In the memories of Fir Trees
And that rain-wash climbing road,
From where have vanished
Your varsity and foolish family life.
Still we listen that crowing of the pigeons
Throughout the loneliness of our beloved dead City.
Still drag us to that vibrant Veranda
Always intervenes by the firing of Stan-guns,
And wounded many a kind of Guernicas
Or else sprawl out as a junk of Dead Sea Scrolls.
Or even resembles the scattering colors of a thousand of Sonatas
Or like the sacred garden of the Sonalu Flowers
Longing for the illicit Poppies that will surely arise,
But yet through the sudden simmering whim
The poem appears as like as Water Hyacinths.
Today I walked down a round around the city
Through the rhythm of Tao like a deep tube,
Gazing and enjoying the game of puppy
While I got back there’s a tinge of moonlit only.
And think twice about the future of the doggy hoods
That gave rise an idea, If I would be a rich enough
I’ll create a sanctuary for the street dogs
Where they can enjoy their instinctive drift
That has been shattered by the name of humanity!
20th November, 2016
Why you get hurt within the harsh reality?
Since you born with the little wings of dove
That’s why migrating process to the another planet
Has been impeded in this eve, however you would
Disperse the words and notes where they tend to go
And Be a dangled bat of falling lift of torn out chain
Wasn’t it good enough since you have left some traces?
In the romance of oystering
In this premature time!
8th July, 2016
Here comes the sun through the porous of rain forest
Where everything seems hairy like the many unseen earth
The roots of deciduous all covered with rainbow like bushes
Some could spot out, some not
I could see, being as a tree
Why I cant give up “I”?
Or else I could lost
Into the shades of arbors.
Impetuousness where never stomps
The red armies of ants march all around
Yes, I will, I will
One day, I will free from
Everything, even from lustrous “I”
Perhaps would be born again
As green clumps of earth
At least life will go
In the spirit of selflessness.
5th July, 2016
I know why my life is so beautiful
People want to know my livelihood?
I answer them the truth
They want to know more about me?
I reply them this is only my mind
I live only with the joy of mind!
An intellectual who always think he is the genius only
Always tend to find out my flaws
He asked me reversely,
Why are you so supple?
I answered him, it is the reflection of my mind
Cause I’m made up with the mud of my mind
That’s why I’m so soften!
A cunning beard person always give me the sermons
And say to me, righteousness brings serenity
I replied him, I only believe in the purity of mind
Cause through this mind I see, hear
That’s why I know why my life is so beautiful!
29th June, 2016
At last end of the eve, self have been sacrificed
Now I became joyous like the Earth.
In mirth sometimes I lied across the rivers
Where the history dance between the grasses
And again touch the sky and the sun
Without squinting while gazed
Yet the tears dripping down
And reminds me that, I was a being once!
Rising from the Pacific aftermath
Seeing the rain-forest, give rise a feelings of delta
Cause once I was moving around the silted land.
While I reach to the Himalaya as a big bird
And become a not-self while meditate
Then again I enter into the realm of music
Give rise the feelings of musician
Whilst I had a Garth of notes!!
And lit the torch of music,
In the Olympic!
26th June, 2016
I’ll go near by the sea again.
This time with sea like heart.
With empty form and will be amazed
By observing the airy homing pigeon
I know, I know somebody far by still
Chuckling. When the laughing just
Fade out I’ll think about you. Surely
I’ll think about you because I didn’t
Have any other horizon without you.
What I had, was just manifestation
Of fallacies and white lies. When
Sun will set and I’ll gaze at the
Rose sky and utter the greatest
Poem of the world. Then I’ll sneak
Around at the dim lighted tea shop
And listen to their stories, stories
Of their greatest heroes, stories of
The prophets through their mouths.
In this insipid life how many kites
Flying above? And I’ll color the
Insipidness today, and that flying
Object. Nevertheless I love this
Insipid honesty my dearest squeeze,
When a thousands of mysteries
Whirling around in this joyous of
7th May, 2016