Sunday, June 12, 2016


In the beginning was the word;
the word was AUM.
Ever since, there has been a way,
the way,
the Tao.
With sprouting genesis and evolution,
came us, the humans.
We had instincts and needs like all the animals but,
we also had the choice..
The modern 'free will'.
The choice lingered between
accepting the way or
forming a way.
Some accepted and some formed.
The result is the globe and 
minds dwelling on it, 
we have.
Some of our choices 
caused some turbulence 
we developed and honed the sense of 
power and ego.
They translated into religion, decedance,
nazis and priority of comfort.
While our other choices 
held the balancing front and
accepted the re-directed 'way'.
Who won ?
No one.
We still were, are and will be loyal
to the essence of the way,
The endless cycle of 
grow, evolve, wither, contribute, transgress and,


The yin and the yang,
the 'shiva' and the 'shakti',
the right and the wrong;

they all seem to be one.
The pursuit for busyness and,
the pursuit for solitude 
are all essentially one.
Its the pursuit,
the see-saw of the game,
the balancing act in the larger frame,
the meaninglessness in fame and,
the depth in a name.
Solitude is not isolated and,
so are elements of busyness.
Its all one.
The higher power..
It is not in the light by itself.
I don't know 
I am seeking;
my kind of God 
in darkness,
as well.

Monday, February 1, 2016


Wouldn’t want to change a thing..
The hat, the bag and the overflowing rag,
they all belong; in a non-possessing sense of the word.
It is like a harmony of elements
put together to try to en-canvass Freedom!
To add a sigh to this thought;
this harmony comes nonchalantly
to her, on her and with her.
She is like the consciousness’ ritual of
portraying and living the word free!
And I steal my bit of bliss by
trying to weave some words around her –
our ritual for my lady, my giving tree!

Friday, December 11, 2015


She likes to explore.
I like Merlot.
I can't wait
for conversations,
face to face,
blended with
her choice and,
my Merlot.
The love
that we make
after our sips
to base
would be colors,
Would be shades
of tastes
Would be a blend
that defies
Cabernet Chauvignon.
Would be a spirit
as they call
a perfect blend..
a perfect wine.

Who Wants.. To Live Forever!

You must be special..
you.. you unforgettable piece of memory.
on some random
Thursday night
you still occupy
some heads,
some hearts..
far away from where you are.
people down here,
still love you and,
think of a moment,
or two
with you
in it, them.
for a beautiful woman
that you were..
for a beautiful soul
that you are;
I want you,
to know that..
those heads,
those hearts..
with you,
now believe that..
'A thing of beauty
is a joy


Depression is Golden

Moment and again,
when I stop trying
to be
a self-fixer,
I come to face
with this B side
of me,
within me.
It is a sucker,
for gloom.
It listens to the sermons
of crimson kings,
empathizes with
the melancholy
of as something
as small as
a gush of wind
not talking back to you.
Its a blizzard of crap,
when judged.
Its heart-breaking beautiful,
when felt.
Loathing in its love,
for such glooms, this morning,
it, yet again,
bows to the Crimson, King!
Partners in gloating,
in gloom.

Lament Soda

Trying to figure
the remedy
the cure
the panacea.
All my life
I have
given and received
a 'to do' list
to work with
when sad, upset or depressed.
It doesn't work.
It doesn't fuckin work.