it’s all very cool and plain
   lest you come out and complain
you are frozen in some past
    this moment is all that remains

in myteries and madness
   comes a point of  history unstained
like a rule of chekered game
    there are pieces lost and gained 

play the dice or stick to the lane
     tackle the problem, small or main
the carvan has run past the times
     carry on, never mind the stain

sweeping smoke
looming large
the world
 on the float
to take the charge
a distant time
an unknown land
all getting filled
the earth the sand
rituals and prayers
evolving through ages
carrying the mystery
of minds and of mazes
amidst forest and fears
the cascade that clears
in loony lanes
 and silent spaces
the footprints emerge
 one traces
to the secret confines
of  divines
in another time
till another crack expand
to grow
  and become
 another world so grand…

expand and explore
go beyond

when you have reached the goal
all along cherished
shaped by dreams and desires
crafted by patience and persevearance
sheer load of dogged determination
hard work and cool perspirations
long days amd long nights
expand and explore
go beyond
a little more

when you are lying in the dust
failing each move in innovative falling ways
not knowing what to do
luck not coming your way
you easier than ever to sway
no willpower and heart to carry on
when the world seems lost
come back all in store
expand and explore
one last time
once more
go beyond
a little more

face the cruel joke
smile regardless of the encore
it’s not about winning or losing
victory and defeat
being and becoming
it’s about the spirit
of solemn
of jouney of  minds and deeds
to carry on forward regardless of failures
where faith diminshes
and magic stops working
when wise advise otherwise
when others know more of you
when no points you need to prove
when the world is not waiting for you to move
just turn around
surprise yourself
go beyond
expand and explore
a little more

surfing the land
drunk and dead
with love and remembrance

walking the lane
this way ahead
seeking your fragrance

breaking my head
over dumb and trifle
with so much of worldly prudence

knocking on your door
tired,  ready for trial
pardon me for my absence

sailing on high sea
some wind in the hair
losing the meaning of distance

searching for substance
little more of knowledge
the world marvels at my ignorance

making the point
it’s like this and that
muddled in paradox, what is of essence

revolving in cycles
it is all coming back to me
the deception of each compelling instance

learning to just learn
the times wait for me
passing on just messages, no guidance

talking to you
just for one last time 
hoping to get back to the world of silence

rhythm is the song
    with practice very strong
right notes, a little long
    all rights, no wrong

each step is mystery
     of the repeated history
the road to your door
    is filled with suspense galore

chiselled are the curves
      sultry strokes all deserves
losing out all senses
      holding on the failing nerves

some float is in the air
     come it’s time to have an affair
run away to some far land
    or let’s hide forever somewhere

the world a canvas of colors
      wave a wing to bring the rainbow
 let me drink a little more of life
      in the end bloody cuts like a knife

melange is the mood
     crimson has been blued
 few waves of seeping memory
      forgotten long crudely

day, night and each moment 
     i move on and remain stagnant
is it the weight of my thoughts
     or signs of some brilliant spots

bounce me off the corner
      i will be a warrior
  shooting arrows in the sky
    carrying questions why n why….

………….meadows green
               vast
        and clean
          far unseen
      breeze
          on the prowl
           raindrops
                       not so foul
    the smell
of village dusk
        or was it
                 an overdose of musk
   clouds 
watercolors of black
       flowing away
               in hurrying pack
the grass
         clean and tall
   not so smooth
                   to stumble and fall
 the view
        uphill
              of lines of pine trees
    the bowl of earth
          filled
                with pristine beauties
  cows and buffaloes
           scattered all around
     there was
         some heartbeat
             and no other sound
   a vast
      open land
            amidst jungles 
                  beyond highways
                  no soul
                          to be seen,
                           so far
                                 from the world,
                                     yet it stays
       the lonely space
            till
              the end
                of the horizon
           rising to
                   be a mountain
                     with the sight
                             of an ocean…………

     
  

mountains are the dreams
steep and tall
so easy to make one fall
reality is forlorn ground
forever bound
damp and sound

romancing the mountains
would take its toll
guts of iron
to rock n roll
the conquerer happen to have told
‘you never conquer the mountain,
you only conquer yourself’

oh, that would make me a mountain
some rise of a mole
yet not just enough
to embrace the soul

mountains rise and float
mountains cover and coat
mountains become the dreams
mountains I will have to chase
mountains will be my days
mountains shining with waving blaze
mountains to become my passionate maze…

leave for once
the point
 of no return…
pull the trigger
till the bullet
 is undone….
shoot yourself out
of pieces
to become one….
on the edge
there is
 conscience….
beyond,
a vacuum…
of abstract…
floating
to become…
the very reason…
of existence…
it’s about time
you chose
not the obvious,
but
the one
which in picture…
is the silent
lonely road….

uphill
or downhill?
can you
 feel the slope,
here you come
and then vanish
wonder how
i keep pace
when
 you just elope?
it was all
very reasonable,
or was it fit
to be in scope?
someday,
you’ll grow up,
grow up
and mature
when you would
 take it all
that’s my hope
and till
that moment comes
i must learn
 to cope
any height
any edge
any slope
uphill
or downhill
falling free
or hanging
from the rope…..

blank pages sweat and
dried inks drink
the emptiness of mind,
punctuated with
engagements trifle and critical ones

the ideas can’t crystallize yet,
for it’s not baked
in the den of conscience
or wards of extreme sensibilities
criss-cross of existence

pleasure and pain swapped themselves,
have merged now in paradox
the feelings are all mixed up..
living amidst so much of insanity,
will someday the sanity be labelled madness