Death of question mark.

I looked at her,
a sinuous tensile figure
trying to sustain the
one footed subjugation
of a gaping hole.

And she looked back,
those beckoning
intrigue blues,
tempting me to dive
and drown myself.

When I plucked her malleable spine
and lifted her high to my lips
wanting to melt into those blues,
she had already died
and there was standing
in front of me,
perfectly balanced
on the solid whole,
an exclamation personified !

Spelunking.

I love it,
love it,
when you come eagerly
through the dark mouth
spelunking down the bat cave.

Stirring curiously the shivering nakedness
where no one's welcome
and not one has ever been suffered,
but you...

Nailing carabiners at every fracture, you enter
the bowels of gloom even I dare not peep into,
and carve on the fleshy tender inside walls,
so gently with your scalpel of care and your eyes closed
the meditative chants about others and their suffering.

I love it... And you ?

Beat it, Milksop.

Fears,
well crafted in the curdled underneath,
suckling on years of circumspection.

Dreams sequester in the wrinkle slowly creeping
on the well moisturized brow,
struggling to dissipate the "what if" perspiration.

Fears,
persuasive, that one can always
close the venetians,
slouch in the subdued plaid
scraps of the sun,
flip the incandescent bulb,
and continue reading.


Well... I don't think so.

The Civil Cuffs.

We’re hiding,
You and me,
Primitive and carnal
Munch and Murakami
Under the white uniform coats
Yours with golden trimmings
Spotless, that cling.
They bundled you early,
And me too,
security is paramount and
instinct incidental,
We were told.

The pattern now is colorful
and adventurous,
and your fingers on mine,
are mutinous.
But even the revolution is tame
And quite frankly acceptable.

No one’s ready
Not even me yet
Or you
For the white rabbit unreined
The insidious vagabond
Reality, where
we swim naked
The hot blue turbulence,
And the coats lie wishful,
bundled on the shore.

ही शुभ्र फुलांची ज्वाला.

पाउस कधीचा पडतो
झाडांची हलती पाने
हलकेच जाग मज अाली
दु:खाच्या मंद सुराने.

डोळ्यात उतरले पाणी
पाण्यावर डोळे फिरती
रक्ताचा उडला पारा
या नितळ उताणीवरती.

पेटून कशी उजळेना
ही शुभ्र फुलांची ज्वाला
ताऱ्यांच्या प्रहरापाशी
पाउस असा कोसळला.

संदिग्ध घरांच्या अोळी
अाकाश ढवळतो वारा
माझ्याच किनाऱ्यावरती
लाटांचा अाज पहारा.

This flame of Dazzling flowers

Been raining for a while
On trees the moving leaf
I'm woken up so gently
by a faint note of grief.

Into eyes, descends the water
On water cruise the eyes
the blood boils over
onto this pristine precipice.

How come it hasn't flared up
the flame of dazzling flowers
the way the rain has poured
near the starry hours.

Nebulous rows of houses
the sky whisked by the gale
Today on my own shores
the waves stand sentinel.