MATURITY

You say I have matured,

Well, maybe...

But-

Ripened by Experience,

Weathered by Age,

Tempered by Time,

Or beaten by Life?

GENESIS

Where do poems come from?
From azure blue skies
and candyfloss clouds,
Rolling green fields,
And soothing sonatas?
From a candlelight dinner,
Or a walk in the woods,
From being content,
Ensconced in love?

Do they drop like dew at night,
Like iridescent rain drops from leaf tips?
Do they waft in like the aroma
of freshly brewed coffee,
Gently, like a sleeping baby's breath;
From the velvet feel of the perfect bliss
of perfect moments in an imperfect life?
Or do they bound in with glee,
Like laughing children or feisty kittens?

Occasionally, they do come like that,
From all of that.

But much more often, they come
from fearful stormy nights,
When you're all alone and the power is out,
and you clutch a pillow,
your jagged breath louder than thunder.

They come from a terrible loneliness
that chokes you as you make your way
through a festive throng,
From pain that swamps you
as you stand in a crowded bus,
Among a hundred oblivious faces.

They come from standing at the crossroads
on a chilly evening while darkness rolls in,
Not knowing which road to take
to reach home, before you remember
You don't have a home.

Yes, the most powerful ones,
They mostly spring from stifled screams
and tattered dreams:
They emerge from squalor and despair,
And carry the stench of death.

They come when you dare to mute
the vibrant hues around,
Step aside and look at the greys,
the frayed ends, at the risk of being
Sucked into the black.

On the Ferris Wheel

We rise higher and higher,
Green canopies ramble
beneath us;
Wet petals sleep on rainy sidewalks-
Windblown lilac dreams gently
heaving with teary sighs.
Bright lights, bright awnings,
Bright nameless faces
Peer up at us.
City lights of sleepless nights,
An unknowing faraway glimmer,
Unfeeling, like the blinking stars overhead.

Up and down, up and down,
Faster and faster, we move,
Slicing through the dark,
Brushing past branches,
The cool air rushing into
the vortex of my being-
A vortex that sucks in
You, Me and everything else.

We move in circles, so does life....
Or does it? Some points of beginning
can never be returned to,
Some trajectories, once distorted,
can never be retraced.
Some paths, once lost,
are lost forever;
You see, some circles are never finished.

Some things are just not meant to be:
Some things like You and Me.

Home lies somewhere there,
Home sweet home, shrouded with innocence,
Somewhere there, at an unreachable distance.

We swing up, and swoop down
Like eagles to prey on
Life, that crawls along below;
And that's all that's meant to be,
as we step out, laughing-
God knows why....

Fireflies at Night

Fairylights strung
on the night
on invisible wires,
Softly flaming winking fires.


Stars fallen from the sky,
yellow and ripe;
Entangled in black leaves
on black boughs.


A glittering crown
adorning the night's frown.

A Lament

You tell me not to mourn

The passing of the morn;

That brighter dawns

Of brighter morrows

Hover in the east,

That similar gilted sunshine

Still shall streak my life.

Oh, can't you see,

I cry for these moments

That slip from my hands

Like grains of sand,

The harder I try to hold on,

Not because I don't know

The shores still stretch on;

Not because I fear

There shall no more be light.

It's just that I know

The sunshine shall never again be the same-

You are wrong there-

It may be brighter

Or duskier,

But it can never ever be the same.

The cadences of our laughter,

The notes of our song,

Shall never be the very same;

No, the sunshine shall never

Be just this bright again.

And that's why I ache

As these moments march fast

To the twilit past-

Memories that fade like the hues of sunset.

That's why I wish,

Futile though it be,

To slow down their procession

To Eternal Nothingness;

Or better still, sprinkle on them stillness.

For, once gone, I know,

They are forever lost-

Irretrievably lost.

Irreplaceably lost.

Because the sunshine shall never

Be just this bright again.

From the Window Seat

Lakes of molten steel

Chug past my sad twilit eyes

And stream down my cheeks.