I had a rendezvous
with my own ‘self’
slightly glancing at me
What detoured
in between the wink
Took
A longer howl –
in an unusual surprise
DETOUR
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Author Archives: tapeshwar
Long Trick
What haughty air
You stoop a walk
by your subtle decay
O, the knightly crumpled man
Every yarn you weave
Cobbling together
the imperfections of your life
Ultimately –
by being born with milk breath
Toothless; you are
Rattled by death
All life’s long trick; rests
into
A quiet sleep and an infinite dream
Rovering around the hinterland
Relief
It never was
So scary, about
the darkness of the night –
The other day, when
all those hazy and translucent images, came
Birthing from nowhere with a howl –
morphing into each other
like an overlapping movie reel
and
Putting up a bizarre images, melting under its
Seemingly dark cry
Did
A unicorn
of its non existent belief –
And
What relief I found
about the sludge
Wasting over my fearful face, as
All those nightly dreams
Went, vanishing away
An Excalibur shining –
The first ray of the morning sunshine
Nature’s Way
From the furthest corner
of the sky
A meteorite, came
Falling down the crater of the moon
A new birthing stood up
by its collision –
Peeping up a dark cry
from its deeper depth
Can an alchemist predict
the lamenting of the sun –
How far it can flare around
The depth
of its beating heart
All Nature’s way!
Dwellings
Just you happen to
shrug yourself from me
Slicing your thoughts
What dwells internally
inside your tabernacle
in your ghostly wishes
Commensurate with the
Will of my heart
Nonconformist that I become
Detachment
You meditate
on the silent road;
Nirvana,
You have already attained
falling down from a tree
Morning broom –
Sweeper sweeping the road
Leaves!
I know not, when
You will be found
on the garbage heaps, or
Burned like a pungent smoke
Detachment,
All detachment
Placed
Now,
that you have crossed an ocean
with a furlong
I am getting, loved
by your longer stride
How and when
the floating petal
took to its bigger steps
I wonder my eyes, and
Found placed on the other side
I Fly My Kite
Endless, that
I perceive the ending
of the skies
Passionately, that
I fly my kite
holding the string tight
into my hands, and
slowly-slowly
my blindness
Take a firm grip
of my intensity –
Higher ever higher
Quietude
How you weave
Strands
of my silence.
No thought, nor
Any language
Could
take
Gesture of my forebearance
than
But by keeping me mum –
Reveling passively
The dance
of my, utter
Quietude
Cultural Zeitgeist
Much, that has been
of traditional values and conformities –
A deference towards authority:
The faith, and the faith bearer of yore –
Our golden time
Have taken a worn out look
in our rush
to bet with the running time
Peace have shed its skin, in
Temporal pause.
On all fronts
We peeve blood
out of our wounds
Chased our patience away to seven hills
Made a mockery of our faces –
Upping our angry beat
This, the Zeitgeist!