She walks in beauty

With the gait she decided to walk up till the hill,

Amused she is with thought and free,

This love has come after many centuries to see,

The lady love is kind and to face the God’s light,

With every step she walks and remembers heavens,

Up and with might.

 

I am not betrothed to thee,

Still you welcome me,

And I as a partner would be king,

There is room for lofty wings,

I am kind to thee like wintry dew,

T o come and play but for hours few

 

The upstairs she ran,

Quitting solemn question he went wan,

The answers elope the night,

But the day would not end the fright,

Here is silken  ensemble of the dawn,

Who’s but sick to win the brawn?

 

Hastily she recovers her form,

No need of earthly norm,

Hit the cue less sound,

That postpones milk bathing around,

I  indeed love thee, love for your nectar,

Here is the final reunion I must sector.

 

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A Gift

the day has arisen when the gift is to be brought,

and given not to the ghost of the tree where he lives,

but passionately I remove myself from the God, who

taught the Godly is a forlorn hope that the ghost is on the either side of life,

where she lives and loves a phenomenon called me,

The gift for her is a chance to feel the superior what is negated of love,

I feel the racist dominion of separation, I love thee, I love not,

you still remind of the gift to be given after seasons of separation.

 

 

The Ghost like afterthoughts

On watching life from close distance

there returns a memory of all I had managed behind,

after chaffing was separated, I think again.

to pause and say hello as harbinger of good luck,

or though flesh traded for a six pence or so in a lively market in Kabul,

I return as hero to my homeland,

There is naivety in believing words could do wonders,

and there is complain in words that you sound naive.

 

On the threshold of emotion I beseech to love my lover,

and there is no dearth of emotion but a cabaret dance is,

suffice for notification that indeed I love like a tiger.

 

The lion had fled the jungle only to be caught in the web,

of animal poacher and there is half baked smile to let go,

all the atrocities upon the soul, I am kind and bid a romantic,

silence as to know the universe.

Eye of Love

I am the unhappy yet full blooming,

with resolve of a great mind,

perishing within the body and having soul,

upon drinking, the nectar rises and enchants the sleeping mind,

and docile body follows like the rivulet flowing through thousand strands of hair,

I rest and gulp the holy water,

brought up by her from the Ganges which,

engages the love and the unbending, the ego of the lute,

which on fluttering million hearts play and stop,

with the earthen cold and heartiness of love.

 

I am growing out like a tree having root at the spine,

where sits a torment energy looking for the Guru to,

capture nine skies and military of the planets ,which

ascribe to the Guru and fulfilled deep within relishing the,

earth and her love again. To see through the eye of love.

I Love You

The day you were dreaming about a spire

A holiday reigns the day in amidst the flattering tale of immortal love,

Then lovers like players move through the dim sky lit,

Afternoon and a melancholic tune  rends my heart,

I bake nothing in love nothing so sweet to taste for her,

I am sane enough to build the castle as upon air,

Only to flounder with powerless body moves,

And catch her up with breath and silence is broken,

By her enchanting a mantra, a cat is better for love,

As there is nothing but the mistaken form of love borrows,

Time upon time to say  ‘I love you’

The Goddess loves

With the circular motion about head,

I felt like a king in the lost dominions of love,

there were silent stupas waiting for the fire,

to be unleashed through the mouths,

then I was with a God mellowing my moods,

the love was broken empty shell,

that looses every second game of cards,

and cards were drawn to live the life of,

a loafer lasting through the ages and then,

I must fall silent again to be remembered by Love.

 

I picked up the Canadian Molsen and drank,

wiping from my lips last strains of civilization,

and the blessed by Gods I partook love dosage,

Only to puke again with a healthy sign, the Goddess,

Of Love benign and Kind, a miraculous shine about forehead,

and kissed the earthen mounds of breast as living deity,

would have a life full of dominion and colour.

 

 

The Goddess

We conceive through the eye,

the details in the parchment,

suggesting  a vestibule of love for creation

 

The God sucks besides spaces, roses,

The God blows besides wheel, the whistles,

of love in a deep guttural sense of destruction

 

I am the morbid case of heaven,

where idles the earth in the summer,

and spends spleen of generation in winter