Oblivion

In the sea of darkness,
In absence of light,
This solitary man floats on,
Rudderless and without a mast,
Moving neither forward nor back,
Fearless and yet unafraid,
Hopeless and yet existent...


He floats seemingly,
Like a lone log driftless,
Tepid waters of diffidence,
Bathe his skin cold and lifeless,
The taunt and deep ridges of thought,
gently massaged away by these waters...


He floats gently,
Like the lone autumn leaf,
Falling from heights of glory,
Unaware as the mighty wind,
Gently caresses him and still,
Cradles him as he falls,
Towards the abyss of oblivion...

A Sense of You

In the bloodstream
You exist
Not in a visceral reality
But an essence
Like a crushed jasmine flower
Bleeding in the palms
Of playful lovers

In each breath
You exist
Not in a weighted presence
But a fragrance
Of dessicated roses
Thrown in the faces
Of deceitful lovers

In each sound
You exist
Not in a mellifluous voice
But like the paean
Of a roadside fakeer
Lost in the melody
Of heaven's whispers

In every taste
You exist
Not in a succulent savor
But like sweet nectars
Of childhood memories
Left haunted in the minds
Of nostalgic wanderers

In each touch
You exist
Not in a physical reality
But an existence
Of debilitating certainty
Crawling over the hearts
Of stone and ash

You exist

As the dreamers and those awake
Fall into the madness of love

Iridescence

Oh Iridiscent rainbow,
Where have you gone,
Leaving behind gray skies,
devoid of hope and warmth.

Oh sweet nectar of monsoon nights,
Where have you gone,
Leaving behind desolate emptiness,
And a land barren and bleached.

Have you returned to your home,
Where the love that you forever sought,
Greets your with the thumping of soft hail.

Have you returned to your land,
Where the sunlight slices up slivers of the sky,
And adorns you in its ornaments

Oh Iridiscent rainbow,
Where have you gone,
Leaving behind lost memories,
Left floating in the clouds of desires....

Blue

Blue like the rise of the tide,
Blue like this chunk of heaven crystallized,
Blue like the ache that your heart spews,
Blue like the drops of morning dew,
Blue like defeat and Blue like victory,
Blue like the ending of your wretched history...

The Oblique and The Mystique

What tears may come soak them,
What blood may spill burn it,
You the lover of the oblique,
You the seeker of the mystique,
Drown the memories of yesterday,
It doesn't exist...
It doesn't exist...
Reality is your mirror now,
The rest simply doesn't exist...

Still Death

The life that once was,
Stripped of all it's meaning,
Flesh and bones,
Like sticks and stones,
Hardened like the human soul,
The life that once was,
Gazes at me in fear,
A develish smile remains,
Frozen of all it's meaning...

The wanderer asks..
In these fragments that I pieced,
Am I the human,
Or am I just the beast...

Become...

Become like the call of the nightingale’s chirp,

Become like the roar of the elephant’s birth,

Become like the soul of the daylight break,

Become like the rustle of the tree stalk shake,

Become an existence that is larger than you,

Become an ideal of all that is true,

Become like the light that shines over all,

Become the voice that answers every call.

Become someone larger than pride and strife,

Throw out the verbal dagger and knife,

Become like a bouquet of roses and bloom,

Spread the fragrance of love and swoon,

Become like the smile of an infant child,

Become like the innocence of the beast in the wild,

Become like the serenity of the corpse deceased,

Become like the terror of the awaiting beast…

Until The Monsoon Comes

The lush golden sand in this desert wide,

Doesn’t scream its thirst every night,

The pitch black sky doesn’t taunt,

In its abdicated refusal to give in,

The cracks at the seams of the parched soil,

Doesn’t scream its thirst every night,

It withers on and withers on

Until the monsoon comes…

The Mirror

What tears may come soak them,
What blood may spill burn it,
You the lover of the oblique,
And the seeker of the mystique,
Drown the memories of yesterday,
It doesn't exist...
It doesn't exist...
Reality is your mirror now,
The rest simply doesn't exist...

The Prayer

The crowd stands in unison,
Shoulder to shoulder,
Like soldiers defending a fallen city,
The crowd stands in unison,
And the call of the muezzin begins...
The prayer of the twilight,
The advent of the feast of the soul,
Begins as angels shower god's love,
And the revelers bask its blinding glory,
The nameless one remains sheltered,
Cloaked in the mask of disillusion,
The nameless one remains bitter,
Sheltered in the umbrella of his deceit...

The Matam

He remains not of this world,
and yet His body walks among us,
His form raised above all in chant,
Hovering over this sea of men,
Drowning in tears, flowers and rain,
He awakens not to the sound of thunder,
He awakens not to the sound of rain...

At the Banks of the River

My existence is lost, I am merely a wanderer,
I am not of this world, nor am I of the beyond,
These eyes search endlessly for the heartbeats,
Pounding away (loudly) in the forgotten corners of this land,
My existence is lost, I am merely a wanderer,
One who searches during the day and by the starlight night,
One who searches in the searing sun, and under the silver moon,
One who searches until he has forgotten all else that mattered,
If you ask him his name, he gazes in ponder,
And he points to the silent cries in the distance...

His existence is lost, he is merely a wanderer,
He is not of this world, nor is he of the beyond,
nothing remains for him in this emptiness and hollow,
He talks of angels and demons hitherto unknown,
haunted it seems he remains like a cowardly animal,
crossing the thin mango bark over the raging river,
This wanderer roaming still,
Aimlessly like a madman,
The wanderer roaming still,
Searching for a few lost heartbeats...

Come Within

They search in the empty corridors of the heart,
These eyes gazing throught windowless souls,
These voices that echo in the halls of the shah,
These voice that echo loudly within.

Thumping loudly,
This heart searches for meaning,
In this barren land absent,
Of the intoxication of your love...

Come within me,
Come within me,
Oh lost love of my heart,
Come like the autumn wind,
Come like the prayers of the fakeer,
Come like the drops of honey,
Dripping down the lips of Layla,
Her eyes searching for her majnun,

Through windowless souls of despair,
And empty corridors of reason,
Come like the sound of the rain...

The Metamorphosis

The metamorphosis is complete,
As the second hand begins its sweep,
The hour is born from the womb,
The Aegis of the minute,
Of the day of the month of the year,
Begins dwindling and churning,
Grinding and turning,
My existence lurches still,
Not forward nor back,
Non existent, but still physical,
Searching for something,
In the cloudy eyes empty,
of all promise,
The Ghosts of the past,
return once again to haunt,
And the metamorphosis is now complete.