Gypsy

When I look at the 2 pair of eyes,
I wonder about the perception.
What are the adjectives used,
What are the defining values?
Given the negative light,
Of a self-image,
And the ka-ching,
Ominously amiss,
I wonder, if the form is human, even?
Is it a putrid petrified form,
That stares back at the 2 pairs?
Or one that shys away from any gaze?
It's not about any transition,
Just an escalation and coalition,
Of past and present.
The ticking clock,
Helps none-
As life of time,
Outpaces time of life.
Connection thus seems,
Closeting on space-
While all the brown eyes want,
Is to strengthen the tempo-spatial dimension,
As walls that erect against the defenseless.
Incognito, is thus the call of the wild.

The Flow

How can White define the
Spread of days,
Speed, a haze,
The blank slate,
Looks barren.
The pause button seems too long-
Can perseverance deter patience?
Maybe, the force of resistance,
Has been guillotined,
To the blow of flow.
Time, seems the only constant-
Change- an inaccessible consonant.
Questions trigger barriers,
Walls stand up as defenseless boundaries.
To penetrate and create a hole,
Needs courage and effort.
Tenacity lies wronged-
The inner scream lies ashamed-
Pent up to a tangible mess.
To sort out,
Would be to renew.
But, would the Flow,
Accept the perchance Glow?

Blossom

Wish never to mar your progress,
 But see you soar high.
Higher everyday,
With a lighter mind
And a free soul.
May serenity engulf your everyday,
And the warpath cease
To bring in the harmony,
That you crave for.
May wisdom always suffuse your words,
As you share your light
With all in your way.
Gentle be your reign,
Subtle, it's form and essence.
Yet, may you conquer hearts
As you cross the oceans-
Enabling all to be empowered
With reason and love.
Men like you,exist in few,
Hence, must be treasured and revered.
To be loved by the likes of you,
So true,
May just be a karmic dividend,
Unsought.
Blessed be me,
Soaking in your aura,
As we blossom in each others' arms.
Meet of minds,
Convergence of souls,
We communicate through the unsaid.
As our hands find release in each other,
And hearts whisper as they rhyme in unity.
In you,
I hear my calling.
I must have known you through lives.
Yet we live as we grow,
Wake up each day,
To see a new morrow.

Sangria

Staring at the Sangria contents,
Red glistening against the crystal sheen-
My eyes soaked in the sight,
Of the fruits floating helpless atop.
And I could draw the analogy to,
Pieces of my soul charred and shattered,
Drifting light and pliant,
On my endless cup of blood,
As I drown-
Staring at death in the eye.
Is it Relief from the Release?
Or just a serenity sheathing me,
As my much awaited and prayed for end,
Meets a new beginning?
I chant the arrhythmic song,
Hoping for the inevitable
To be fast and merciful.