Dedicated to the nameless whom we can only feel amongst us today.

Are poets faces, voice, and words
Are they names, they are books
Are they just languages and verses
Look back just up to Atlantis or Indus
The innumerable races and poets
Tell us that all the poetry of the world
Is creating a GREAT SILENCE
Which every poetry holds in its aftermath
................. to which all poets must proceed.

~ Dedicated to the nameless whom we can only feel amongst us today.

Thankyou Rati Saxena for including the perishing me and my passionate prescriptions for happiness in your list of poetry and in the Kritya Poetry Movement.

I wish you good energy for everything you are doing.

Mirror Time

Reality reveals the new constant
If you hug a rock close enough
To unite the fossil with the living
Hands that feel the surface dig
Ambivalence creates reflections
Mirrors in which the frozen fossil
in a living past sees itself as you
hit a wall in your mirror today
and cannot feel beyond the self.
~
A

Man Room

I was misled by an evening
to believe
that my night
to a room belonged.

When every bird in the sky
had found a nest to rest
a branch to perch
and wrap the evening in its wings.
Snuggling on my bed
cushioned into a blanket
its estrus fit into my breath
filling a haptic gaze into the night
moving from crest to crest
sleep to dreams to wakeful eyes
to early mornings and bird songs again
only to know one day for me will end
in a nest.

~ A

Walk back into LOVE

It is tragic
To walk back into LOVE
Intellectual depravity
unlocks old rooms with stale air
and just for a pinch of shade
or for lust
or merely for survival sake
accept crumbling walls with peeling paint
plaster chipping,
decaying into
effervescence
at the base near the skirting,
the ebony floor
hollowed with termites.
It is disgusting
to enter the rooms, I made
decades ago,
and to step onto their balconies
that lead to the undergrowth of heavens
and not to the fresh air beyond.

It is difficult to hold back
lest the longing splits into
splinters and ambers on which
we burn and bleed,
just because of
lack of caution,
greed
and insipid passion.
~ A