Rain

Those years made me a destitute child
I swam across the swamps and ran through the wild
the grass, everywhere I slept, went dry and dead
fields in the vicinity yielded no bread

Thirst in my throat squeezed up my guts
my back was scarred and feet had cuts
I looked to the heavens and prayed for the rain
while my spirit yearned for you in tenacious pain

It gets so lonely here
the moonlight and roses
violins and candles
are nothing but gone
Yet, memories of you
do linger on.

I woke up when it began to happen....

a distant thunder lit up the desert of desolation
the stench of mud filled the bowels of isolation
Here it is.....
now, the flowers will bloom back
and the birds will return to their rack.
Seasons, that are gone, will be again made
the tears of tribulation will soon fade
Here it is.....far away in exile,
I was waiting for the rain all my life
but when it came,
you were not there.

across yesterday

Through my days of angst
I hear you speak
at times as a pleasant whisper
or as a still voice from deep
you talk of inscrutable grasslands
and misty rain from cloud nine
they lug me up the stairs of hell
and get me going again.
Your smile is my hideaway
to it I retreat
undulating in times olden
I stay.

Taj Mahal stands bright on the table
watch on my wrist is beating
anthology of shirts in my wardrobe
quietly wait
all tokens of adulation you sent my way.
Each night, across the cavernous darkness
I elongate my hand to retrieve you
all it can clasp are letters from a lost kingdom
and pictures in the photo album.

After years, yesterday, against the rising sun
you stood a few yards from me
by the door of your stately mansion
like a fairy adorned in celestial apparel.
Behind the rolled up car window
that crossed a thousand miles
I concealed myself from you
your hubby drove to office
and you are a mother of two.

wedding morning walk

Daffodils brushing the windowpane are moist
sun’s lethargic at work
a gentle nibble at the outstaying mountain mist.
Dahlias by the rock unwrap a reluctant yawn
awakened by petulant honks afar
still, abode’s shadows refuse to seep over the trimmed lawn.
Fleet shoe taps pour down on the corridor
giggles of cousins out of the festooned car door.
Spruced up church in the valley, tick-tock on wall and cuckoo call
hasten my shower and all.
Then descends your perfumed fragrance
I know where you are
I slip into my room, there you are.
A smile, a laugh, a focused look,
mellowed expression and a cock-a-snook
- unnerved nor overawed by time.

We dreamed of marital bliss, planned a perfect means
here you are in my arms behind closed screens.
My fingers play on your face, my eyes pierce yours
mumbling words imprecise;
yet, you prefer not to speak, ignoring my intense peek.
My breath is hard on your tresses
untouchable they are, so it passes
and a knock on the door invades privacy
you bother not to see.
My fingers let go the dark cardboard flap.
It falls on you, fettering my craving view.
I slide your memories filled drawer in and stand up
for a walk down the smoggy green strips.
Hereafter, I bid you farewell each time
I kiss those strange consort’s lips.

metal serpent

From a distance like a worm
as if out of eternity
it crawls along the infinite ladder fallen to the ground
swells slowly into a gargantuan metal serpent
growling and snorting fumes it arrives
loud speakers declare its presence
I stare at her - she walks away
raucous voices around me go muffled
and I stand in a crowd of shadows
she sits in its belly, iron bars cross my vision
it’s her cage and my prison
on spheres of tides unseen.
It growls and snorts again
wheels beneath its belly roll with an ugly din of tearing away
metal serpent swerves and becomes a worm
I stand alone among the shadows on the callous platform
and it vanishes into eternity......
I long to crush its head
but it always took her away
and bruised my heel.

she's back in town

On foot down the blustery savanna
grubby farmer said he saw her.
Long indolent time lapsed since
she left my world for a higher clamber.
Holding close under the umbrella as hale stones hurled in
or roving the raft home in concert across the midnight rain,
at shooting stars making a wish or turning the backs in anguish
this heart’s choked with her memories, my guests at every dine.
Sprinting down the verdant knoll
“I saw her,” wheezed out the twelve-year-old,
“she’s moseying along the old castle’s corridor.”
Though she’s back in town, I was eschewed.

Dead moon deserted the murky sky
wolves howl out misty smokes with the resonance of a dirge
in blood congealing chill, led by torch’s slender shaft
groping through eerie castle halls, for her I search.
With lungs filled with the stench of yore, I stayed put
prelude to the day dawned, but she eluded.
Obscured skies were quietly dripping pity
and yowls of the castle hounded me as I turned and walked.
I’m dressed up in my best suit.... I crave to ask her why ?
Only one such place to air my query
I rested the rose on gravestone as its letters blurred in my eyes
I whispered to her breaking the calm of cemetery
"Sorry about forgetting your death anniversary."

Dinner

Hiss of night’s riding the wings of concealed wind
sailing over the frosty cliffs unknown to the eagles' eyes
sprinkling white flakes it gobbled at the distant snowy rind
into the mane of weeping trees, with a snoopy heart that pries

I’m all dressed in black and my Tuxedo’s flawless
moods are in excess and boots are getting restless

The sky is studded with flickering patrician gems
purple cloud is wavering like an impish glossy veil
moonlight’s spilt on whispering woods by heaven’s realms
moorlands are basking in mountain breeze’s blessed sail

dishes you love are served
our table is well reserved

Olive leaves are wringing in luminous slender blue
floral pristine aroma’s emanating from every nook
serene green valley is coaxing the glum spirits that rue
with cornfield’s golden glitter and a sparkling silver brook

violins are playing and candles were lit
jasmines and champagne are all well set

Evening haze’s descending on the verdant mounds
ambiance is dappled with clusters of quails that fill
quixotic tinge is floating beyond the lyrical bounds
precious moments are flying like a fidgety seagull quill

all things are in place
but for your splendid grace

The music’s withering away
I’m alone and can dance no way
it’s an opulent table, but is turning cold
tantalizing night is fast growing old
menu’s losing its flair
curtains are donning a vacant stare
and I’m still sitting in my chair
wishing for the scent of your hair.

Galloping clock is haughty
but your chair is still empty
as I keep on waiting..............
........to dine with you tonight.

a memory

Pink prim rose mottled with shimmering jewels of water
is on the dashboard, longing to be passed on to her hands.
Ring carved out of heart and born to dazzle her finger is waiting on me.
Nothing’s like the unexpected, it becomes a memory taken to the grave
surprised and thrilled she would be, when I say those words on one knee.
And I rehearse them a zillion times as Springsteen sings to none but the brave.

Full faced moon’s looking into my eyes as giggles of stars surround
trees rush past me like caged beasts blowing their tresses along
envious roaring wind hits and falls, jeering my boorish wheels’ rage
I squeeze the rear view mirror again and reassure my suave image.

Iridescent campus lights greet me like castaways out of darkness
my anxious car races at her hostel, down the deserted lanes.
Then I pull the brakes and spin it amid whines of pain of rubber
I drive back into town, to my cold and stony cave.
Behind the shrubbery, I saw her shadow blend in night with another
nothing’s like the unexpected, it becomes a memory taken to the grave.

Parched Streams

With her I ride into spheres timeless and spaces nameless
unwrapping the blindfolded fruit forbidden in Eden.
Burdened with the emptiness of a lie too loud to confess
this page would be torn sooner than it is written.

Clothes woven of arrogant pride are shed in thirst
nakedness shines draped in innocent-but-true skin.
Breath filled bubbles of lust float and burst
sap of wily lips bind fragility with an Iscariot’s grin.

Now, she has to return to him and I to my dreams.
For a moment, I turn back to stop her forever
when her culpable eyes hark back hopes vanquished by the parched streams.
We slide away from each other into the living time, and disappear.

To the Girl that Never was

I’m a small town boy
from the streets of debris
without you, it was too empty

I took a train to the big city
walked around
with shoes soaked in my town’s mud
and sad country songs of the old and dead.
Here, I’ve seen them all
come and go
they were none
just specks in the flow.
Wherever I went in this big city
without you, it’s nothing but empty.

Crossed the continents and seven seas
to the land of plenty.
Those who couldn’t make it
never came
those who could, never remained.
It’s the same old sun on the tattered horizon
and without you,
today is as empty as yesterday‘s dawn.

I closed my eyes and drifted away
a caterpillar, from one hole to the other
I woke up and saw butterflies
repugnant souls transmuted into beauty
I loafed around in gardens of glory
dawdled by the streams of silky sheen
but no one was ever seen
though I heard them yell
for they just went to hell.
My town’s mud is still kissing my shoes
six-string sounds and sad songs sweat through my pores
I think of my small town
and its streets of debris
though I came to paradise
for without you, this too is empty.

Call of Duty

As a five-year-old, I peed in my pants
when my Pa from behind kicked my butt with his boots.
Slaps on my brother’s cheeks were wakeup calls of morn
for his mathematics were wrong.
Nightmares of midnight - the shrieks of my mother
battered for she questioned his immoral adulterous fervor
she cried out my name and called me
for she hoped that I might save her
from the hands of this pain giver
but I did not.....
withdrawn to my corner, I saved my skin from wrath so hot
with a coward’s sweating heart.
Three slave souls imprisoned by life
fed on cuss and curse.
Alas, he sent my brother away
after he got rid of my mother
every night, he’d turn my head the other way
sleeping by my side with a new woman in bed.
And I ran.

I grew up with wounds on my heart
and the bleeding never stopped.
Every night, in darkness, I wake up
and hear her cry
she calls my name again and again
this time they are mere echoes of a bygone pain.

Now I’m strong
an adult.
But time moved on
situations vanished and gone.
Yet, her cry rages in me
strident and deafening.

I discovered where he lives,
uptown by the lakeside.
With a hand gun under my jacket, I drove.
He opened the door, baffled at my sight.
His hair’s white
above folded forehead and eye bags
wrinkled cheeks and sagging chin
bent back and staggered walking.
Gone is his brawn empowered vigor
at my mercy is this old and fading figure.
Heaving sighs, he got dumped in sofa
breathless, I sat facing him
with strange nagging nausea.
Lips on his naked gums are quaking.
I looked into his eyes as he looked in mine,
my hand crept under my jacket
and I held the cigar at him.
His hand shook receiving it.
I ran out to my car
can’t say why I’m hearing my heart beat
loud and clear.
I drove back into the night
without an answer to the cries that await.

Me

As a boy,
when besieged by sorrow
I lost myself in reveries of my soon-to-be youth
- with immaculate daybreaks
tender ray’s caress
dew speckled green leaves
chortles of vivid hued blossoms
by the melodious lissome rivulet
treading the copious meadows
a snug chalet
in still dell’s midst
I laze in her arms on hearth-rug
through the winter mist.

And when I got there
they were never there!

As a man,
through toil and woe
at times as mistletoe
a fragile glass fragment
beneath her high-heel shoe
I see my twilight times
- wafting in placid breeze
sunrise in Swallows’ twitters
butterflies splashed shrubbery
mellowed hazy church spire
as I walk by Cinchona array;
yapping merry old cronies
with fishing rods on waterside.
Hanging vistas of bygone miles
the mementoes on tenacious walls
and sunset on numinous isles
calling flocks of fluttering sails.
By the tepid ingle-nook
in sturdy stoic spirit
I sip vivacious wine
a lonely wight
through the winter rain.

But I dread getting there
for the fear of not finding them there.
Thenceforth, no times remain to dream
no sequel left to be seen

living relentless rude nightmare.

In the Avenue at Six

She is desirable.
I’ve been watching her since school.
Every man’s paradise
a salivating merchandise.
She burgeoned with time
now a buxom dame
who flaunts her youth if in red today
in purple the next day.

She stands on the avenue’s side walk
when the clock strikes six
they pull the cars over with sudden brakes
away she goes into a Bimmer’s back seat
and smiles at me as it zooms down the street.
Sometime in the morn,
he drives her back home
I see the contented look on his face
they all were, who were christened in her embrace.

Every night, I return home
........without her
but tonight, got more dough to be her beau.
There she is, in heavenly blue
silky hair like a water fall
lipstick’s glitter sending a call
her perfume or body odor
fueling my mind’s frantic fervor.
She looks at me with ever seducing eyes
unwrapping a smile out of social disguise
I rush up to her with a hand on my wallet
nerves giving in, for it’s been a long wait
and a Cadillac comes to a screeching halt
only to race away with her,
kicking dirt on my shirt.

I got hands in my pockets
I’m walking back home
......without her
her name is glee
and she is a bitch who wouldn’t sleep with me.

Eyelids

Ostentatious dark heavens sparkle trinkets above my mortal habitat
ephemeral full moon bequeath her grace to the worn out roof’s heart
I glance through ageing casement at the silent fleeting juncture
eyelids shut the scenic moment slithering along the lanes of rapture.
Grand ma shook my shoulder and walked unshackled by wheelchair
Pa trounced his abhorrent esteem, was lighting candles with care
serving the roasted turkey was mom who regained her lost years
my brother is again effervescent with fortune’s bows and spears.
Perplexed at mirror’s revelation of restored corporeal assets
I heard olden amiable voices ascend the depths of interred hamlets
voices grew strident, they were cheers of returning long gone chums
they blathered and gibbered like always filling my home with hums
I shook their hands, cracked champagne amid balloons and jig
sniggering kids were unwrapping the gifts swaying through shindig
still sunk in ecstasy and my eyelids disclose my eyes
uncouthly sunrays peep through casement and pour on the tiles
stepping out of somber bed, I walk my dim morose abode
forlorn but dumb walls greet me, cataclysmic newspaper awaits my nod
silence whines at me while the whimpering time is reluctant to move

I stare at the protracted narrow day, tying my battered shoe.

Come and Gone

Marigold treasures in the meadows enlivened by dawn’s affable pat
tranquil green quills by the night quiver the parrot out of her squat.
Loping across the quaint borough, clambering the lofty boughs
when boyhood wanes like a whisper, lost in its yen for youth’s swift toes.
Bask in summer’s warm cuddle, sail on ornate dale’s springtides
saunter through golden autumn showers, adore the glacial snow rides.
And one dusk alters the reflection in the mirror, visage seized away
resist the twirling winds of sunset, but titivations fade with the day.
Marigold and the meadows decay, parrot wings flap beyond all return.
Gape at unabated vicissitudes in solitude as clouds muster on a plummeting sun.
The day, a blessed memory; the visage, a token of the cherished past
to recollect through the redolent night, for bygones are forever lost.

Winds of Change

I’m still here
yesteryears are gone
I still see
not dreams
but only those my dwindling eye can behold
I still hear
the birds and the flowing waters
they are mere sounds
not quite the melodies they once were
I still walk these paths
and no longer wonder what lies beyond
for I now know they end where they began
I still ask myself
not How?
but Why ?
I’m the same man
though the one in the mirror is not
my old wristwatch is the same as ever
but it’s the times that have changed.
I look at those mountains,
those woods,
and those cornfields;
I knew them all my life
they’ll be there tomorrow
but I’ll have to go.