Submission

You're the queen of mie inner kingdom,
Only you get to reign over mie gold...
Just let me rest in your arms,
As rests mie allegiance to your soul

Picture Courtesy: Google Images - Gustav Klimt 'Kiss'

Time

i'm as young as the first ray of the sun

i'm as ancient as a civilization extinct

i'm as true as a little river on its run

i'm as spurious as a fallacy's instinct 

i'm as attached as the womb to a foetus

i'm as distant as an orbit to the comet runaway 

i'm as alive as affection animus

i'm as deceased as a phoenix's birthray

Picture Courtesy - dafrizell.com & Tarr Daniel

Tales Within, Tales Untold

stories that murmur
vulnerability of desires,
and stories that whisper
sweet old mockery
of dreams intangible...

in a castle, claustrophobic --
once who used to rule
destinies, fantasies and affections
is left a commoner, a pauper dethroned...

i'm too pricey to be pitied
i'm too old to be owned

Stumble

i shouldn't have fallen for you in the first place...
bt then again, had it been a calculated step --
why would they call it a fall...

before the idiocy could restore itself
mie invisible wings have had already
set sails in your breeze
and mie senses were lost
like a toddler in the woods
giving in unknowingly
to the tantalizing lure
that was perhaps owned by someone else...

you're too true to be owned --
the one, from whom the flowers borrow their colors
and the birds owe their songs
and the hopeless romantics draw fodders;
she can't be owned, i thought stupid

yet the late realization dawns upon me and i feel
i shouldn't have fallen for you in the first place...
bt then again, had it been a calculated step --
why would they call it a fall...

Desert Rain

the ochre of the sands was a gift 

from the rain shadows they said;

they also said the infertile sands

could only taste the grains of salt.

yet, i was bound to be fallen...

blame it on the twinkle of her eye

or the tantalizing lure of her lips so sultry -

despite her choices, prior reservations 

or even the bond with another man,

the sudden bringer of mie joy

also brought along the sly sunken storms and 

affections so arid for mie heart...

and, i kept thinking -- 

sometime somehow the love will sing

and bid a farewell kiss to the long disdain

someday somewhere just the two of us

will drench n dance in the desert rain...

life resonated the sands of time.

and the clock stood still 

in the everlong quest for an oasis

and the longing chase for a mirage so blissful.

just as the clouds could never befriend

the 'pure sister of the ocean' and kept away

yet staring and denying the concerns to the self...

the rattlesnake in mie conscience forgot to sleep,

taken unaware and unknowingly, kept storing 

the green venom on the tip of its dry tongue

as it waited, perhaps for the last kiss

incapable of fighting the trapped heat in the sands...

and, i kept thinking

sometime somehow the love will sing

and bid a farewell kiss to the long disdain

someday somewhere just the two of us

will drench n dance in the desert rain...

life rejoiced the dusts of fall.

and the loner's fake attachment to his loneliness,

doped in the intoxicating whiffs

of the prickly pears and brittlebush scrubs...

the routine rambles in the cold of the moon

killed the dreams of the rustle of palm leaves,

and the tinker ringing of the neck-bells

mixed in a symphony of camel bleats 

and the childish howl of a coyote pup at a distance.

like the trust of the lonely bird migrating across the dunes, 

to perch on the saguaro when it needs to rest its wings,

the indomitable craving does no die...

and still, i keep thinking

sometime somehow the love will sing

and bid a farewell kiss to the long disdain

someday somewhere just the two of us

will drench n dance in the desert rain...

A Wrong Call

it wasn't that, to fall was not mie trait
i've had tumbled times before...
just this time alone, i bet to deal
to attempt a false no to the truthful lure...

Delusions

just another of the many aimless wanders

amidst the crowd of unknown faces and

dodging the envelopes of familiar whiffs

and untrue attemps of hearing oneself

- the songs of the soul

then the neon glows and the thunder beats

of the starless party nights and

succumbing to the dogmatic conversations

just to sympathize the nerves in spirits

- the clutters of the conscience

the end of a nightmare and slumber's farewell

with choir of the darkness beside the window

flirting with the lazy lonely crack in the pane

and kisses of the sinking mercury in the breeze

- the rejoice of a day's prologue

the envious ecstasy in the chosen mundanes and

the cold crimson's race to the beloved abattoir

prancing hapless to the zest of a loner's love

just another of the many ambitious wonders

- the denials to the self