Maiden Song

The beautiful sound errupted from the vale

a dancing maid took to the eyes with storm

bulging her eyes she crossed with the starry lover

who kept on singing the song of forsaken lore

Now she called upon the distant maid

her partner in the silly shove of potato crop

they were potato eaters now groping for more

love and love upon castles built in the air

Longing for her dreams, she danced lightly on her toes

as silently he played the dulcimer only to abandon

the song and the place in favour of mountains maroon

a galore!

 

 

 

 

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A momento

I have a rhythm that blinds
the light falling from the sun
cut off into half like the melon
that I had put aside with pride
I would feed her with delight
and carefully nudge the body entwined
in a whisper,I hush the room
and bending upon the shadows
is the sunlight fixated upon the marble
stones where is the God? then
In a loose heaven off the north pole
on the dawning haze that I
open the door into a blazing day
hardly rubbished by time.
My time has been mend by the clock
on the wall. Here is the bend in
time and space and the empty room
is the place where all meet to forget
A tango!

what is love?

Two souls wait for each other like hunchback of Notre Dame wait for the evening gloam

Each bitting the web of time in its own way to merge love and beauty alike in equal measure

Morroco was a distant shore in those days where a painter would learn thousand stars stripped on to the canvas

And a muse of Montreal dreams chase the evening clouds out into the dusty roads till soaking wet in rain

What is love then? To pent up in rain, or stars, or dusty roads or each other then

to wait for nothing in the mildew thoughts of the mountains, to give away a part of oneself as the one soul speaks up

the silence in wooing the other for nothingness!

A Visitation

Being on the Saturn is not a dream but a visitation

that comes and stays with the solemn silence of

meditating upon human soul that is on a flyby

to the universe which is the call for a wine bubbling

with fishes upon the seas of imagination

there is nothing more, nothing less than the echo of heart

I must surrender to you the day when I had left for

like Cassini space probe to know the silence of the universe

and come back by the providence of the wisdom.

To know your heart is the hisotry of love science.

The Mind Maker

The dandelions projecting into space

as I pick a diamond from the heap of sand

and turn about to say the love is a forsaken

game of hide and seek on the north Prairies

and win the heart as a rake to taste the wine

in the abandonment of soul and body with pride

What burnt was the heart bent on making love

As there is no one who participates in the life of

a rakish soul experimenting with oodles of love

the projections of Mercury in the sky forbid nothing

that could be the gateway of civilization, betwixt

the earth bounces back on the trajectory of love

Only if Juliet is married to her vow of keeping up

silence when challenged to love anything other than

the Romeo!

The Love Face

The winds were high and strong

the will mere a penny’s worth and oblong

I turned to the doctor who saved love

from dying as the soul was consumed and lying

She with feeble hands held high

the resolve to stay with might

whatever the fraction of love remained

I whispered a halo summer’s song

and she looked with hope and growing

beyond a distance into the rhythm of the night

the night surged and culminated on her pillow

as a prize fight that brought a pence and a day

till the day grew calm and in the mirror I saw

the flying moon as if cut off  from the strings of love

and I fell on to my face on the pavement crying for

a soup van and the paltry food; she was alright and

like a sun of her own very bright!

The Ship deck

There is no outlet of love in these repugnant days

she bids hello to see if the tower in the east sees the ship

on the receding line of loveless but settled speck of a dip

of the hearts which leap though in short squirts leaving

behind nothing but a whimper with parting waters

 

Nothing catches the fire on the wire to the coast

saying the gold digger pirates choose not to bring

chaos to the otherwise calm and hushed wind doing

the circles of circus on the tapering deck that calls

for the noteworthy dance from Spanish flamingo!