intruders

there    is    something

wonderfully        happy

yet    sad     about    us

.

but    we    are    happy

while   they    are    not

so  should  we  bother?

.

for  those   who   never

dwell in the happiness

of others  are a sad lot

who   breeds  calamity

and  misery  and   thus

they    dwell     in     sin

.

they   are   not   worthy

they are but  intruders

they  will  never  fit   in..

.

.

.

inspired

you inspired me

to walk the path with you

you exuded

a zest quite unlike others

you are cute

ever more so vulnerable

when gushed

with overwhelming pride

as you rubbed

your conservativeness

all over me

I love unconventionality

you inspired me

and thought me worthy

.

let us walked on..

.

.

.

christendom

I was no king

when I made you queen

and the courts of Christendom

were outraged

when the damsels and jesters

and the learned is flattered

the bishop and knights

went on the defensive

.

I was no king

when I made you queen

and the courts of Christendom

went berserk

when God and spirit

and the sky is flattered

they stopped us

at the drawbridge..

.

.

.

deadlock

I find it strange

that you requite missing me

with mingling

that you equate concern

with intrusion of trust

.

I really don’t know

.

I find it strange

because I requite missing me

with solitude

and I equate concern

with unwavering devotion

.

I really don’t know

.

I find it strange

that we are in a deadlock

but solitude strays some minds

the same way that

mingling strays some hearts

.

I really don’t know..

.

.

.

sausage symphony

I orchestrated

a wily sausage symphony

overturing with baton in hand

flicking and mimicking

the conductor

with stark passion

at times salivating to

smother the heatwave

whilst you lay back

culminating candidly

over the extended version

of my hard copy

feeling the crescendo

towards the finale

shuddering uncontrollably

over my masterly direction

till peace

finally gave you in..

.

.

.

see saw

we are caught

on that see saw of sorts

of days gone by

we are into a game

of pushing oneself to rise

while the other falls

.

we are balanced

in an up down motion of glee

with that spacer

that wedges in between us

gripping onto that handle

riding without equilibrium

.

yet

there is new found height

with every imprint we made on that ground

whilst the world rides in momentum

we always pick each other up

when the other tumbles..

.

.

.

the sky cried

when I begged of you

to stop

you ignored  my plea

and carried on nailing

you should have

.

the sky cried

when it saw me hung

and drenched

frailly calling  on you

not to forsake us

.

but you walked away

from the storm

clinging on tightly to

your cloak of ego

disregarding my plea

.

when I begged of you

to stop

you should have

and so I walked away

the sky cried..

.

freely

you have flown away

freely

.

as you flap

and turn your head down

you saw

that I was waving at you

and uttering to you

from below

but from a height like this

and the view that holds

promise before you

you soared on

you knew

that even if you did

descend

you would have great difficulty

understanding me

because you are a bird

and I am a man

and I was not structured

with wings like yours

and moreover

you will be annoyed

incessantly

trying to decipher me

speaking in a tongue

not of your own

.

and so freely you flew on

without regard..

.

.

.

yogi

peaceful dove

on the palm

of my left hand

you placed

your heart

.

peaceful dove

you contorted

my right hand

to image the left

and on it

you planted

your soul

.

peaceful dove

as I closed my eyes

you opened up my mind

and rested in

your worries

.

in tranquility

your breath now

permeates my conscience

your sequential giving

changed me

there is speech

in this stillness

.

peaceful dove

like a yogi

I mused

at your inner beauty

in between silence..

.

.

.