down on the bed entangled
like the branches of an old palash tree
dry leaves falling on us like the snow .
that moment is when our souls exchange.
to an epitome of desires.
towards this constitution called humanity.
satisfied.

the sutra of kama.

for a fraction of second or two,
your hands become mine.
my body teleports into yours.

that moment when the entire universe
turns around.
when the heart heats like those
ancient drums.
that second when all music is noise
but our breaths and moans.

that silence when we say none.
look at that oil lamp
and the curtains coupling.

when we lie down on the bed entangled
like the branches of an old palash tree
dry leaves falling on us like the snow .

that moment is when our souls exchange.
to an epitome of desires.
towards this constitution called humanity.
satisfied.

skin deep

the pain that should have been foreseen
your heart was not skin deep 
but it was scattered between spaces
and your mind like those crows
like those crows
in harmony when anticipating hunger
and then celebrating the rotten feast
enjoying its fragrance
rejoiced in delight of its recompense 
a grey scale holi, skin deep again
seasons, festivals are gone
feast is over
you stand by your reflection now
indulged in your own chaotic rhythm 
your own music
that joy was not everlasting
you will still celebrate again
a new feast
and that might not be skin deep.
The Circle of FireMorning feels like I have been walking a thousand miles in this desert dunes, circles in search of you. 
Clouds, come show me the way towards her well. 
Towards her musk illusions and this poisonous desert rain may consume me.
Let the desert snakes just prowl upon me like your treacherous thoughts deflect every breath of me. I am already anchored to my faith.
Anchored at a hundred docs the same time.
Such a low down and my eyes still hope for tour wings.
Right now.
The Circle of Fire

The Circle of Fire
Morning feels like I have been walking a thousand miles in this desert dunes, circles in search of you. 

Clouds, come show me the way towards her well. 

Towards her musk illusions and this poisonous desert rain may consume me.

Let the desert snakes just prowl upon me like your treacherous thoughts deflect every breath of me. I am already anchored to my faith.

Anchored at a hundred docs the same time.

Such a low down and my eyes still hope for tour wings.

Right now.

The Circle of Fire