What was left in our hands
after risk and awards were given to seekers?
Sign of grace at hairpin bends
was absent.Nobody was speaking.
...
The shift to vernal tone
starts a standoff with eyelashes.
A sickle moon begins
harpooning the stars.
...
Not moving, the words
had gone into inertia. The space was shrinking.
Only restlessness was there in buoyancy
ready to distort the sound of depth.
...
The unspoken words
had the unborn quality.
That homliness sitting around the fire pits
writhed in predatory hopelessness.
...
Take me, share me if you can
my heart goes to my sun,
my feet will go to my moon.
...
Silently you went to disappear in blue -
alone or unalone -
I was watching a moth
on the burning lamp in night way
...
Diplomacy of inconstancy
unmeets the urgency. Aura
of brilliance was falling in your feet.
...
You tend to ostracize the apparition
setting the real culprit free. It does not matter
to pretend now, a damaged house
has become a burden.
...
Unfettered for a little while, I was
catching the sleep visitor. It hurts
when the dream ends and a poem starts.
An eucalyptus, drinking lots of water, throwing the aroma
...