Big brother with big stick,

Mending the lines of flock -

Stern yet caring and loved.

Big Don with big gun,

emptying pockets of shun,

cruel, uncaring and detested.

The abrupt shift,

the slice of hand,

the swap of mask,

the turn of hat,

awed everybody.

One always stumbles,

And falls to ground.

It matters to onlooker -

how gracefully they getup -

and fall in line of the great race.

When you are waiting,
And nothing happening.

Not even a fickle of wind,
Not even a leaf is falling,
Not even a cricket is chirping.

The sky blue, orange and radiant
And just stuck like a painting.

The bird in the nest,
silently staring at you.

The music from far away,
playing without a change in rhythm.

The whole nothingness is fulfilling.

Withered by the surprising storm,

Forced to take shelter here,

In this cave atop the hill.

--

Once upon an era back -

This used to be my favorite,

Too many memories floating here.

--

Then, it happened -

Gods fought a war here,

Ferociously and fiercely.

--

The whole valley and hill charred,

All that is lively is dead.

All that is green and brown is charred.

--

Gods rode away -

After a brokered truce,

Leaving all that is dead.

--

After storm passed -

Stretched and strolled -

Scanning all over.

--

Everything I glanced -

Made my heart heavy -

Destressing and depressing.

--

But at the center of it all,

Deep in the valley,

A lonely plant cheered me.

All I strive is to get into a rhythm,

And keep dancing until the music fades.

--

All this grilling, tiling and meditation -

All this spacing, dashing and tripping -

Is to find that nice rhythm I can keep dancing.

--

For so long,

I kept my eyes,

Pealed open -

Deciphering truth,

As I see fit.

I am going blind,

Little by little

Day after day.

With all this -

Bright light

Directly shed on me.

I need much more luminescence,

To make true sense -

Of what's in front of me -

All these years.

I built a glass lighthouse tower
And filled with fog
Only entagled can peak in.

But,
The machines taken over in a night
With,
Fancy vision they probed deep
Feeling me naked -
In my own foggy lighthouse glass tower.

Middle of the journey,

My eyes are burdened, burning and bright red.

I can not stop now,

Time for my three shot poison.

Across the lake,

where Salmon sheds salt,

there lies my flag.

I keep rolling

day after day.

Met an old man
on deathbed.

He smiled with grace,
and said with conviction.

"Time is the only currency -
Love is the only worthy pursuit."

I never forgot,
I never understood,
until this day.

Now,
the golden
silver clouds
are all gone.

Sun,
is shining bright.

Alas! too late for me!!
Maybe not of you.

In the beginning -

I was a white paper,
majestic, white and pleasing.

I was filled with ink of multitudes of colors,
crushed between two hot sheets.
My whole body was burning,
like in a hot coal fire -
but without any smog or soot.

Then, I was looked upon
examined by disappointed eyes,
Crumbled, fumbled and tumbled.

Then, I flew into lazy river,
wet, cold, damp, squishy.

Finally,
I am at Nirvana.
now I lost myself.
no longer exists as me,
rather just part of the flow.