Truth is but a dream not broken

Love is but a care not forsaken

Tomorrow is but a hope that’s soaking..

The colors of yesterday, but today’s not taken.

Heaves and flows

This melancholy day

Rivers of dreams

Bare and gray

 

Never a sound

Never a smile

Drops of rain

Just stop a while

 

Come and go

Darkness, flow

Never say never

Transient, let go

Black and white entangle,

Landscaped across boundaries,

Truth and lies collide,

Welded in illusion’s foundry.

.

Heavens rain and flood the soul

Peace rages with doubt

Questioning cries echo in silence

Yet succor has no clout.

.

The depths speak of infinity

And vows of forevermore

But reason unreasons with wisdom

And doubts it searches galore.

.

But man cannot change the course of a river

Nor the binding strength of gravity

Nor the writing engraved on a rock

Not even the his own mortality.

.

And so he walks towards the light

The light that gives him hope

He knows not where the light leads to

– To paradise, or the rope.

Sleepless nights with stars out bright

Lonesome, thoughtful, pensive plight

Darkness drowns out sound and sight

Nooks and corners filled with quiet

..

In this quiet he comes in slow

No sound, no hustle, on tiptoe

Knowing smiles in the neon glow

A strange vibration from the core

..

I know this touch, I know this smile

I know the eyes, there is no guile

I know him new, yet I know awhile

His calm, his peace, his sudden rile

..

But the hand that holds can also throw

For what he hides, will he not show

Gods take back what they bestow

All my highs slide in to the low

..

In this low he walks out slow

No sound, no hustle, on tiptoe

His face etched deep into the glow

A strange heartache from the core

..

I will but always know his smile

His gentle eyes, they do beguile

I know him old, I know since a while

He is a rock, he is an isle

..

So here I am , a sleepless night

No glow, no moon, no stars out bright

No warmth, comfort or strength in sight

Lonesome, thoughtful, pensive plight

 

In the corner, I see a deuce

Always accusing, always obtuse

Moments of pain, eons of abuse

Yet, no voice, no proof – no adduce

.

Mute, as sharpness slashes skin

Mute, as blood runs shallow and thin

Mute – all strangers, fake, no kin

Surrendered, hopeless it’s always been

.

But the river changes course in a day.

Red and blue, they turn to gray.

Clean sharp edges tend to fray.

Atheists believe, and love and pray.

.

Change in constant, change is true

Change is old, change is new

I know, I think, I feel, I too

Can break chains, shackles, queue

 .

So, raise the bar, nothing to lose

Not yet time to hang the noose

I see an empty corner, there’s no deuce

No pain, no fear – so none to abuse

.

As I listened to Yann Teirsen on a cold rainy morning, these words crept into my mind:

Often times I find myself in the dream
Mellow and calm floating down the stream
Lost in words, myself, summer rays
Sweltry heat and long long days

Often times I dream about this river
See my feet glimmer under the water
Feel the cold wetness of blackened weed
And nibbly fish who want to feed

In this sultry dream I often smile
There is no pretense, there’s no guile
The world stands still and shadows wait
There is no early. There’s no late.

But often times this dream ends quick
While I lie stranded with a corner kick
Those violins stop playing in my head
Nothing is done, and more not said

As I walk on to the journey’s end
Often times with words that are never penned
I criss cross the landscape of my mind
But what I long for I cannot find

Another shore and another face
Golden eyelids they always trace
Those lonesome clouds float across the sky
As often times I wonder why.

Quiet is, as quiet stays,

Drizzling, pouring into each little nook

Coppery sunset shines out there

While I stare blankly at the open book

.

Quiet is not my state of mind

Hurricane thoughts galore

The evening tip toes out there

As I sit here wanting more

.

Quiet is all I want sometimes

Quiet is what I never get

The might of humanity surges together

While I simply… wait

.

Night quietly tip toes in now

Evening was just a dream

Quiet sits silently waiting

But all she does is scream

.

Because quiet is, as quiet stays,

Pouring into each little nook

Nightfall and darkness out there

While she stares blankly at the still open book

.

The grey and white and indigo flow
Into each other, never fighting
That’s when I hear the footsteps ring
Ominous, yet strangely inviting

.
The footsteps, how they resonate
Through the columns straight and tall
The shadows flicker and tremble
And ripple With every footfall

.
The watercolor evening stands still
Thrill hangs heavy in the air
Liquid breaths rush inside
As I strain my ears to hear

.
The footsteps stop. Should I turn?
Drops of doubt cloud all judgement
Omen? Augury? I know not
This new feeling I cannot vent

.
Indigo seeps into blackness
As dark shadows pool into a lake
Eons unite with fractions
And that is when I awake

.
The colors are all vibrant here
Its daybreak, not night
Light playfully fights with shadows now
And silence, she is in flight

.
Was it all a dream then, I wonder
The darkness and the fear?
What about the thrill and doubts
And those footfalls, so near?

.
Answers are but new questions
And truth, over reality a drape
Tonight is certain, and with the night
Those ominous, yet inviting, footsteps.

Misty views of sun kissed foam

Out here in the wilderness

Froth and sand and surf all comb

The darkness of her tress.

.

The god of war is asleep now

Out here the silence drowns

The sound of love and lust and fear

It dulls the tears and frowns.

.

She aches inside, oh how she aches

The voice of reason subsides

Hazel eyes raid and invade

But from him all doubts they hide

.

She will learn one azure day

The judas kiss lies in her mind

In the midst of chaos and turmoil

A heart of gold in him she will find.

.

Yes a heart of gold she will find.

Lazy hazy days of summer.

Fluffy white clouds… Marshmallow . Blue skies… Azure. Green dewy grass… Fresh.

Picnics. Long Drives. Walks in the park. Staring at the sky. Sleepy afternoons. Cold milkshake. Mangoes. Drops of rain. Splattering of rain. Torrents of rain. Hot masala chai. Power cuts. Night outs. Ice creams. Frozen Popsicles. Iced tea. Cold cold coffee. Fruits salads. Cold cuts. Sleeveless. Long showers.

Really long showers.

Beaches. Sea. Waves. Swims. Tender coconut. Sun. Sand. Holidays. Relaxation. Pampering. Cool evenings after hot sunny days. Tall glass of margarita. Slushy crushy ice. Sleepy eyes. Fall asleep at dawn. Wake up mid-morning to a sweaty hot day. Picnics and long drives again.

All these and more. Oh, those lazy hazy days of summer!