Digital Dream

His name: crosses yours
Her reply: publicly so, no threat
private message, 

messenger, 

instantaneous
Some form of reciprocation, understanding
all he has is the idea of you
He will fall in love with the idea of you in lieu of your touch taste
but all so soon once again,
he's lost in his head and you fail to appear
Do you really want to remove this person from your contacts list?
it as was what once it has always been,
a digital dreams serving us as sideline
He went looking for you in that dream anyway
Can you hear him in your memory now..!
A little egg of plausible response the mystery of spark or nothing

We burn alone in this room alight with a glow

We're monitored without emotion throughout it all

Our beds are calling, in our lonely distant homes. 

A question of two strangers who share the same desire.
Each wanting to start what they hope will be a burning fire.
A glimpse of the future provided by another,
Developed an usual encounter an, “Internet Lover.”
The words they exchanged capture their attention like a spell,
One says a joke, the other writes .. a harlequin story she could tell.
Already both have shared stories disclosing things in their past.
And they share what they feel will form a love that will last.
A common bond that has intrigued both and has them wanting more.
A new endeavor embraced by both, a journey together they will explore.
And if something should happen causing the burning fire to end,
Both internet lovers made a promise to always remain internet friends.

All the morning

Someone said my name in the garden, while I 

Grew smaller in the spreading shadow 

Grew larger by my absence to another,
Grew older among the ants, ancient
under the opening heads of the knowledge flowers,
new to myself, and stranger.
When I heard my name again, it sounded far,
like the name of the child next door, or a favorite cousin visiting for the summer,
while the quiet not thankful seemed my true name, a near and inaudible singing
born of hidden ground.
Quiet to quiet, I called back.
And the birds declared my whereabouts all morning.

From blossom, to sweet

From blossoms comes this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the joy at the bend in the road where we turned toward signs painted Peaches.
From laden boughs, from hands, from sweet fellowship in the bins, comes nectar at the roadside, succulent peaches we devour, dusty skin and all, comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.
O, to take what we love inside, to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilant of peach.
There are days we live as if death were nowhere in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom, to sweet

If

If at all
the heaps of wealth should take us, that should be towards generosity.
the praises showered should fill in us, that should be feelings of humility.
all the experience should teach us, that should be more and more simplicity.
the strength should provoke in each of us, that should be solidarity and humanity.
the love should sow in each of us, that should be seeds of empathy, sympathy.
the God could preserve in each of us, that should be purity and sincerity.
and If at all,
at the end we could take with us, that should be heart full of love's ingenuity.

Wills in a broken hearts

Wills is the thing which keeps us living,
and love is the thing for which we keep on living,
when wills is shattered we start to die,
and when heart is broken we long to die.

A single grain may not go waste

Hundreds and thousands have toiled under the scorching sun of summer,
to grow the food which so comfortably we eat.
think of food as the fruit of labor of thousands of hours,
rather than just rice and wheat.
millions die due to lack of food, so is their fate,
but we are lucky to have every time enough in our plate.
we may never go to the fields to produce the food,
but my friend 'food saved is food produced'.
so lets take a vow today to put in our plate only that much which we can eat,
so that even a single single grain may not go waste.

just two lines

Weakness is a sin, softness is a power,
infatuation a disease, love holy flower

Just like the days, when i used to be a child.

A Laugh is the gentle blow of a wind,
which cools down the heart for a moment,
but a Cry is the rain which washes away,
the dirt of pain off the heart forever.

Have the knowledge,
learn about the things,
but become not prisoner of a cage,
seek to fly as if it were your wings.

The desire is intense,
the passion is wild,
just like the days, when i used to be a child.
The eagerness to learn,
the will to burn,
are again as bright,
just like the days, when i used to be a child.
i know i can do it,
i know i can achieve it,
the confidence is just right,
just like the days, when i used to be a child.
neither i fear from anyone,
nor i lack the courage anymore,
i am always ready to give a try,
just like the days, when i used to be a child.
i have lost all the pride,
no traces of ego in me anymore,
i am humble again with simple smile,
just like the days, when i used to be a child.  

Loneliness

Loneliness is a blessing for those who want to pursue something great,
but a curse to an idle child, for his play who needs a mate,
for a scientist with time it may open some inventions gate,
but may kill a lover for his beloved who no longer can wait,
in the end it all depends upon our state, that how it will taste.

Back to thee

How shall peace be upon me,
when i don't live as asked by thee,
how shall in my heart, a picture of yours i see,
when i cannot keep, my heart of passions dirt free,
how shall your guiding light, my eyes see,
when i have turned, a blind eye to thee,
how shall my judgements, be error free,
when i don't listen to my conscience, by which you speak to me,
how can i say that i love thee,
when i cannot do, the bare minimum you ask of me,
how i can i be ever happy,
when i have lost all touch to thee,
but i know you always and shall always love me,
all need is to turn back and come back to thee

Life stages

When we are a kid 

we have to cry for everything,
When we are a child 

we have to ask for everything,
When we are young 

we have to work for everything,
When we are old 

we have to reach for everything.

Oblivion is a grace but I haven't

He; to his wife,
If days can talk, baby it could say what words can't.
How much i love you,
How we use to make it right, we live and love so bride
Ya ..
Sometimes it was Joyful,
Sometimes it was Painful, but it's always full, Full of bright
How much i love you, is how much i be your guide with all my sense of polite
Words really can't tel how in our life battle, for only you .. i can fight
Watch.. Just watch the darkness always gives birth to Sunlight
Tell me how can i stop the time, i wanna hold you all the night

 She; with a smiling eyes
Goodbye, the only word i hate the most in our life
Being lost, losing my way, lose the senses of nights and day
You should know, you are the candle of my past darkness, in a kindness presents life.
Please stay, only one more day .!!
Never let me alone, you know .. my loneliness without your existence; will be my future life.
Do you think.. i forgot .. No, women never forget .. Happy birthday.Nine years later;
-He; On his knees, laying roses around her.. Cold Grave
Someday you left, giving me no time, to even say goodbye
but you know;
With all the same admiring in my love,
With all the same love in my heart, to you .. I'm waiting.
With all the same fear; that day; when i lost you,
With all the same happiness, when you're here, beside me, asking me to stay..
I do and I'll be.. strong and without any regret .. I'm waiting
Yes .. It's so hard, Do you know; I almost with life can't fight
May my God takes the soul to touch yours, Holding your hands even to a while
OH;
Ago.. You afraid our last Goodbye,
Today.. I'm waiting our next hello
If days can talk it'll show you what words can't.
Crying you a river, will never bring you back
But my love for you .. still, so bright.

Shoo, listen

Man tries to win himself

We push the land back with our feet,
and it moves us forward into the street,
and i wonder who can be more generous than it is. 

Oh,
Many a fights man have fought,
many a fights man will fight,
but the war worth waging most,
but the fight worth fighting most,
is fighting the demons within you,
to weed out all the negativity,
to kill the lust, anger, greed,
pride, jealousy, hatred, animosity,
so that the one god shines in you,
and in the battle no one gets hurt,
still there is the greatest victory but,
you have killed what truly was not you,
you have found who truly are you,
and with the holy light shinning in the spirit,
there is nothing but peace, happiness for you,
and with each man having won himself,
there will be no need to win over someone else,
and thus all wars will come to an end,
except the one in which man tries to win himself

Inner light

When you yourself know that you are right,
its nothing to worry because you can fight,
it does not matter how dark it is outside,
because you are guided by your inner light.

You can never raise yourself much

You can never raise yourself much, by comparing yourself with others, today you are trying to outdo someone, tomorrow you will be bothered, by the achievements of some other.
You will be happy and bloat with joy, on the day when you beat the people, about whom you have started to bother, but then you will feel sad and doomed, when you will be outdone by the others.
just sit and think for a moment, would the world have seen great works, of Einstein, newton and wright brothers, had they spent all their time thinking, how many fish today caught their neighbor.
from where Picasso, Vinci would have produced, such beautiful and great works of art,
had their mothers and fathers always, kicked their butt and pushed them, to follow and to be like someone other.
Great scriptures and great men always say, true success always comes to those, who follow their heart with faith and courage, work with patience, passion and diligence, while treating and helping everybody as brother.
And moreover at the end of the day, will you still count that as success?
though living in a grand mansion, but inside of you still burning with the fire of animosity, hatred and anger.

Can you listen with your eyes?

I can hear crying all over the earth tonight,
sad children in the windows of their eyes longing for things
they dream of growing up to make come true,
fireflies in wishing wells the shadows drink from
on the moon where the spirit's lost and found dwells
like a small glove shed like a skin of moonlight years ago
as we grew out of ourselves like shells of the dawn in the morning,
waiting for some flesh and blood human hand
to loop back like a habitable planet in its second innocence
and come and claim us like life on Mars again.
The return journey of the morning glory to unmapped islands
we set out to explore, each to our own star,
like the lifeboats of newly-hatched turtles running
from the cosmic eggshells of our abdicated crowns of creation,
toward the abysmal shore of our oceanic aspirations,
each of us enduring the transformative initiations
of our shape shifting hearts on the thresholds
of the endless event horizons of the black holes and rainbows
that beguiled us with their joy and despair deeper
into the mirage of the music believing in this desert of stars
even here we could hear the mermaids singing,
and pluck pearls of enlightenment from the third eyes
of oysters open on the beach. Or the mouths of books
that had lost their place in the universe, left open
gaping in the sand at the incontrovertible signposts of the stars.
So many echoes from home you can't help but lose track
of your soul sometimes along the way trying like the rain
to better the world like a green tree ring pinging
the heart wood of a petrified forest like a tuning fork
or a witching wand that might break into blossom yet
if only we don't give up like grails and constellations
looking for the watersheds of the shining whether
they're dragons that swallow the moon to bring the rain
or the bell weathers of irreversible delusions
that fill the abyss with the elixirs and love potions
of our intoxicating affair with our own laughter and tears.

Over the course of the intervening light years
the lost flight feathers of many strange skies
under our wings, lonely prayers in the moonlit tents of the doves
growing like morning glory all over the childhoods
we abandoned like buckets beside the wells we fell into
like hourglasses of quicksand leaking out of ourselves,
like stars from the perfect bodies of contiguous time and space.

We're exalted in the midst of our humiliations. We're humbled
by the excess of our celebrations. We ghost dance against
the gathering thunderclouds of preeminent war
like a guild of sacred clowns and shepherd moons
on tour in protest against the bulwarks of gravitas
enslaving third world planets, and for a time, our hearts
feel like angry strawberries glowing in the starfields
as if Aldebaran had just blue-shifted toward the spiritual life
of the Pleiades, and were young again, the red flame
of the poppy in its blood that dreams of sustaining
and renewing life, even if it be just the tender green placard
of a leaf unfolding in the ashes of our urns, one
shy tendril of morning glory seeking the light
in the terrible stillness of an implacable abyss,
we are made young again, clear again, by the gusts
of a moody, blue muse of emotional hydrogen
flaring up in us like the inspiration for goblets and fountains
of cool white flowers hanging our bells and trumpets
like music growing all over the cedar hedges in the early morning.
Can you listen with your eyes? Can you see with your ears
how the ghosts of the stars walk the earth at night
in the flesh of flowers blooming like chicory along the roadside
in the blue irises of the eyes of September, or in gardens on the moon
left untended by the gentle rains of our imaginations
for more childhoods than there are watermarks in the heartwood
of the tears it took to get here like rootless trees
spreading across the earth like an unplanned pilgrimage
of exiled immigrants returning to the ancestral shrines
of their prophetic skulls burning like prodigal stars
in the spacious windows of our visionary homes?

Realizing at last, if nothing else from our insights into life,
the star-maps of the fireflies at the headwaters of our source
aren't bounded by the hearthstones of our wandering hearts
where the vagrants lay their heads down at last
on the hard pillows of the moon rocks they brought back with them
to dream of breathing new life into the lost atmospheres
of their childhoods returning like the lyrics of the night birds
to a wheeling mobile hanging like a windfall of planets
and dancing apples from the rafters and boughs of the ceilings
that couldn't keep the lid on the toy boxes of their bedrooms
or the hoods on the marvellous third eyes of the falcons
perched on the tree limbs of their telescopes in the corner
trying to see into the dark as far as the wingspan of their light will let them.

What a lifeless life.

In this life everything has changed, 
Life itself is lifeless.......
Communications are wireless, 
Transmissions are codeless, 
What a modern life.
Nights are dreamless, 
Hopes have become hopeless, 
And love has become loveless, 
What an endless life.
movements are aimless, 
And desires are useless, 
Oh what a life
Care is careless
Days are countless.
And forever is endless, 
Oh life what a lifeless life. 

Crushed dreams

Sorrow, regret, misjudgement, betrayal, 
Are just few parts of this hell called life, 
Life is just an empty shell, waiting to be filled, 
With sorrowful emotions, to torture us, 
Life use to be sanctuary, once upon a time, 
Filled with joy, peace, harmony and enlightenment, 
But greed, war, politics, pollution and power, 
The modern creations, have made life pointless.
So this torture called life remains to this day, 
Crushing the dreams, of many a soul, 
I wish for all life, to be in harmony, 
But by life, as usual, my dreams were crushed. 

A true life lesson

Nothing worth having comes easy
The process is slow
From deep down below
It patiently grows
Till a tiny bit shows
The only thing constant is change
It always occurring
Can be unnerving
Sometimes disturbing
Life keeps you learning
Mean what you say and say what you mean
Words are the bond
Tells where we're from
The things we have done
And what can become
True love isn't perfect
You'll only regret it
Unless you accept it
Always respect it
That's how you protect it
Treat others as you want to be treated
I firmly believe
The love we achieve
Come from good deeds
What you give, you recieve

Middle age problems

I am too old to learn new tricks, yet too young to forget the old tricks
I am too old to care much about anything, yet i am too young to stop caring entirely
I am too old to become reckless,
Too young to play it safe
Too old to be afraid of the future,
Too young not to be scared by today
Too old to play ball,
Too young to be out of the game
I am an awkward age