you gotta be here, you gotta be there

sweet child o' mine
why do I see you in the streets
lost in the abyss

sweet child o' mine
why do I see you in that roadside
my mind split so wide?

sweet child o' mine
why do I see you in that corner
reading a tattered copy of Homer

sweet child o' mine
why don't I see you anywhere
you gotta be here, you gotta be there

sweet child o' mine
why do I see you on the roof-
of your existence, I had no proof


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sweet Child o' Mine is the third single by American rock band Guns N' Roses, and the third from their 1987 debut studio album, Appetite for Destruction. It remains one of my favourite songs, of all time. 

don Juan goes psychedelic

is that all there is-
left of your psychedelic underwear?
it did help in taking my mind off
from the seven deadly sins
finally when I see you give those up-
dear, dear John, 
I am no longer interested in you
hope you quench your thirst
by visions of the future
lolling in the company of
saints, monks, and meditation

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had fun writing this. I simply let go of myself and ended up with a poem which might not make much sense. But so what? 

radiating rays

I expect you to walk out
towards light
radiating rays go outwards
never to converge
I watch acrid summer
paving a way for you

"come walk out from that photo"

the middle is what we are

picture credit: Alison Jardine

I see a crack
a minor thing though
yet a line that disturbs me
you may dot the face
you can't gag the mind
it will fly free
even with thousand bonds
why maintain a travesty of gaiety?
go as deep as coral
or as high as sky

but do not omit the necessary middle

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I completed 6 years of blogging and as always forgot to mention it here. I have come a long way from June 23, 2005. I have more than 1000 posts here. Maybe I need new ventures. Let's see.

a statement

fire on your neck
burns the picture frame
square hole on the wall
makes a statement
your eyes lie to me
I hide the discoloured wall
with a tapestry
and write some numbers
in the margins of paradise

"with a twine, tie that ego"

fruits dance on the walls

picture credit: Chris Galford

in a blind alley
I find fruits
dancing with each other
drinking their health
butterfly steps out
when bees sting
I write graffiti
on walls

"do knock it down"

darkening light

Photo Credit: Mike Still

alighting from the sun

a child walks on the water

wind can't blow her away-

that child lost in the threshold

of life and after-life.

secret passages of the lake

close in. her dad rues

lost opportunity.

sky seeks the child back into its fold

"blobs of light will reflect first, yet take it away"

whispering ocean

trapped in it

whispers of air

prefer to stay put

rivulets of thready thought

grip me 

I want to escape

into the endless ocean

"isolated, I let strawberry tickle me

while storms breaks in within,
maybe I prefer to be within the stones of time"

dusty trails

Photo Credit: Rob Hanson

my ham radio
I look out for it in the dust
I see the old telephone
hear your voice
crystal clear
with the dust laden towel
I wipe my tears
cold air touches
the back of my neck
when the ham radio crackles
I know it is you hidden in recesses of time

my next step, I stand at the edge of the mountain

if only he could see behind

the wall was built long ago
he sat in front of it
tried to look sad
he missed sounds, shadows
his muted form
saw it slipping through fingers-
willed it to stop

it never ends

your footfalls in the corridors
has jarred me numerous times
I have enforced discipline
with a firm voice
with a cajoling voice
also observe that, my words
only scratch the surface
that rage I feel
I keep it well hidden
yet your breathtaking smiles 
has soothed my heart

"each year same story, 
with different endings"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This goes for all my pupils (girls) I have taught over the years, currently teaching and will continue to teach in future. Do check out friday poetically with Brian and also Friday Flash 66 by G-man!

eye for an eye

while walking the ground
I found a white rounded stone
I drilled a hole
polished it,
found a lid to match
a perfect shape
I altered it into an eye
a beady eye
that stares at me,
tranquil

"I fondly keep my burdens locked in it"

clogs and wheels

Photo Credit: Rob Hanson

such a familiar place
to be surrounded by machines
in a basement
or an attic
I endure the heat
the humidity
all these obsolete machines
you don't find them any more
damp air feels sweet
I taste it, only thing I can taste
in the nothingness of being

"come morning, all will be a plain field
no house, no attic, no me,
a ghostly presence. beware thoughts..
I come only on certain nights"

ass/u/me

you are NOT me
you said. rightly so.
I assumed it all
looking in the mirrored image
inverted it is, I forgot.
the end is so numbing

I don't feel pain anymore

vitally bereft

I seek an empty space
insanity, you call it
an erratic path-
I walk in a straight line
luminous light from eyes of a deer
lead me to a small alcove
I hide my heart in there,
walk back to waste land

"bereft of something vital, 
I feel so light-
I call it an omen"