“Sleep”

Picture courtesy: internet. If you own this please inform me, I would either take this down or shall provide you due credit by adding name or link.

Walking gently into the night.. What’s left is these last drops of light..Soon the final shades of colors will become one.. Time is about to lose its significance and space is about to lose limits.. Nothing about my world will be carried forward.. My sorrows and my happinesses can accompany me till this gate alone, as “sleep” needs neither.. All that there exists now is an unending continuum, till my alarm goes on..

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Experience – Here it goes, there it comes..

The mental demand for permanence in an experience is a source of discomfort.

No experience, be it that of sight, sound, taste, smell, touch, feel or relation(ship) is sustained permanently.

Lost and Found

I am in search of something unknown,
Just beyond my grasp of comprehension.
I stand at the temple doors of Self,
Sealed shut by monks of Sophistry
To conceal their esoteric knowledge and rites,
Of which I desperately long to understand.

Break Away

Brown petal falling;
White life now wilted, but free
To Fear and Tremble.

Grey

Grey file cabinets line beige-green walls,
Stretching from the speckled grey ceiling
To the off-white (grey), tiled floor.

warm colors

the sun steps, feet
pressing into
green foliage, washing
her limbs in the blue and
ivory seas – the earth

carefully written

i imagine our Gods
write and send
letters, notes, papers, and art
out into the universe

The Wheel

Inside this cir – cle, ten billion hands are pushing,
wheeling us around the universe,
searching for the light.

We have the torches, but the stars
we are not yet alighting, our agency stunted
by the promises of a silent creator.

From my window, I am watching the spectacle;
it is a ring of fire, plowing over the land,
a racing bright wind, burning and eating.

In The End

this path, of golden pebbles

has thorny copper leaves

in the end

this path, of a crushed heart

has a love laid, of fine arms

in the end

This World, A Seat

when fires dance in the sky

and eyes linger in deep caves

when snow flows into the heart

palms in love with fired coals

 

Eyes

A fox
    head high, lips of a cave
    etched a rock
    strokes loud, killer teeth
‘This cave, dark as coal’

Linger

Drops of light fell
      on my eyes of snow
Drops of light, fresh and wet
Drops from shivering clouds
      clouds, of rain and thunder
They poured the same

The Owl

The dark hollow
of the silent night
Blew into fires of fiery red
Glowing her tucked wings
In molten fear

The Fire Within

The fire within, I hold in icy metal
melts every rock, laid high and deep

The lion within, I keep in a fox’s skin
fears no plot, schemed of evil design

The Jungle Book

For the deer, I waited as a lion
To the cheetah, I was too late

For the fish, I shot my eye as a stork
To the kingfisher, I was too late

Strange To See

A strange life this is, to see
A question not, of to be or not to be
In trying to be
We see not, what we are
In a pride to be
We see not, how we are
In a fear to be
We see not, where we are
In an agony to be
We see not, why we are

Who Am I

Who am I
To set my borders
When I know not
how far I could reach

Who am I
To choose my path
When I know not
where lies the end

A Heaven, Yes

from a seed we come
to a seed we so go
planted on this heaven
we burn ourselves to find

Life’s Machine

ah this grinding machine!
shaped down, conical
sides of two colors
I rotate between

The Inner Search

how could I measure
with my two inch thread
this yarn of life I adorn

Setting The Spirit Free

as images form in mind
of keen desire or revulsion

Loop Poetry: Who am I?

Poetry challenge: loop poetry.

Who am I?

I am what I don’t see

See my existence unknown

Unknown as my fate to be

Life’s meaning from a question

Question to think hard and deep

Deep as the ocean in a mystery

Mystery to wake us from sleep