not all black clouds
have a silver lining
to boast about
my little victories
knowing day turns to night
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all built up passion
washed away
sigh!
hours and hours invested
watering rocks
to get through to The Creator halfway
to dissolve boundaries
and have free flowing opinion traffic
washed away
when the only thing that mattered to The Godhead
was who remains one up in the conversation
On Indian Culture Trading Liberty For Nationalism
skeletons
wrapped in the starry night
with bone-thin skin
anxiously trying to sleep
all their bleak dreams
vigilantes
looking to be heroes
for a moment
even an ant may believe
it’s here for some grand purpose
autocratic
politicians divide
with steady hands
slicing in the scalpel
of a silver tongue
left wing, right wing
and on either side
grass
that grows
in the Spring
who knows which word
gets me stabbed or elbowed
or mapped to a cell
all the things that can happen
over a dinner gone wrong
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trying to say goodbye
before the ebbing tide
washes away
the imprint of my feet
from the shore
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if the wind
could take us away
to a land
where fallen Autumn leaves
get trodden on all the same
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enough rain
has seeped through walls
this year
we may behave
with a little blemish
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how many years
did that mountain survive
its ground
if hit by a small stone
our love would just crumble
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all it ever takes
is one star behind the smog
to light the glimmer
in people’s hearts to feel
they could kill for each other
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who knows
what I will be
tomorrow
so much to think about
what I’m today
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that old rubber tree
I used to slash curiously
to see its juices
ooze out slowly slowly
into memories
