POETRY - SHARDS OF BROKEN GLASS

SHARDS OF BROKEN GLASS As real as reflections on polished glass, Your fragile beauty; vividly dwells in my mind, Your ethereal presence; comforting for every hour I pass, Each minute lost in thought; hoping love in you to find. For in sweet surrender; I drift along in a heady trance, My soul in turmoil; gladly counting each passing day, My feelings all on fire; yearning to get a chance, For just a moment; all my heart’s desire to say. But forsaken and lonely; like a lost spiritual pilgrim of old, My flames of passion flare, and my heart burns with a crave, My arms aching; just your supple body to hold, So that my dead soul; can rise from this emotional grave. Like the ocean; my heart opens wide, Reaching out in grace; your tender love to embrace, But my pure devotion; sail against time and tide, And now I feel; as melancholic as a penitent in disgrace. Daily I search my heart; but find no hate, For in reposeful sweetness; within me you stay, Like an angel of hope; sent by heavenly fate, Peace of mind to give; when meekly I pray. Now my dream is shattered, By a painful memory; of a moment’s passionate token, That like a raging storm; has left my feelings scattered, Like shards of glass broken.

Paradise in Hell: Affirming My Resolve

It took me three years to build my internal defense mechanism, to emotionally and psychologically prepare myself for the eventual explosion and rapture of my marriage, which by then I was persuaded was beyond salvage. The certainty of the upcoming doom was as crystal clear as bright sunrise in my mind. All the while my ex was so challengingly oblivious of the decision I had made. She thought she had me where she wanted me, not knowing that all along I was giving her time to see how she was hurting me in other respects, and steeling myself against the pain that would follow should I carry out my resolve. Our marriage was practically dead apart from the sex. Women should know that holding a marriage together takes more that sex; and the worst thing a woman can ever do is to try to trample on and erode a man’s sense of self-worth and self-esteem. A man’s pride is intrinsically part of him, radar that he relies on to navigate the treacherous terrain of male dominance. Everyman spends time searching for and asserting his manhood in many subtle ways that sometimes is not apparent to men themselves. When it is time to defend and protect this side of their nature, they often go on autopilot. Tragically for most marriages, this is the only territory that many women do everything to violate to the detriment of their happiness. I find it ironic that women largely and exclusively blame men for all their marital woes, forgetting to examine how their attitude and general deportment contributes to this painful way of sharing our lives. I would sometimes bemusedly look at her with pity as she’d strut all over the house, throwing verbal missiles, challenging me to make good my promise to send her back to her parents. “ We are rich, our family is capable…I’ll be taken care of…we have trucks at home, and I can go for one even right now…” At such heated moments I would sometimes choose not to verbally respond, but inwardly, I would tell myself, “ baby, it is me who will hire a truck, and I’ll let have it all…I’ll not fight over who between us contributed how much to buy what…you’ll either take everything away with you or live it all here…”

Paradise in Hell: The Day We Separated

If asked to say what has greatly contributed to my romanticism, not in the narrow sense attached to matters of sex and love, but in the broader sense of loving the beauty of nature; I surely would not know what answer to give. I am not certain it is country music that inclines me towards a deep love affair with nature, or it is nature that makes me love country music so passionately. Well, I believe the answer to this is neither here nor there, but as I am writing this episode, two songs, one by Dolly Porton and the other by Don Williams keep on playing interchangeably in my mind. Silver and Gold Well, I met an old man, walking down the street, His clothes were torn and tattered, with sandals on his feet, And I stopped to help him, And then he on the other hand said “I Love you so much, but you must understand that silver and gold might buy you a home, but things of this world, they won’t last you long, and time has a way of turning out sore, but time cannot be bought back with silver and gold” And he said to me let’s rest for a while, Coz I have some good news to share with you child He said, you can’t change this whole world, But people need to know…that a dear say might drag you a long long time ago…. ‘And silver and gold might buy you a home, but things of this world, they won’t last you long, and time as a way of turning out sore, but time cannot be bought back with silver and gold” “His eyes shone like diamonds, And his smile was heaven itself, His hands was long and glowing, And his back was slightly bent, And I knew he knew it, coz that day I changed, And until I walked off, I forgot to ask him his name, He said silver and gold can buy you a home, When this life has ended and your time is on, But you can live in a world where, you don’t grow old, And things can be bought there with silver and gold, And time can be bought back with silver and gold. Now as the words of this song continually plays in my head, I am transported down the memory trail to one gloomy Saturday afternoon, 6 years ago when I asked my ex wife, “ Desb’s, are you sure you wanna go through with it?’ Although she said, “yes..,” I can still see the haunting look of horror mingled with pain and plea in her eyes….” Even now, I cannot help it…am crying like hell…I had just brought a truck home and asked her to, “kindly pack up everything as slowly and as meticulously as you can, and go. If you are packing make sure you leave absolutely nothing behind except me” She did precisely that, and my first, and probably the only marriage I’ll ever have came to a tortuous grinding end. I said two songs. Silver and gold is by Dolly Porton. The other song: “She never knew me” echoes my current love. Read about the episodes in my next two postings.

Paradise in Hell: The Day We Separated

If asked to say what has greatly contributed to my romanticism, not in the narrow sense attached to matters of sex and love, but in the broader sense of loving the beauty of nature; I surely would not know what answer to give. I am not certain it is country music that inclines me towards a deep love affair with nature, or it is nature that makes me love country music so passionately. Well, I believe the answer to this is neither here nor there, but as I am writing this episode, two songs, one by Dolly Porton and the other by Don Williams keep on playing interchangeably in my mind. Silver and Gold Well, I met an old man, walking down the street, His clothes were torn and tattered, with sandals on his feet, And I stopped to help him, And then he on the other hand he said “I Love you so much, but you must understand, That silver and gold might buy you a home, But things of this world, they won’t last you long, And time as a way of turning out sore, But time cannot be bought back with silver and gold” And he said to me let’s rest for a while, Coz I have some good news to share with you child He said, you can’t change this whole world, But people need to know… That a dear say might drag you a long long time ago…. ‘And silver and gold might buy you a home, But things of this world, they won’t last you long, And time as a way of turning out sore, And time cannot be bought back with silver and gold” “His eyes shone like diamonds, And his smile was heaven itself, His hands was long and glowing, And his back was slightly bent, And I knew he knew it, coz that day I changed, And until I walked off, I forgot to ask him his name, He said silver and gold can buy you a home, When this life has ended and your time is on, But you can live in a world where, you never grow old, And things can be bought there with silver and gold, And time can be bought back with silver and gold. Now as the words of this song continually plays in my head, I am transported down the memory trail to one gloomy Saturday afternoon, 6 years ago when I asked my ex wife, “ Desb’s, are you sure you wanna go through with it?’ Although she said, “yes..,” I can still see the haunting look of horror mingled with pain and plea in her eyes….” Even now, I cannot help it…am crying like hell…I had just brought a truck home and asked her to, “kindly pack up everything as slowly and as meticulously as you can, and go. If you are packing make sure you leave absolutely nothing behind except me” She did precisely that, and my first, and probably the only marriage I’ll ever have came to a tortuous, grinding end. I said two songs. Silver and gold is by Dolly Porton. The other song: “She never knew me…” echoes my current love. She never understands the depth of my feelings Read about the episodes in my next two postings.

Paradise in Hell: If She Were My True Love

I have had time to really think about you and I, and I have come to the conclusion that I truly and deeply love you, and I need you in my life with all my heart and soul. But when I view the circumstances surrounding us, I sadly and painfully realize that you hardly love me at all. Your true heart’s desires seems to me to lie elsewhere, in another place, in different sets of circumstances far removed from what I represent, what I am to you and what I might mean to you if only you’d give me the chance. My true hearts affection is to you; and there is no other one I adore as much, but it seems I only exist on the periphery of your tender feelings and caring. I am just one other person amongst others who might occasionally and temporarily ignite tepid warmth in your heart - just an anonymous presence in a vast field of tenderness in which your heart may sometimes find humor and succor: but only when you need a quick dose of an emotional high. It breaks my heart when I realize there is absolutely nothing I can do to pretend that my feelings for you are not real, and my despair is made worse by the knowledge that I cannot change this tortuous state of heart’s affairs because true affection can never be bought by silver and gold. I thought in you I’d find everlasting love, but all I have reaped from you is searing heartache.

Paradise in Hell

I cannot say precisely when we began this conversation with dad (God). I am going to use the word dad and God interchangeably. So make no mistake- dad means God to me. OK, what was I saying…this talk we’ve had with God for so long until last week when he finally asked me, ‘sony, do you still want to go back to the other place?’

I looked up at dad with tears in my eyes and tried to answer, but I found no right words to say. He prompted gently, ``don’t you want to speak to dad today?”

I squinted up at him, and there it was again; the usual wink and the characteristic knowing smile I had become so accustomed to that whenever I stared up at his face my reflexes automatically registered this look even when his face was as stern and hard as a dry plank of wood.
``Of course I want to daddy,’’ I managed to reply. There was prolonged silence.
``Speak up, say what is truly in your heart,’’ he urged and kindly smiled at me. `Do you want to stay here at home with me, or do you still wish me to…,’ he winked again and smiled down benignly at me, `…let you go and take another tour of that place?’

My head went into a fast spin. I felt dizzy and confused. Suddenly a searing pain tore across my heart and threw my entire body into shivers. Tiny pinpricks of light shot out of my mind and reflected very clear pictures of different segments of my life in stark reality. I somehow knew even in this tumult of confusing thoughts and reflections that daddy was patiently waiting for my answer with his usual smile in place.

I heaved a heavy sigh after what seemed like eternity itself and in a firm voice said. `No, no nooo nooooooo daddy, if you let me go back there again, I know this time you will let me die. Dad, I can sense that as clearly as if you are speaking out the words loudly.’

I opened my eyes and found myself standing alone. God was gone. I frantically searched around but there was nothing to indicate his presence. Some inner voice warned me that if I made a single step from where I was standing, I would never live again. So I simply `plonked’ on the ground and prayed for oblivion

The Eternal Drifter

I am home at last, says the eternal drifter.
I can now think freely without thinking,
About what someone else is thinking,
About my thinking.
But no one is thinking any more!

I am in love again, the eternal drifter’s heart says,
And I can now love madly,
Without loving what everyone else loves about love.
But who is there to love?

I can see with my conscience at long last, the eternal drifter thinks.
And finally I can now reason calmly,
Without reasoning about how others,
Reason about my reasoning.
But now they say I reason too much!

I am resolute in my decision, affirms the eternal drifter.
And I have no more doubts
About others doubting my sanity.
I am now aware that I am insane,
But no one doubts me any more!

But I have no more regrets,
Nor feel any remorse.
I do not wish to make any amends for the past,
I wish to live my life only for the future,
In the best possible way that I can relate to other human beings.

Poetry: Sweet Surrender

I am retracing the sweet silver path,
You engraved in my heart,
Back to where we parted ways.
This time if I find you,
I will gently bear you in my bosom wherever I go.
I am all set to go,
And there is only your spirit to shine my way through this dark hour.
For your spell over me is like an everlasting song of sweet affection.
For if ever my heart beat in harmony
To the rhythms and echoes of another distant heart,
If ever my soul yearned after the warmth of another soul,
If ever my spirits knew the sublime happiness of tender affections,
Then my life knew none other in sweet surrender.

POETRY - SHARDS OF BROKEN GLASS

SHARDS OF BROKEN GLASS
As real as reflections on polished glass,
Your fragile beauty; vividly dwells in my mind,
Your ethereal presence; comforting for every hour I pass,
Each minute lost in thought; hoping love in you to find.

For in sweet surrender; I drift along in a heady trance,
My soul in turmoil; gladly counting each passing day,
My feelings all on fire; yearning to get a chance,
For just a moment; all my heart’s desire to say.

But forsaken and lonely; like a lost spiritual pilgrim of old,
My flames of passion flare, and my heart burns with a crave,
My arms aching; just your supple body to hold,
So that my dead soul; can rise from this emotional grave.

Like the ocean; my heart opens wide,
Reaching out in grace; your tender love to embrace,
But my pure devotion; sail against time and tide,
And now I feel; as melancholic as a penitent in disgrace.

Daily I search my heart; but find no hate,
For in reposeful sweetness; within me you stay,
Like an angel of hope; sent by heavenly fate,
Peace of mind to give; when meekly I pray.

Now my dream is shattered,
By a painful memory; of a moment’s passionate token,
That like a raging storm; has left my feelings scattered,
Like shards of glass broken.

Poetry - IS IT LOVE OR LUST?

IS IT LOVE OR LUST?
When no word or sound is heard,
When the hint of a ravishing smile,
Like the sparkling sun,
Mellows darkness out of my heart,
Is it love or lust?

When she beams a direct look at me,
And heaven opens in my heart,
When our hearts as one twine,
Each joyfully saying you are mine,
Is it love or lust?

When I burn with fiery desire,
And desperately long to be part of you,
When your gait is a symphony of gracefulness,
And your voice a sweet melody in my ears,
That nourishes hope in my soul,
Is it love or lust?

When we fall into each other’s arms,
When our lips part in an instant,
Of eternal breathlessness,
When tongue deliciously touches and teases tongue,
In an intimacy of hot kisses,
When flames of passion,
Engulf both of us in flowery oblivion,
Is it love or lust?

Poetry - Dream from an Eternal Goddess

Dream from an Eternal Goddess

I saw all heaven and earth rejoice,
When a princess was born;
For she became a rare choice,
When nature’s splendor was apart torn;
To unsheathe her from the cloak of beauty eternal.

Then again,
I see angels sing in glory,
And dance to tunes of veneration;
For she has become a goddess whose story,
Make men in this generation;
Bow at her feet in mute supplication

And now,
Like the tantalizing aroma of lemons,
The magic in her charm and looks;
Thrills my senses as holy sermons,
From the sacred books
Can shine through the darkness in my heart.

For I dream of tomorrow,
When her affection’s effervescent presence;
Will wash my soul of sorrow,
Like a delicate scent that defies pretense,
But which overcomes the senses with pleasure.

When she speaks,
Like the tinkles of sweet chimes;
Her soothing voice echoes wedding bells,
Which softly ring all the times;
When my heart falls under her spells.

And so I long to live eternally,
And listen to her vital voice whisper
A delicious melody,
That only two souls united in sweet harmony
Can hear, so do not fear
To pluck the fruits of tender love,
And suck on the sweet juices of devotion,
I am dying to place at the doorstep of your heart.

POETRY - HORRORS FROM FACEBOOK

I have lost my soul in a haze
Wherein my heart has become metallic,
But it refuses to be a slave;
In the palace of pulses and static.

My emotions are just but bare wires and cables
In which warm human feelings are replaced,
By truth bedecked in fables;
And intimacy, dead and decayed.

So with thoughts trapped in a maze,
My heart, frail and fearful,
Quails before an agonizing daze;
That leaves me lonely and tearful.


For know I not where to follow,
To escape from this place, threatening and diabolic;
That each time leaves me afraid and hollow,
With love that is sterile and symbolic.

Now only pain and anguish awaits,
Each time I touch the magical boxes;
Where all humanity in forms counterfeit,
In subdued horrors, speak to each other like trapped foxes.

POETRY - JUST A KISS

JUST A KISS

My lovely little blue–jay,
How your plumes
As gentle as a serene soothing day;
In me triggers ripples of tenderness
And sighs
That makes my soul break forth
As a songster
Trilling a thrilling melody,
Of adoration;
Serenading a hearty tune
Of a youngster
Whispering a sweet song;
Of admiration
Like love doves cooing in a groove.

My feelings twirl, turns, tosses and tumbles,
At once plunging to fathomless
Deep depression;
Seeking, questioning, divining…
But still fumbles.
Yet again, idolizing,
Rises to lofty heights of inspiration.

I am a slave suckling passion’s fantasy,
But a child on the wings of fancy
Chanting a heart-warming song of longing
At the sacred shrines
Of your heart’s sweet affections.
How rosy and fragile you look?
Delicate shoots of new-born flowers,
Needing love’s nourishing care
Yet possessing love’s consuming power.

Mistress of my heart,
Maiden of my dreams,
How I long for you,
To be forever a part
Of this being shattered by screams –
Screams of joys never found,
Screams for love lived and lost,
Screams of delight never bound
Screams for emotion’s compassionate host,
Screams of ecstasy and expectations,
Screams of despair and dejection.
Maiden of my heart;
Mistress of my pines,
You are my goddess of bliss
To whose distant shrines
My soul yearns and searches for just a kiss.

POETRY - A FLEETING MOMENT OF LOVE

A FLEETING MOMENT

At first eye and eye…
A brief exchange, vacant.
But fleetly discreet a spark;
Of recognition – where?
Of familiarity – why?
Of acknowledgment – perhaps.
Acknowledging what…?

Then a swift turning of the head,
Eyes searching…
A false step, stumble, a crash.
OUCH! That hurts –
Rubbing a bruised temple
And burning under the baleful stare
Of a growling giant,
I croak…``Sorry…’’ and move on.
Mind searching.
Nebulous feelings, enfeebling.
Heart searching…
Then delirious sensations, a dizzying spell
Starts tingling with my nerves,
Once more I turn, Scanning…
But all I see are unfamiliar faces.
That face…those eyes…that smile!
Was it really a smile meant for me?

Hours pass, full of dreams,
Days flow, in thought filled streams
As sweet as warm wine,
Bringing back sweet memories
Of a flashing moment.


Then again, another time;
A different place, a new moment.
Another look – transfixing
Then the same feelings again’
Of recognition
And a merry smile,
And an imperceptible nod
Of familiarity
And acknowledgment –

My heart lurches, cheering wildly,
Inviting an impetuous and capricious spirit
That sets my mind whirling with thoughts…
What wonders can an inaudible sigh hold?
What marvels lies behind misty eyes?
A visage gentle and coy.
Yes – love, the endless spell of a magical look, a fleeting moment

POETRY - PROSAIC DREAMS

PROSAIC DREAMS
In torrents of anguish unmitigated;
Everyone suffers their private torments.
In moments of personal hell
Shrouded by semblance of normalcy;
No one rejoices –
In the graveyard of universal posturing.

Thought I life was as soft,
As the milky glow of
A silvery midnight moon.
But suffocating and meditating
In the dreadful depths of despair,
I still cannot fathom the mystery
For when effort unnumbered
Shout life is not benign,
The spirit flickers and blinks out.
But still –
The magnificent majesty marches on.

Though thought I
Life would be as gentle
As a placid sea,
And as sparkling as
The golden flame of a setting sun;
Now I know it is wild and wicked.

Times past,
Life’s radiant halo intoxicated my heart
Like sweet fragrance of creamy magnolias in bloom;
And thought I
It was a maiden amiable and alluring;
Seductive with rich promises
Of pleasures unimaginable.
But now know I better –
That life is a frigid lover;
A goddess with irresistible charms
At whose feet I kneel in submission,
But whose smile is scornful;
Whose beckoning is uninviting;
Whose embrace is cold and indifferent;
Whose love is a song of rejection.
And so in dejection
I am resigned to a lifetime of hopelessness
Within the blackness of a heart
Where mercifully pain benumbs
In a choreography of prosaic dreams.