confused fresh

Hoofs of a young fawn at daybreak sped

Bright sunlight strained on a lime-sorbet

Nature soothing the cause of life on all-clear

Senses now spins to destinations off-near 

A while ago everything was confused fresh

Qued seasons were unpredictable instead

And then the manner of life for memory's sake

Stale flesh from free range to broiler instead. 

Reticenct  pleasures sentenced to agony's best

Hope giggled in a frenzied child-like zest

Furtive desires from under the blanket peep

As dreams embodying my life undress. 

~ A

Durga

Resplendent pleasure and pain
Festivities in religious ardour
Amulets of Love
Riddled righteous passion
Fragrance of Alistonia
Crazing the lazy daybreak hour
De-greased‎ hides, suedes and Feather
Dhaki rolls the Kathi fervour
Reds smudge hems of feet
Cinnabar brow-smears

Lal-paar tasseled anchals
Durga in her valour
Chakra, club, conch, lotus, arrows, spears,
thunderbolt, trident
SHE is
Still in an eighteen-armed blow
To the two armed Mahishasur..
piercing his heart
Trinkets of blood in the falling
Tiger clawing the wounded-asur
Is breached by the stillness of festivity
Mahishasur Mardini exudes
Shrieks of joy, Sounds of clanking
Conch-Naad, Bells and Verses
Sorrows and Joys are blessings
Crimes of Love bestowing
STILLNESS in a victory hour.....
~ A

Kinetics

The kinetics of Clockwork
A pendulum in full motion
Swinging
Gaze fixed to oscillation
Hypnotic fruitification
Stimulus to its countlessness
Haste............. I find it.
It spins a web
Bringing many collisions to action
I flow in its fulfillment
Smuffed in its admiration
Smothered by its potency
I submit....
It was
Just a wandering thought
Steeped in Love
For your adoration..

~ A

Its an age gone by

It does not touch me now
nor does it probe into
my sense of being.
It does not declare me alive
nor excavate a sensory fossil
from the crevices of day dreams.
It does not lava
the heat from the core
nor does it benumb me
into the hollowness inside.
Its no more a cause of habit
nor does it ask me to asunder
purpose-truths of this shallow life.
It does not call for pardon
nor makes me guilty of my days.
Its not in the passing
nor in the waiting is it
Its an age gone by
and I do not care..


~ A