Nocturnal tear

When the moon shines bright
in the night sky
when the stars twinkle and
when the breeze passes by,
I sit out and look at the other world
so far and yet so nearby.
The star that falls down 
the Venus that stands so shy
brings me on too, to
the night and its joy.
The hooting of owls
The moon shines and
the star sparkles 
the sky droops down
and my world it does pry
The night shines
in my eyes too
as it mirrors itself
in the tear that trickles down
and I cry.

FearLess

Dancing is Music, is a Rhythm, is the Words of the soul, is Poetry

Whirlwind

Whirring past my ear

making the conspicuous sepulchral sound

whizzing about

creating a halo of dust

round and around.

The vision gets blurred

and finally obscures

the strength to judge

and perception 

becomes impure.

Running around in circles

realizing its all mental chatter,

falling down an abyss

I realize, that's where

lies the epicentre.

Summer Rain

Not the smell of the earth,
Not the silent trickle,
The rain brings with it
the open and free mind
full of dreams and
their gentle tinkle.

Sometimes heralded
sometimes broken.

A fresh new start
or a dead end,
A raging fury
or joy. Splendid.

Complicated as the summer rain,
emotions get notched in.
Mingled with wrath there's
a bubbling happiness.

Sometimes expressed
sometimes hidden.

Beyond the Lens

The hanging air,

and the held breath.

The perspective within

and without.

Its about the beholder

& not the beheld.

The journey from the mind

to behind the lens,

Is that of the sight

Beyond

the lens.

The world above, below 

and around

is a caricature of emotions.

Making sense of them and

putting them in a frame,

is a whiff of fresh air and surreal 

for an artist whose reality 

exists in frames.

Of make believe and real.

The capture does not bring the end

but maintains a lingering presence,

And proves that the realm Behind 

is as breathtaking as the Beyond,

for the picture on the wall

was once nothing..

but a sense.

Notions

Just when we call it the end to a day, 
it comes peeping in, 
the pang of guilt and self ridicule, 
slick and sly. 

How easy it seems to shave your head, 
to slay your legs, 
to recall food as a distant enemy, 
and to convert to shreds. 

Notions. 
They hold your mind and they come to stay, 
to convert you to a fanatic, 
how easy it seems to die, 
as you realise you forgot to Pray.

Dark Feelings

Enmeshed and entwined, hiding at the back of my mind, scared of the light and shine, its the feeling of the darkest kind. 

Even at the brink of rufflingfeathers and breaking free, it wants to stay bound, hidden in the abyss of my heart, without silence or sound. 

Its a confused feeling, dating back from when i started to feel, without a name of its own, its killing; killing, everything that's around.

Praised be the lord, when it does ascend to the eyes, to drop down, to finally vaporise, and then be seen nothing of, without a name of its own, it weighs heavily down..

still in the recesses of my heart, finding no escape, it wants to stay bound, without light or shine, its the feeling of the darkest kind.