under the street tree

under the street tree
glitter
frozen bits
of dogs pee
.
as they stick
to her little lips
smiling with
the X-mas dream
.
santa lost his way
and so also the wolf
as trees you know

don’t sprout chimneys

.

Here lies santa

dead

here lies
the 1st lie
.
the 1st bribe
putting a price
for being “good”
.
the 1st abdication
by absolute powers
of their accountability
.
the first carrot to conform
first blame on forces beyond
for dead dreams dreamt thru the year

.

My shrink died

my shrink died

in the trench

.

fragments of

his analysis

embedded in my brain

like shrapnel

.

clawed out with

blunt needles

bleeding nails

dreams of death

.

This was triggered by an old post by Anki (http://ankinotion.blogspot.com/ ) Check her Sept 07 archive for "Case study 1515 BSC" --- Great writing!

the stage, us and the dance

we were two

in our own wombs

sitting dormant

like dressed mannequins

.

no smell of life

from this man and woman

no sound of breath

just the stillness of death

.

the throbbing of the restless soul

trapped in the hollow stage

insane with waiting for the call

to break out of this spot-lit cage

.

till the old man's worn out hands

beat the soft slow rhythm

and filtered flavoured strands of light

etching patterns on the frame

.

oh, we took life tottering steps

like dancers on swan-off legs

.

steep desire, pain and anger

on edges of sanity

licking sweet danger

.

dancing for the gods we slay

and the little demons we pray

the nests we break

the tears and joy we fake

.

the truth is the smell of sweat

of dance, swirling mist and dust

the truth is the old mans hands

the deafening silence of the band

.

Sharing

what we shared
warms the feet
with its fur

peacefully
.
while
.
what we did not share
strains to break free

almost breaking

the leash

The menu

for him :

.

fried legs of my mind

to bite with his pint

.

bits of my soul

on tooth picks

for him to nibble

though it makes him sick

.

peeled whole body

just warmed a bit

moving as he like it

to a slow slow beat

.

for you:

.

a lame mind to tickle

before it fully rots

.

same bits of soul

to taste

before it reach

the bin

.

smell of my body

to keep

before it dries up

in the sun

.

The union

the breeze glides lightly

the wines caress your face

etched on the rocks

.

thirtysix buds bloom

around and below your navel

and the valley down

.

my fingertips wisper

sweet nothings

to yesterday's goosepimples

.

the lips move up and around

tracing the sound of waterfall

trapped in the cave

under your breast

.

the nip's in the air

and dampness and sweet smell

of earth after the first rain

and its wetness.

.

and

caged in the mind

the heart flutters

in anticipation of release

!

1st Anniversary of blog--1st post repeat

Life is a breeze and I am trying to grab the scent as it blows…….as one would grab the remnants of a dream before it fades, as one would linger on the look which races the heart beat , as one would etch the memory of the towering mountains before leaving the wilderness……scent comes in wisps…soft as a baby's touch and as pure as its smile…it is fleeting as the smile which touches the eyes, as haunting as the tune long forgotten…the scent of virgin rain on mud, the scent of mist rolling on the lake, the scent of sweat after love, the scent of invocation after the prayer, the scent of happiness as life blows…like a breeze......

=================================================

life continues to blow like a breeze after a year....yipppieee!!!!

7 random thoughts on oneself--prats' tag

one/fun

every thing has a reason

so chill and just have fun

two/true!

loves heights, depths

free fall

but panics in 4ft pool

strange but true

three/free

scared of being owned possesed tamed

scared of owning possessing taming

needs to be

free

four/ loves the stranger

feel suddenly connected

to many an arbit starnger

popping up from nowhere

five/bee hive

mind is a buzz

driving me nuts

thousand and one bees

in a bee hive

six/darkness

loves snakes, waves, creative minds

sensous bodies

stillness of darkness

seven/ hell & heaven

god and devil

are trapped here

kicking the soul to & fro

hell and heaven

Prat (http://emotionalecology.blogspot.com/) tagged me. Pl check her blog...good reading+rules of the tag (taking an easy way out :)

I tag...some of those who touch me as I read:

ra: http://standinginshechem.blogspot.com/

raaji: http://raajii.blogspot.com/

kammommy: http://ooopsmommy.blogspot.com/

anki: http://ankinotion.blogspot.com/

sift: http://sift.wordpress.com/

chrisann: http://walkingcontradiction.blogspot.com/

me and the sea--3

how
you
sailed thru
.
leaving
flurescent
trail
.
on the still waters
of my
mind
.
once touched
never the same

again

.

Diwali

diyas
flame
moths
death
.
dry eyes
damp sky
bursting fire
rainbow blood
.
aroma of hope
ushered in stealthily
fugitive returns home

apologetic of existence

.

lying bare on the floor

to be touched kissed

hugged and loved

silently waiting

.

possess?

discard?

love?

kill?

?

Shoonyata

when the pain becomes
colorful joy
seeping thru goose pimples
.
when the same joy eats
up your soul
peeling raw skin
.
moments of
creation
following
total destruction
.
shaking the dead gods alive
from their slumber
killing those alive
dancing on their ashes
.
pure uncontaminated
bright colorful darkness
caught in
momentary timeless void
deep within
.

a frog, a heart and a few nails

intersections shift and blur
as the breeze blows
.
mind nails it down
like frog on a board
.
amazing that the heart
is throbing still
.
have the nails
begun to dance

?

me and the sea---2

the sea-serpent
in calm waters

.
head still

and smiling

.
as
its coiled body
caresses the green darkness

deep below

.
bringing alive
some long dead and decayed
killing in its hug
some alive and pulsing

.
searching feeling loving learning
the depths

all

the time

.

me and the sea---1

twilight
.
when
the dark princess
.
forces herself
deep inside
me
.
pulling
my gut
inside out
.
for sky to reflect
for
the world to see

Vacation

the wound up
clock
will let go
the spring
.
time
will lie
shattered
all over
.
covering words
yet to be
written
.
the sea and ship
distant lands
blue mermaids
beckon
.
will be back
and rescue
the words
unlock the comments
.
bye till then

Nursery Rhyme-Catcher in the Rye

catcher in the rye
wearing purple tie
watching life go by
asking why why why
.
catcher in the rye
dancing with great joy
hiding a heart which cry
but refusing to lie
.
catcher in the rye
eating pudding n pie
planning how to flee
kiss the world bye bye
.
catcher in the rye
a mirror hung so high
god seeing his own eye

just now, you cant die!

.

Waiting for the snakeman

the sun climbs
but the breeze still chills
the sunflower turns its back
& looks down the westward track
.
blue green butterflies
sprout from the shadows
dance to hidden melodies
& strips off the colors
.
waltzing in the darkness
that creeps up the westward path
like mist moving in oceans depth
as sure and soft as the snakeman's touch
.
the air turn dark, as dark as heaven
as sharp as desire waiting to burst
as black fantasies taking wings as a raven
as wild & cold as the snakeman's heart
.
the darkness hides the pulsating rhythm
which dances with my rising fear
and at the tune of his magic hymn
flips me over, all longings bare
.
my little toe tickled by his darting tongue
like butterflies dancing on the edge of my soul
while some small thing inside gets ready to die young
pushing small pins into this little doll
.
raw feelings slither & slip as he glides in
his slits eyes as clear as pure sin
& i touch and taste the sweet snake smell
pink moisture turns purple wet as emotions swell
.
will the fangs be bare, will today he dare
or will they stay sheathed, will he spare

.

butterflies tell me

what says my soul

?

You, me and the stranger

soft looks

and

tender silences

.

the stranger

who

creeps in

between us

.

i love

your trying

to hold him

back

.

but he

slides in

and

i'm scared

.

Creations

a line across
and it was horizon

a circle and dots
made sun and birds

few shades of gray
and there were clouds
.
and life
was breathed in
.
the sun set
birds flew home
clouds rained out
.
life
hangs upside down
suspended
in the void

trapped
in the closed

sketch book
.
death
roams free
meanwhile
.
inspiring
new
creations....

me, you and the crowd

i can see
your tentacles move
like snaky thoughts
in the crowd
.
intensely seeking
to enter
me
filling
my senses
my pores
.
but

.
i have kissed
your woman
and sucked out
your smell
your taste
the fear
you ejaculated inside
.
so I can see
the luminous presence
of your shadow
without
the hidden body
.
as I dance around
the swirling
strands
of you

.

scarring many

in the crowd

.

collateral

damage

.

Black widow

i plucked

the bluebird's song

with the hook of nagging memories

to fill the clefts

in my mind

.

i trapped

the smell of erotic dreams

by blowing smoke rings

to trade for

a peep

into your heart

.

there i caught

a spider cheating the one she loved

making love to another

and eating him up

.

still i scoop out

your racing heartbeat

into an ice bucket

to serve chilled with wine

for you, me and him

.

who would you love

who would you eat

.

who would you cheat

to love

who would you love

to eat

?

Your mind, my body

my body
yearn
search
grope for
your mind
.
to touch
caress
respond
to its movements
.
as your body
demand mine
in sacrifice

in return

God, who?

as I read
raaji’s blog
somewhere I saw
thru the smog
.
that a few
little girls
just got sold
.
a school boy
with a gun for a toy
shot his buddies
really and truly
dead
.
and my turn
is next
as we gang rape
the earth
again and
again
.

thankful

.
god who?
me
and you

.

and what we

be

===================================================

Triggered by the post "I thank you, Lord" by Raaji at her blog:

http://raajii.blogspot.com/ (one of my favourites :))

Our Meeting

we are two
points on a circle
touching
but facing
away
.
walking around
on its sharp edge
to meet
.
while
.
we could have
just
turned around
and hugged
.
or
.
is the meeting
just an excuse

for the journey?

Penetration

It is just
that
I dont like
snakes, lizards
scaly hairy reptiles
.
creepy crawly
things
thoughts
.
slithery sounds
sticky feel
.
probing touch
.
intrusion
into
my being

Restless

stillness of the mind
wrapped tight in foggy thoughts
.
heavy islands of garbage
floating without a ripple
.
a strand of soul
leaps from the depth
.
spraying a fistful
of goosepimples
.
stillness on the surface
waves in the heart

.

no one can

see

Mushroom Lamps

in pairs
they light up
dark sticky air
every morn you drive
.
white bulbs leaving
dark sockets
on mutilated faces
.
connecting to yours
scared and hiding
behind dark glasses
.
rising slowly
floating high
silky white light
on stinking air
heavy with guilt
dense with
anger & fear
.
step on the pedal
kill the bastard
shatter the lamps
out of the sockets
.
before they break free
roam thru our dreams
filling the night

with scary white light

.

As I am

as i am
what you see
.
as i am
not what you see
.
as i am
what you feel
.
with me
and
away from me

.

Harry Potter and I

the scar twitches
and the head aches
the soul peers to see
the dark moon in the well
.
the cold voice
fills the head
voices touch
from
the other world
i dwell
.
where
the magic flows
with the deft wand

.
manipulation power
subtle dominance
intensity that kills
emotions in the fetus
and feed the snake
in its endless slither
.
why need
the duel end?
.
whither again the joy
of sucking the fear
and feasting
on the agony
of a trapped soul?
.
those few visions
of a very real world
applaud the duels of
the living the dead and
yet to be born
.
lifting the being
beyond
good, evil
and
the ugly

.

for a fleeting

glimpse

of the elusive

whole

.

Rain--4

rain
wet
slippery
smooth
probing
firm
touch
lightning
shock
black
out

Femininity

a flower hanging its head
shamed by its scent
.
moon hidden in clouds
guilty of the light

.
stream gaging itself
scared of the laughter
.
my feminity shed
trampled and buried
.
no shame no guilt no fear

.

Rain---3

.................

rain
acid
stinging
the eye
forcing a tear
for
the dead tree
.
burning
the probing tongue
to cry out
now
for
all the burnt fuel
.
chilling
the cold heart
in anticipation
of next year
and beyond

.

Rain---2

night walk
beach
puddles
on the sand
in the mind
still waters
don’t
run deep
yet
trap

straying moon

.

Rain--1

drenched nest

smashed eggs

searching flight

accusing cry

rain

cant drown

Wild

Wild flowers

on untamed wines

blooming like goose pimples

on threads of thought

.

wild cry

of the startled bird

bursting the silence

like forbidden thoughts

.

wild streams

on rocky slopes

laughing in ecstasy

long forgotten & buried

.

wild stirring

of the soul

slowly shaking the being

and beyond

.

Upside-down Mushroom

upside down

no

downside up

.

better to see

your dirty feet

than

your smirky smile

.

easier too

for the pain

to drip down my tongue

.

as I lick up

the coins

you drop

Unsaid

unsaid

my love for you

lie trapped inside

.

its hairy legs

tickling the heart

as it covers my mind

weaving

ugly, sticky webs

Wassup?

my mind stays in a duplex
down is cream walls and pastel shades

.
upstairs is a bit more complex
Kafka's roach and Machiavelli's prince
rehearsing the script i wrote
before being eaten by 3 men in a boat
.
the world's stage is down
the minds plays' staged up
oh its tough, but its fun
and no one knows wassup :)

.

Missing the snakeman

moon light through the window
gives life to the blind’s shadow
lifting itself
to a sensuous dance

.
pitter patter raindrops
incessant drumming of random thoughts
dampness in the air, tiredness of the spirit
a shed skin somewhere, lying soaking wet

.
fragrance of raw flesh
brought by the roaming cloud
stirring hidden longings
rising slowly like the snakeman’s hood
.
the rain stops
as the moon sleeps
and stealing back the fragrance
the cloud moves
.
knotted feelings untie,
as the snake uncoils somewhere
.
the mind lets go
sleep creeps in,
but the heart lingers….

Kiss of life

I would have your body

rather

.

what use your mind

which plays war games

with

stinking corpses of reason

.

or your soul

perched on a tree top

waiting to pounce

on the passing god

.

keep your mind in the fridge

to chill

and drop your soul in the letterbox

to god

.

come, let me start loving you

with a kiss of life

.

The Wind and the Sea

today I hold your hand
today I walk with you
.
today i hold your hand
as the waves hold the wind
so close but not clinging
so far but fingers kissing
.
today i walk with you
not as shadow to a body
but as fragrance moves with memories
as images move on melodies
.
today I hold your hand
today i walk with you
today i smile at the same sunset
which paints a glow on you
.

still
free to float with the waves
free to ride the breeze
free to bathe in the stream
free to kiss the sunlight
.
with no chains and norms
with no whys and whynots

.
yet the rocks changing a bit
with the caress of each wave

and the beach made a bit smoother

with each kiss of the blowing breeze

.

God @ Thiruvannamalai Parikrama

next to her
the trees were young
.
the skin rough as barks
weathered by age and hunger
.
she walked the night with me
no I walked the night with her
.
she took in my pain
thru her blistered feet
and smiled it out
shaming the moon a bit
.
and on her dark shoulder
soaked with smelly sweat
I found God
peacefully sleeping

.
secure
and with out fear

Mushroom Manager

get them

break them

drug them

bond them

scare them

F them

.

break them more

drug them more

scare them more

F again

and again

.

the fear

the pain

the anger

.

the bond

the love

the joy

.

you

have never

known

.

Joy

paint the little baby bum
with a red smiley
.
eyes with long lashes
on each side
.
long curvey smile
bridging across
.
lines broken and smudged
coz of giggly tickles
.
the world disappearing
into deep laughing eyes

Visiting you @ home

cold solitude

smooth as green granite

.

clinging memories

dangling on faded frames

.

aromas of the past

creeping out of old recipies

.

sticky patches of depression

spreading like green fungus

.

stabbing flashes of yearning

lighting up your smile

.

a bubble waiting to be burst

by soft touch, breath or look

.

may I?

To she who wants to be the sea

woman,
be the sea

but have you
known the wind

gently caressing the sea
to roll her hips in waves

tormenting her with ecstasy
to make her roar and destroy

bringing her the flavour
of songs of the desert
wrapped in the scent
of a lonely little flower
who shared his bed
and still stood tall

Lulling her to sleep
with stories of spirits
who put him in a bottle
for their dead to sip
as they roam the peaks
in the mind of the walking dead

so have you
known the wind?

and have you
shown the wind

not your waves
your smell of salt and fish
not your moves
your dance of mind and flesh

but have you
shown the wind

your bright dark depth
songs made of colours
scent of gentleness
so very intense
and the power to smother
volcanoes that erupt?

have you
taken him in a bottle
stolen from the spirits
deep down inside for him to see

the tentacles of octopus
painting tattoos on your thighs
with distilled pain of the world
brought to you by the rivers?

woman, would you be
the real sea?
would you at that moment
break the fragile bottle?

.

Orphaned Mushroom

when they found the orphaned me

took half a leg as finders fee

now the traffic light is the best to beg

hopping around on a wooden peg

.

sticky threads shot from bloodshot eyes

noose out your guilt thru cracks on thin ice

.

at night dark desire burns

both ends of the body takes turns

seals all holes

to trap the demon

.

ride him up the mounting pain

reach out to touch sweet cold rain

where there is no fog nor fear

colors of silence speak so clear

.

I touch the silence and know just why

there is music in the rainbow in the sky

and I am not you, I am I

.

pity this corpse with a pout on painted lips

trapped in a coffin with alloy wheels

.

babe, will you rise as the sun set

should I drive a nail thru your chest?

The year of the Pig

time moves

on wavy lines

blurring lifetimes

and universes

.

tie the pig

to the racing light

let it drag

or run without a fight

Hampi---World heritage site--12 to 15 th Century

thoughts bounce on the rocks

and time flips back

moonlight on smooth solitude

reflects cracks where the dead hide

.

heart beats with the old drums

roots weave thru trampled dreams

hands rise to claw the sky

strangle the breeze and ask why?

Mind Control

TV, cable and billboards

laptop video and ipods

.

push, squash & re-do

the mind like mashed potato

.

the hot new liquid chip

blue green and cheap

implanted in the brain

will flush the mind down the drain

.

but the soul flies free

with photos and poetry...:)

===================

This got triggered by the post on Morgana's blog

"control mental versus lavardo de cerebro"

check out http://morgana-atravsde.blogspot.com

great poetry in photos !

As The Year Falls

the act waltz to a close

just as lights fade and curtain falls

to mark the end of the year's play

yet the applause lingers to stay

.

the heart is so full

of the part played so well

within the script and feel

and the directors' spell

.

yet a few times straying out

as the soul yearns to break out

wanting to change the lines and cast

go back and modify the past

.

still the urge to keep playing

many a role that keep unfolding

at work, at love, as a friend

while the act and truth closely bind

.

much after the dusk falls

and shadows climb on granite walls

the cast and the world gone to sleep

weariness on mind and body creep

.

look into myself in the mirror so deep

and smile at what is true and what is not

.

twinkling darkness in the eye

viels restless dance of a firefly

.

peel off a bit of paint

tear off a bit of mask

.

tape together the New Year look

am ready for the next act :)