Tuesday, October 30, 2012


Night butterfly
in a half-lit room
searching for source of
an enlightenment,
entangled in sheets,
revealed sudden wings -
black on white,
an insatiable will
to set on fire
with this shift of power, -
the witch craft?
the star demon,
who devours people? -
she camouflages
in black butterfly
to stay incognito...
in harmony with
a steady unceasing
cicadas choir,
replaced daytime noise, -
feel paradox
of sparkling life!

Image credit: 'Tres Picos 1955 - Salvador Dali' soho-art.com

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Evening cold

Mid fall dress,
puzzled faces,
way up hill
almost done.

Timing quest,
walked the traces
life embossed
in my plan.

Pulled the hood,
squeezed the temples,
focused thoughts
evening cold.

Life unfolds-
way up simple-
if you serve
soul call.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

The loop

a little tragedy
of falling drop,
not mentioning
to die,
but just to get
to point
to reach the floor,
to cover...
the dry with wet,
the thirst with water,-
the weightless worth
of sacrifice
despite the gravity
of core,
when ego - oneness
with a soul...
unceasing willingness
to sate, fulfill,
to be absorbed
with no will,
to be continued
in the loop
of nature...

Friday, October 26, 2012

a cup of tea

soaking tea bag
in the cup of
hot water,
imagine us
catching the
scented star,

stirring inside
with lemon-moon
'what if',
the sour source,
longing to soar,

finding a zest
in every wee
the cover
of cozy escape,

a surreal scenery
beckoned, -
in no time
riding the wave...

Monday, October 15, 2012


Under the spell of gray sky,
falling leaves're rustling...
the gossips of summer
wrap me with cloak
of bombing petards,

somewhere inside me
crying secretly nestling...
touched by fall withering,
splitting apart...

Low swollen heavens
send nimble spy-drops
to track me...
rapidly forward,
mentally weighting the beats

I find the solace:
the voices are fading,
leaves are returning
to fall storybook
for retreat...

Thursday, October 11, 2012

The spark

'Keep your face to the sun
and you will never see the shadows'
~ Helen Keller ~

The day has come
to shake those
pesky clouds
to pull the silver lining
to discover
the purity of novel sky,
vulnerability and depth
of first confession
of true love,
forever touched
the heart, forgotten
to flutter, as if
a newborn butterfly...
an aspiration
all of a sudden,
the alter voice
is breaking up...
the rendezvous lasts
in the silence...of
circulating vibes...
the new dawn spark
enchants my soul
as I push through
the solitude
with a song of lark:
the heart gets arid
and shrinks at all
if doesn't answer
kinder call

Image credit: scenicreflections.com

Saturday, October 6, 2012


Climbing blue hills...
more stories revealed
with hide and seek
moving, appealed
to children inside us,

who like to explore
all different characters
vibrant galore,
but we've been trained
to quash and avoid
the true little voice,
dissolved in the void...

The frisky sunbeam
touches the sky,
we recognize the face
in disguise...
Forgive for forgetting
the truth who we are,
being not us,
not reaching for stars...

Forgiveness prayer
we're chanting today -
the ritual of burning
our past self decay.

Even knowing
the water'll absorb
the all that not scorched -
with ebbs and flows,
we sporadically,
but become better us
not only knowing,
but fulfilling
divine commands.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

The nest

a misty wagon smokes -
migrating clouds send an invite
to blinded sun,
and soon we all -
the passengers of time machine,
rewinded with the seasons
in unison,
accelerated -
the heart beats in the heels
with every breath,
a dove is cooing -
the great adventure just begun...
don't loose your nest!

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Inner Peace

don't live,
they store,-
she said,-
this noise -

They move
from room
to room -
gigantic steps
are killers -
from corner
to the center
with squeals,
swear words.

How can I
help them? -
thought I could...
- by living
peacefully my life...
I love my world",-
she smiles...

Monday, October 1, 2012

a world with no love...

a desert of crunching
sand grains
on the teeth,
mixed with time lost
gray days mist,
newborn cells
in the solitude self,

one long cry
of million rains
filled one big
melting pot,
overflowed by hopes,
dropped in the
black hole of
unknown worlds,

a burnt bowl of
unused flames,
and reveries
of minstrels,
playing flute
on the avenue
of crossing
days and nights,
healing lights,
moved lost souls
to find the way
to fulfill fate,
the life purpose.