Non

~
And since when language was first spoken
magic died

the stars wept
because they could not write a song
this sad and this empty

all words--a waste
all words--a neglect

as futile--
as telling a star how beautiful it is
The star? Well, it can only shine back
it is safe
it knows no verbosity

since language was first spoken
all things felt--un-felt
all things understood--lost
all things beautiful--died

all words--a waste
all words--a neglect
all words--an excuse

a bridge to nothingness
~


image: internet

I think about you

I never think about you

I never do

except perhaps when

i am walking through delicious capital roads

on beautiful early summer afternoons

beautiful

shaded with flowers and trees

and humming with breeze

soft and generous

but otherwise

i don't think about you

i never do

except perhaps maybe

when i am happy

am in smiles

with goodness inside

i think about you

you have given me those smiles

but otherwise

i don't think about you

no

i never do

except perhaps

when a warm breeze

brave

touches me gently

on my cheek

and slides down

my neck

like butterflies and dew

i think about you

and things you do

but otherwise

i don't think about you

i never do

except perhaps

when i am awake

or when

i am asleep

or when

i am in wonderment

of all things deep

i think about you

but otherwise

i never do...

image courtesy:flickr

16 December, a day like any

Roses
a few cards
—
get well
avenge
protect
shame
murder
hang
avenge
dinner
clothes
oh wait
avenge
yes
anger
must stop
injustice
avenge
—
cards
in flowery font
and roses
they smell old
but not precious
a few petals just
shying away on a thornless stem
after all
what use is a mere rose,
without a thorn?
—
calm and in grief
in pain and calm
a numbness
calm and pain
but comfort
a hand
caressing softly
love circles on your neck
down your chest
the circles greatly tighten
till they are rough and red and angry and weak
on the jugular
the hold
is not of security
but of threat
—
let it go
let it go
slow
bit by bit
whole
—
they are famished
and you are delicious
you are a lesson
to be taught
and learnt
you are now
a mere grip
a loveless grip
an empty shadow
your body melts
into iron and sweat
and light
dark dark light
a light so blind
it sees
slow
bit by bit
whole
it sees
and knows
that vision
was always this
a black diamond
in dying light
the night owns the diamond
the night knows
—
locked cries
under a blue carpet of water
you cry
above
none can hear
but every single eye
can see you die
slowly and graciously
under a loveless sky
a sky so vast
so giving of shelter
embracing
a loveless sky
is all the shelter
you could get
They saw you cry
They heard
and then what?
They saw you die
afraid
what if?
And then
slow
bit by bit
whole
a decoration
on the street
red and rubid and consumed
—
you are young and delicious and not at blame
chosen for the game
fortune fortune fortune
you are now a name
which no one knows
same–it has always been the same–same.
—
you were
a decoration
on the street
under victorian lamps
and fancy loveless skies
you were
a decoration on the street
and then there were more
in black and red
what? faces?
No–
their clothes, merely
were black and red and wet
with tears?
No
posters, paints, anger, pride
a media byte
some cried
some lied
did they care
did they not see you cry
all this while
for so many while
so many yous’
have they not seen you cry
before?
and die
bit by bit
whole
—
then they
in attires black and white
them.their hands of lead and metal and lust and death
and those with hearts of
black and night
what were they
?
decorations on the street
mere
under loveless skies
decorations on the street

Read 16 December, in Stanza, The Statesman

~
Love.
Is not easy.
It is a dagger
pierced halfway through your throat
when you are still alive.

 Love is
 The pain
 Of a thousand fallen empires
 in your chest

 Love is
 the promise
Of infinite humiliations

Love is
not easy
But Love is
Beautiful!
~

image:
The Kiss,Gustav Klimt

The coming of my love, Rumi.

~
Immortal is this day for it bears your being
You came
To never go back

Immortal is this day which boasts of your being
You are here.
Forever.
For us.
With us.
Beyond us.

Show us, for we are blind.
Heal us, for we are wounded.
Teach us, for we know not.
Love us, for we are sinners.

For your light
For your beauty
For your being

A million salutations
A million salutations

~ Hazrat Maulana Janam Jalaluddin Rumi R.A.
30 September 1207
805 birth anniversary

Always

~
If there is no such thing as heaven
What is it that I see in your eyes?

If there is no such thing as hell
What is it that hurts when you leave?

If there is no such thing as God
Then who is it that I thank for miracles…
And you?

Am sorry, I cannot be an infidel
There is just too much beauty in faith.
~

The Saga of June: A journey in Snippets

He alone makes this happen
Between strangers
He alone makes this heart
ache
He alone makes this mind
restless

This longing

Only He, He alone
disturbs our beingsTo guide us to magnanimous peace

He alone gives us questions
He alone gives us answers

Indeed, He is then Exalted
Indeed He is then All-Knowing
Indeed He is then End-Less
Indeed then, He IS.!
...


We are all bearers of light

Let darkness know this
Let darkness discover us
Let us discover darkness
To discover ourselves!
...


When times are difficult and trying
Beauty is--the only consolation
Faith is--the only way out

Everyday when the sun sets
It leaves you with the promise
That tomorrow
Will be more beautiful than today.
And faith--
Helps you live through the night
No matter how long, no matter how dark

All I can do now
Is pray for beauty
Today
And have faith
In a tomorrow which I hope will be
Ameen!
...

I need you perhaps
So that I can
Write
A poem on You
Why
Must you then
Also exist
Outside my words?
!!!
...


And some days are beautiful
Because they are sad
And because there are tears
And moments so bleak
That even a speck of light
no matter how small
Will warm you
and light up
just that hint of smile
to set things things right
again
But remember
It is okay to be sad sometimes
Or else happy days
would feel alone
And love would
never last

...


Poetry and People
are so similar
essence of each lies
in its meaning
A meaning
born of our own construct
meaning-a different one each day
yet
Poetry and Peopleare so dis-similar
our interpretation of poetry
always enlightens
our interpretation of people
always disappoints
some meanings are then
not destined to be discovered at all
...

Yet another Sunday
A wet sun
hiding behind clouds
Heavy
Heavy with-
last night's mourning
A sun burdened with-
drops of forgotten little diamonds of dew
a Sunday heavywith crumbling memories
of me and you!
...

be grounded
be of the earth
believe me
it is a great place to be
only stars and eyes lined with love
only magic is what you see
be of the ground
and the sky?
what of the sky?when you look below
what do you see
the stasis of destiny
of heartbreak and falsity
of young love accursed to wane
be content my love
be grounded
trust me
it is a great place to be
and when you look up
there will be only stars to see
and maybe me
and maybe we
...


And maybe
I will forget you
Like the sun
forgets the sky
...


How magnificent this
This breaking of the heart
You know
You know that something
Something
Is going to mend it soon
Soon
...


There is no poetry in Love
In love everything is poetry
In love all poets are jobless
In love, everyone is a Poet
...