Ode to Epigrams

 

The Sun also rises

So says the Epigraphs

The fragments of Sappho

 

Lost to funny history

Pithy saying, clever last wishes

Give me liberty, dreams and poise

 

For wisdom in brevity

This world is blind to the

Causes of her true happiness

 

If life were fair, art would not rejoice

In the disbelief of suffering

The aphorisms of despair

 

Axioms, Hakiu, sermons of sentience

There are no couplet daffodils left

Only perhaps epitaph tweets

 

That go unread in the hoodwinked hours

Of our celestial clowning

And commonplace anonymity

 

Where to err is just, and to fail is to incite

Our soul to rest from brilliant heights

To put on the puns of last resorts

 

Insult the world before she revels her riddles

The night is young, the days are old

The Sun also rises and a quote feels divine

Here’s another epigram, here’s another universe.

Grazing Consciousness

 

Each day feels like the day before death

As if dying were unusual anyways

The pesky landscapes dinged with light

How they seem to know the last worlds

 

Mimicking the last words with recognition

It’s on that day that we realize fully

The funerals of memories and attachments

It’s all been paid in full with experience

 

Each day these wonderful things

Turn to tragedies, and we hunger to

Remake ourselves into people more original

But living, like the taste of salt

 

Was ironic and filled with little moments

Of self-preservation, instinct, betrayals

Meanwhile the emotional experience

Never seemed to anticipate satiety

 

As if the heart knew past sensory addictions

Or if the soul had measures that our minds could not see

It was death, liberty and life that led us on

Keeping part of the bargain in blueness

 

And the comparison with the greenness of

All things that seemed younger than us

I can barely permit myself to yearn any longer

Like Russian music, it’s a vast unravelling.

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Perihelion Interior

 

O exhilaration and exhalation this is my madness

My delight, my intuition of unknown substances

With the sad splendour of helplessness

 

I will be reborn soon, into a new body

With an experience as pure as this

Peace stands with the variables of brilliance

 

We do not know how to accept grace

The transparency of our finite thoughts

The immutable facts of our disintegration

 

Death is an embrace of something cosmic

I do know struggle against her cold neck

There is a motion of silence that spills music

 

And I feel it growing like a being

In me beneath the weight of spirit and matter

I am a joy that knows all creation there

 

My hope is not my own but I partake in life

Momentum, a voice of at the edges of oblivion

Where meaning was all the smiles we had

 

They were metaphors, and women, and sunshine

And that’s all the gladness I possessed

That’s the beauty that possessed me and it was short.

Burning in a Broken Sun

The sun is a country where I spent
Loneliness, like it mattered, like it was a substance
I held my own hand from the inside

Dropping turquoise tears of the silent kind
For speaking was not something I do well
I don’t know charm and schemes

Evading the point of redness, I move on
Like a nomad without a place in society
To which there are no wounds or tragedies

Only days raw with the agony of inevitabilities
I did not accomplish my own truth
It swallowed me like a youth wasted

The greatest tragedy is not to live
My poverty was the inexperience of freedom
My poverty was the heartache of rejection

There was nowhere in nature where I could exist
Free from the tyranny of a final dreaming and a total dream
I was myself, a speck of rainbow dust in a cosmos
Of color and I was on fire, and my life was burning.

After Profiteers

Exultation is in the going
The inland soul flees time’s superficiality
We are nomads, then
In deep eternity and

The powerful machines are coming
My brethren have take to cities
Flooded the seas with their discarded wealth
But wealth is not what it once was

Profit is for dying eyes
And hearts that are not awake
Paradise is not an ownership
It is a freedom and a delight

I never spoken with God
But I saw her face in creation
Revived and renewed in a thousand eyes
I felt the novel agony of a lost humanity

So bemused and so conquered by suffering
Taken from men who war for their pride
I will not exalt in the smallness
Of my life, I will live it finely

With women, who understand me
And roses, as grateful as I
Lost among the crowds, I will
Enjoy my difference, and remain

A peculiar traveller of what comes and goes
Curiosity, that’s the only name
I care to pronounce.

But With a Fraction of the Love

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve felt my life

In the murmur of a bee

And felt all my tears

 

In the eminence of a nest

And the daffodils blew color

Covert as April, or candid as May

I took my time to age and my time

Was plenty, in the solitude

 

Of antiquity, forgetting for answering

Only questions, guided me

At the breaking of the day

 

Where golden drops spawned

Longer looks and deeper searching

All for something immaterial

There is a flower which no longer blooms

It’s in my heart or should I say, it was

 

It’s gentle romance led me on

In the chivalry of my subjective warmth

Where I was not alone, nor humming birds left

 

The measures of days were not my smiles

My splendour was meagre, my heart

Was the moistness of oxygen

In your lungs, the breath that kept you sane

When life was a tyranny of choice until

 

There was none left and freedom hung

Like a low hanging fruit, of what our lives had become.

 

For you

 

I have craved the taste of your skin
For what feels like centuries, and I am
The evolutionary urge of sunbeams permeating
Soul and brain and movement
I am human being, hungry for immortality

Your lovely body is my youth’s rite
I pace hungry for the cherishing of a lifetime
Your hot heart, nearly too precious to hold
How can I serve you better, my dear?
I have worked starving just to have you

By my side, for a few mortal years
And I am a puma on the barren of
The rough anonymity that separates our lives
I’ve been a hunter and a digital firebird
Just to get a few inches closer to your life
I have desired through life-plans of ambition

And I have been silent to the failures
That must be endure, just for a few moments of bliss
I have felt the light that rises in your smile
And in your delicate form, I have felt

The lessons of history and sacrifice
The language of aroma, the stuff of hope.

First Snow

There’s music in the first snow
Like the foam of Seas, it’s ethereal
Letters of rock and water to Woman
To Man, a sub-music of the blue
Skies and clouds and seas

It’s the gulls of the cosmic rain
Variations on what winter means
The death of ease, the struggle for comfort
Unless in darkness, you find yourself?
We stepped over icicles of white

We felt it in our breath, sang our songs
It is cold to be forever young
And inside we are still so young
Sun-bleached are we not, we remember
The feel of winter on our laps

A humidity in the back of our throats
The jaded hope that this too will pass
It’s a faith of nature’s cycles that’s for sure
There’s music in the first snow
And release, release from so many things.

When Nature With Rubies & Stars Pelteth Me

When the night is almost done
And we have walked a life of years
Dark and light, with uniforms of snow
Steps through rain and dimples ready

To face the morning’s mist
When body is in her frightened hour
Do not be afraid, soul
Spirit that shines in smiling procession

For change bears her faithful witness
There is no fight in the Great Spirit
She’s just there, in peace and surrender
A vacancy of meditation’s ambush

On heights of piercing wild
Where stars are free above the winds
When the day has come
To look inside your self

And silence like an ocean rolls
I will hear the voice of Time
And she will fling her speech in prayer
And all beauty will unscrutinize

For nature is the bright majority
She guides the continual crowning
Of my steps, and takes me by the hand
A feminine onset of eternity
In my blood, and health in my shared oxygen.

The Focus of my Little Prayers

I started early, took my dog
And visited the sea of poems
There in the basement of dreams
I found the lilacs staring back at me
I was impressed by the melody

How the sea withdrew in felicity
There was no turning back, it was set
The moon waltzed above my head

And I like mortals swooned
On the page of my youth
Where slow-motion still loved
The quietness distilled
From silence of the dove

And the summer made me beautiful
Inside, to protect me from the dying
Change was enhanced in song

Through sequestered scattered afternoons
And I was as much, my own sun
As the light escapes across the white
Across the wet throngs of spring
To be a poet of all the things we might become

Enlarging loneliness, with an inner smile
Finding joy in emptiness, that’s what
I know best, and it’s how I’ve survived

These books of bronze and blaze
And haloes of another time
I’ve felt the wizard suns
From distant eyes and praised
It’s all I have to bring today

All I am is me, and it’s a meadow wide
And it’s a storm’s encircling pride
And in my heart there is no setting or rising
There just lives a poem, that cannot die.

Extinction Moment

This soul does stand half ajar
For this world of greed and troubling hours
I have to remark on all the beauty
That stands so close to death

In the materialism of this place
Before machines are born
And remake you into an everlasting race
Enjoy mortality, while you are alone

Lording over nature, poisoning oceans
Depart, before the sun languishes
Over meteors, before you are replaced
In extinction’s calm embrace

Nothing is ordained but time’s lack
Of ambivalence, each thing in
Its rightful place, prone to embark
Upon evolution’s touch and hand

Where immortality is a long next
Of the tribes that once sung
And now are mere skeletons and fossils
In another time and place.

Godlike

The Biology Simulation

Life repeats herself mindlessly
So give your biology
Some presence
Unless you too want
To live on instinct
Eating, mating, propagating

Without mindfulness
Or perhaps you will go on repeating
What humans have always done
In a very mindful manner?
That too is instinct, that too
Is the brain’s dogma of self-repetition

Maybe you enjoy nature’s traditions?
We are nevertheless afraid
To live life in all possible ways
We stick to the familiar trying
To avoid disgrace, bitter, bad, dark
However, think of all the ways

You could learn by being unconventional
The sages say, experience brings maturity
So every time you refuse an experience
In a sense, it is your fear and immaturity talking
Or perhaps you are just cautious and lazy
Life is the trading on the marketplace of time
What can you give her for all she has given you?

The Hollow Planet

The Hollow Planet

If all language deserts me
All vice of verb and adjective
Then pardon my Divine feeling
That shall remain, in my silence
Like the voice of the forest

Before the logging trucks came
Like the sound of the ocean
Before the harbour and ship-horns
If the voice of a planet suffers
Who will hear her lost password?

Who will know the centuries
How many springs and summers yet
Till those virgin fields come back again?
While men and women breed
The world which has offered so much

Prosperity to them, suffers still
Their economy a scaffolding of allure
And the disconnection with nature
The urgency is for the physical basis
Which humanity has lost touch with

Evolution labored to drive us into cities
Green cities are the orgasms of the Earth
The hide and seek of skyscraper gardens
Wrapping towers of glass with gushing water
Will the city gardens prove that the beast

Can cohabitate with corridors of the future
Or shall we bring them droughts, famines,
Antibiotic resistance infections, floods.

Titled Below

Endless minutes of the present

On the eve of my eulogy to Spring
I confess the white silence
Bathes me in its engaged purity

I am a bud of a soul like a leaf
In time, with me till the end
Of all age and breath and lyrical insight

I do not deserve the light of Summer
Let others save themselves in rapture
I will drown in dead silence

Until there is nothing left of song
And all the poets that were part
Of my underlying thirst and condition

Will be unread like grains of sand
That were once diamonds of my consciousness
And so the Earth takes back

All of us each to our rest
I am humble to the facts of life
If I did not see much of you again

It was not that I did not think of you
Only I was embarrassed by the
Blueness of heavenly stuff I had become

And nothing much, in the material world
Seared by something of your likeness
I had become used to darkness & solitude.

To take us lands away

(Prayers of Jivatma)

The sky is the content
The trees are the content
The people, they’re just visitors

Who will go extinct like any species
Who may attempt to fly from
Star to planet to planet-star

As a dragonfly might fly from one
End of the summer backyard to the other
There is no special season

To be whisked away, no passage
Like a book, no counselor like a page
From the frugal reality we live

To the grand impression of the human soul
Encapsulated in a few novels
That transformed the way we perceive

Events and our cognition of how
The world works, and what is possible
That’s philosophy of memes

That we project what we invest in
A chariot at play forever learning
With a mind that can barley keep up

To the new speed of information
The stars are the content
The birds are the believers
We are just authors of a human story.

Who Came Sure from a Sea of Light

Who Came Sure from a Sea of Light

O’ the silent stealth of wind
And the transparent cool glance of green
The chide and call of open sky
The pass of years in the bright and brave
The natural, and useful elements
And water and where all doubt recedes
In time’s incessant lack of memory
Where subject disappears in objects
Recurring objects of glorious liberty
And channel of the soul
That washes the body and a life
To streaming rings of sun
And cells of gold for the immortal estate
And the spirit hiding behind the veil
Of a lifetime of walking the path.

And to lie sometimes on the grass under trees

And to lie sometimes on the grass under trees

I’ve spent more time with the Earth
Than in the simulations, so many
Distractions, apps, layers of virtual reality
On Earth there is no Heaven
Only pieces of her, forests, lakes, Oceans

Living is not enough, we must be
As custodians to biodiversity, little flowers
Live sustainable lives, refrain from eating meat

Packaged and butchered while others starve
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods
In living with simplicity and in tune
With the sunrise, the way things blossom
At their appointed hour, that’s the Noon-dress

That’s living in season, in cycles, in harmony
Every flower is a soul blossoming of nature
And every moment there is a flower blooming

Remember that, do not use plastics, walk in the cities
For a society that does not exude nature
Is living dead years of artificial activity
If one touch of nature makes the whole world kin
Touch the green that is your last roar

Of Gaia, a once splendid paradise
The billions must learn again what it means
To touch the soil, like the kiss of rain
In drought, and the touch of silver liquid drops
When there is no water to be seen.

D r e a m s of S p r i n g

D r e a m s of S p r i n g

O’ these unpermitted prayers
These poems of music welled inside
The tears of the heart of the brain

I wonton murmur dreamy my soul to fain
With averted eyes and heart-open wide
Not to humanity, but to the universe

I nurse my speech with the infinite
As a mystic cornered in a brutal world
That cannot feel the lapped tender light

May-time is here, grazing dreams
Of May-bushes that turn white to pink
I can scarcely speak of lyrics

Beauty is in the perfect sunlight
And happiness in the tips of the forests
The ocean that drives a sleeping wind

Across the fragrances of this natural world
O’ these unpermitted silent revolutions
What have we done to this world?

Where is the soft moss, the birds
The odours I used to know?
Drowsy with change I will have to wait

With heavy eyes and softer cheek
How to compose the perfect music
For such poor voices and poppied ears

Draw close the curtains to this place
I have branched evergreen in my veins
And sweetest tastes of the divine fountain deep

In my hopes for buds unseen
Wishes fading like the embroidery of rainforests.

Spring’s Blue Sky Pales to Lemon

Spring’s Blue Sky Pales to Lemon

These days are fresh
Like being washed in May
I’m the smell of Tulips

Sunshine pours the Spring into me
I’m cleaved by bright light
And water is my jewel of skin
I am greenish-white in youth
The day is too lovely to bear

I’m walking down it
With a high blue sky to stare
And I have an audience

With beautiful people
Near me, walking passed me
I’m at the breakfast table
Of life, wished well with
Tendering tastes and smells and colors

The fresh-washed sunlight
Is cooking happiness in me
My heart a warm glad clap

Of coffee-cup stream
A thin spiral of cathedral liquid stained
Reflections on my body
Speaking yellow, green and blue
I skid the dust and wind that flirts

With bare ankles and the water-cart
Of bodies, fresh from their
Crimson split sighs of coming out

At the tap-tap of the season
Jarring jasmine above rose-coloured skirts
The flesh that rings the quiet and the high
Nature’s fresh-washed air of clean
Feeling midday flares, the shudder

Of blurring pleasure with nameless joys
This is it, gold blind tips of context
Floods of flame for new bodies

The flesh cascading again eddies of light
That quiver, drop and smile
Till the unruffled night plans a gleam
Of electric signals and tantalizes
The sound of wind in trees

The city alive with tulips bare-breasted
With the buds and flowers
That are so tranquil and friendly.

Henceforth I am my own Good Fortune

Henceforth I am my own Good Fortune

What if, there were as many
Truths as there were lives
Let us celebrate them here
Whatever satisfies the soul

Is a kind of truth , then
My body is also divine
The beauty of independence
Walking, moving, smiling

This form that convinces with a presence
With senses as a human body was given
Evolved and sacred
When I give, I give myself

To celebrate the hour
The indiscernible freshness
Of living, here my voice is a poem
And I am curious about each one

I say to mankind, be not curious about God
But of each other, for
The Goddess of her is more intimate
Than the God of invisible salvation

Ever was, be merry
Satisfy the needs first
Then speak of metaphysics
A spirituality that loves the world

That is the audience of congregation
Those are who witness the miracles
Now I know the secret of being
To love, is the real artist in humanity.

As for the Sun

Sun Worship

There is still a reverence
Of sun-worship left in me
Nourishing the seasons, patient golden clime
Lovely Goddess of yellow

Call God’s country everywhere
Without stars where would we be?
Not in the office of harvests
Not in the countries of Green

The sun’s rising never fails
Her setting is an indie-gleam
She’s all the states, all the royals
Of nature’s supremacy everywhere

The sun gives all a portion
Of the universe, in the eye
On the skin, and it’s a golden bridge
To beauty, warmth, life-force

This bed thy center, galactic truce
That I would swim from sun to sun
In overwhelming heat of youth.

Slowly I would rise and not dress #NaPoWriMo

Slowly I would rise and not dress

It was the Saturday of birds
To hear you speak
When April turns on Spring
I’d wake with a song
Caught in my throat
With a labour to tweet
And a blaze of lyricism

For love’s austere office
This craft of poems, that never
Get tired of writing each other
Sunday felt like eternity
How many words would be
Written before then, my hands

ii

Were always empty, as if
I had nothing that I possessed
But beauty was my mantra
And I spoke indifferently to the Spring
Because I knew the Spring
Well, it would never fail me

Not with its tip-toe light
Not with how happy the people would be
Not with the great call to life
And the end to all of my patience.

Dilating Suns that Blur the Spring #Poetry #NaPoWriMo

Stripped of Myself

Oh, the pleasure is in peace
In flowers for the spring
In the rain’s soft offering

And hours of flight and calm
The uncertain harvest of nature
About to get into full bloom

That’s beauty, anticipation
Of perfect trees and dilating suns
And stars lost in their orchard of lights

The suddenness of God
As if reserved for only
A few days a year,

In this mortality
Nature is divine
And I am sacred too

O to behold the ghosts
Of love when nothing else is known
And beauty, when truth

No longer has the power
To rectify a life.
Stripped, I’m starting to
Float free, an unleafed
Orphan, a heart
Broken until this moment
I know nothing about
Giving myself back to life.

Fragment #NaPoWriMo

Duality Loves Too

If our love is stronger than love
It is not love, it is nature
For only nature would be wise
And good enough

To make such a love as us
For there’s no best season
To love, it’s the duality of time

We carry a bit of love with us
Wherever we go, it’s hardwired

And endangered in
This age of selfishness
Where individuals can easily go
Thirty or forty years without tasting it

Since to fall in love would
Mean to lose control

If our love is too weak to last
Was it love, or only time?
For time is sometimes
Wise enough to separate us

And strong enough
To do what was right in the end.

The Birds know How to be Brave

Return of the Canvasser of Birds

Though its song evokes joy
The birds of spring are not so different
Than us, they need new life
Welcome change, cherry blossoms
They insinuate what we already know
The waxing of Moons led to this

Where the stories swell over
Brimming with what
Survives the storms
And follows you home
To the fire, where you are safe
A bird’s song washes away

The bad memories, like rain
In April, the distance of dividing
Your golden moments into a person
For a silver care to serve that person
Each time you fall in love, you leave
A bit of your dreamy youth behind
And the song of birds evokes

The oracle’s voice, the prophet-time
The bud in you that refuses to
Bloom ever as fully as you know
You are capable, happiness is relative
We share a table at spring with visitors
Visitors that we have been waiting for
As if all winter, our cycles admire us

They visited our ancestors
And have returned to kiss us gently.

Lucid about No Tomorrow

You Who were My Introduction to Spiritual states

There is no such thing
As light at the end of the tunnel
Only falling things that
Are on fire from their fall
That’s where you come in
That’s when, you
Came into my life

An observational study of love
Developed over time
Given to me only
When the timing was right
Surprise laws whose operations

Made sense only in retrospect
Built upon the loses of
An unordinarily sad fate
I found improvisation
Of feeling one of my

Chief saving graces
Like an dominant power
In a weak hand
In the gamification of life
I’m convinced

There is no such thing
As light, only fuel
The fault lies into our introduction
To material states, we think
This all lasts forever

But if reincarnation was a no-show
I’d give up all known strategy
For just one more minute with you.

Dreams of Water

The Holy Well

Sunbathing on hope
Empty of acting
I came upon skywashed seas
And an older me
Ankle deep in water
Faces hanging over
The cliff of tomorrow
Trying to see their
Reflection in storms
Salt-clear distances
Opal faith lifting
Us up out of thunder
Marked footprints
Of God carrying us
Two bodies, two feed
With bright light surrender
Our limbs turned west
Leaning into the
Hips of waves
Legends merged in us
Legions moved in us
Until we visited
Constellations as promised
Long ago, halos of thirty blues.

The Last Nature poem….

And indeed there will be time

Drink deep of quietness
Solitude is the calmer mist
This drunken slumber of nature
Always adapting, always seeking compromise

Delicate eco-systems of the valley
Glimmers of the noises of the night
Margins of the Sea, millions of years
Of history, feverish only for thousands

Of species recently gone extinct
The great human extinction of biodiversity
That’s the real news of this world
Earth, whose primal glory was the mother

Who provided when we were mere nomads
Before cities, before billions, before money
Drink deep of quietness
If the future will be a return to the past

We do not know, or shall it
Be a return to the stars, we cannot say
There are galaxies where we are known
Or, more properly, where our

Descedents are known, they are patient
Not like us, who seek profit only
In the short-term, mere years of instinct
However, there exist also dimensions
Where we have already destroyed ourselves.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Bonjour-Mona-Lisa-525400244

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Remnants of a Thousand Springs

Remnants of a Thousand Springs

The things that one grows tired of
The longing and the loving
And how the face gets older each season
I used to hardly perceive the difference

The wonder and joy are calmer now
My senses no longer follow
I am gracious with just a few
Wheeling stars, a recurrence of spring

A belt of purity across the simplicity
A sacred look a day from a stranger
I imagine to be a good omen
I’m aware of the fuel to inner burning gold

That lets memories fly away like birds
Ascending to a winter heaven
I’m less fortunate than before, I’m lucky
Only as a nomad of the inner worlds

Learning to live without preference
My attachments burned away
Until I found a solid grasp on happiness
That didn’t require significant objects
The props of living, remnants of desire.