A poison’s draught..

Seamless the magic robe she veils,

High above the sky, my wings are her sight.

A beating heart’s blip a bloop,

Disarmed so easy in a wave of smiles..

As she sleeps, the world is her dreams,

A silent imprint, she’s the stranger I miss.

Take a swig, drag her all I can,

The tidal wave be she & I her swept..

Herald me a life or now choose to take it away,

Make me a flying carpet, drive me at breakneck!

"But then my darling, I am the love you chose to give away"

Undead & their Hymns'

I found God, the hands touched & he had a soul

Half-wit, half scorned his glow..

(Shrugged the dirt off ..& lighted a smoke)

He could try set ablaze d wind I adored,

Dirty a player, his tricks always have to score.

So, haunts his hounds..sees for him,

And the defiance is dealt with in smacks of whim!

This chap had to me, but just spoke.

He was a thief battered by a crowds stick,

a life saved in skids of a car's screech,

a shrapnel that chose to be a wound,

a drowned & his breath new found,

a crutch or the grace of a life’s new sheen.

He says not word one, dabs of moist not his blinks,

So sympathies are not his hood..baulked at now my prayers.

His disciples the kind I to bow,

But to you, I am a world unbent-an earthbound!

Truce of Epithet’s

Pit-a-pat, a tiny & blur her brains that I’d want to knuckle at..
The world she sees in me- a misery & in surreal that she reels in,
It’s no longer the same, an outline that I wake up of me against,
Never apt at keeping a scarlet, the blood I gush in her against!

Archipelago, the real world & I the current that carries some sands,
Yearns a kite like a gush of stray a wind that stinkers.
The hunted a life, the worlds pleasures much marooned than golden some sands,
It’s been waged, the battles..the life’s been saved, in few trifles..
The hurt of new a battered an eyelid-the hurt of that new sun’s stand,
But I am a bewitcher, kurbash as silent in the hands of a whipper!

The hope will take a place of better a new tomorrow,
The world is astray of life bitter sweet & so sorrow.
Help a world that you see me in cajoled, see the eyes that had me hold,
It’s all I see in hate, the sights of trains passing through frail a gate!

Two Scars maketh a cross'

Leaps & jumps of faith..I travel to skies unforeseen,
Shattered the ground, to plummet was a choice lucky.
No longer the same careless brave I leave,
All’s now uncertain lessons of a ghost town..
Can I afford ever to be seen?

Stark without a shroud naked,
Dark clouds hurriedly cover my modesty.
Hear-hear, ye say..
Fuck off..The breath, the sight is as silent as I.

Gypsy & the wicked crystal ball,
Savant’s savate, I am what I ever want to be!
Let the scars envision a cross..
Cosmic tales be true, & I a blasphemy!

White tee & a torn jeans'

Hell-speaks a voice lost, confined in realms of past,
In grievance I wear white at last.
A ride & a thought, indifferent today to sun-beats..
Not mine-the gravel ground, nor the lies that the world sees.
To celebrate the tatters, rugged is my faded blue jeans.

'It’s raining somewhere, a frail sprout’s first..
The brusque breeze frisks where a routine path,
Scoffed today will it by a bird’s newborn.
White the skies, grazes my eyes & turns green.
(Another moment that lingers before being passé)
A knee-jerk, a twirl of wrist, down comes my iridium screen,
A gush of that wind, headlong the will becomes grit..
Thumb beats & in time’s clicks,
Over here in finished a life’s one dream,
A roar & blurred wind-screen..
Archives of mine are lost in adrenaline'

Dree- sleep’s hide & seek!

A night like another, a night like no other,
Allayed are fears now, the times have changed,
Lonely as an afternoon breeze..
The chalice’s empty & the charades have departed,
The belief with it has too.!
The clock in my room & the door mat outside,
Sport a gloom..the moonbeam’s glow is all gone too.
I wish I was not a second late, my death..
I wish I was crowded more in the reasons, a greasy/greedy spoon!
Free will-like a swim for a trinket sunk beneath,
Strumming a music, a beat somewhere rings..
Panacea it soothes, at time’s questions,
Laded imaginations, even the sheep tonight have wings..

Haircuts & new Heads’

It’s been ages, no story has ever caught hold..
The tales of barbers swooshing through black-thin or bold.
I have been scared of them, the whodunits impecunious souls,
From the times of Mahabharata in a Sunday household.
I grew them once-and grew them again..& they would wait..
hands laded with scissors, blade, smirks & combs..oh’ they would!
strapped inside a sheet filthy old, filled in rage..bereaved in the lost,
I could no longer be a world..I was passé but there were other stars to emulate,
No longer my change..I was taught to imitate!
The people & their chairs would trade place, but the places were all the same,
Tap to a tune on a broken radio, hum to their snarly dreamy time..
At least I could leave & unlike electricity that would not come again!