To my favorite artists

So why did they not tell us
that we are not embracing the abstract?
trapped in the existential asphyxiation
we never saw our chains

Oh the strings we used to tie ourselves with
why were they so invisible back then?
You painted your wrath on canvas
with black tar and plastic
tears and blood
bones and your sweaty fingers

we bought your paintings
hung them on our walls
We embraced what we understood
when you meant to tell us something else
Oh we blind, unfortunate, rubbish humans
Witlessly searching always at the wrong spots

we never learned your satire
never were we capable to absorb your irony

Striking again and again on the same demented doors
you could have opened them from outside
gallons of our blood and tears were wasted
consumed and splattered all over the cage

The melodrama of emotions we faced
burnt our brains and nerves

or were you right back then
and were we just supposed to be wrong?
were we a part of an equation
which demanded our blood?

Aging helps none
for it takes what it gives
it eats life as the price of the truth
have we paid enough
or you need more of our tissues

it is a fair game
though quite ruthless to begin with?

If only prestige was easy
If only we were immortals.

TORTLETTE!!!!!!

(Nana Chan! This ones for you!!)

Ever so slowly in your greatness of nothingness
You swam across the jammy jellies across the creamy ocean
Swimming like a little green tortoise of the viscous world
a persona so humble and charming than ever

toddlers souls are omniscient and vivid by nature
a 100 year old toddler, you are though.
Just before the day break,
You squeak bellow the icebergs,
tickling them with your little voices,
till they giggle the Icelandic chorus.

A tiny little tortoise you are in the end
noblest are those species, those baby foxes and little hoppers
who paint together the icecaps on poles
Wasn't he the Matisse who copied your icebergs?
or was she the wolf who was scared of the winters?
Or was he the William who always ran in Trouble?
For his heroes were never new,
For they existed in you,

Oh you, little sparkle
of the eyes of the cozy winged gloomy butterfly
so bright at night
That the mariner was scared
No it was not that albatross,
It was the sparkle
so beyond his parameters of poetry
yet lovely enough for the enchanting few.

song of universe

some are loud

some are swift
few are lazy
few are just there from countless years
infinite waves of countless oceans
different, unique and alive

dare you not single out anyone

these are kids in classroom of the universe
one with a huge spectacle, one with a runny nose
a chubby kid with chocolates in his cheeks
a sleepy kid with a blue handkerchief,
few are chatting,
few missed the class and are playing football,
one of them is a teacher,
one kid has a gun in his hand, they call him a soldier

Beauty, agony, lust, love, anger,
sex, charm and bitterness
a pretty smile, an eyes wink,
a red face, a baby devil,
Emotion filled waves form countless oceans
randomness is everywhere

universe sings joy of togetherness
love is coexistence
the symbiosis of mixed emotions
of mixed universes
of mixed cultures

Purity is just an exception
every pure atom could love the other
that makes randomness pure

Isaac moved his finger,
and so moved a fragment.
the fragment circled Universe
and so moved the other fragments.

A godless society
though unbound and scattered
forms a system
which is random and pure

sanity and insanity
sing together the songs of yin yang
the dragons of emotions

celebrate their joy
and so begins the season of mating

love knows no god

Take it all away

you have hollow bones dear one
Who am I to cage you?
you were there before me and would flourish after my death
swimmer you are in beggars tears
Oh the lucky beggar,
for he has his ocean of tears

I don't have that
Dried eyeballs scrape against my eye lids
your ashes never let me close them
devastated eyes
these are red eyes with brutally sheared nerve ends

Every word I wrote had you you knew well,
how to cage those words in your blossom
Now that you are free,
so are my caged words
 I toss my metaphors up and they bid me good bye
they were yours from their birth

Why did you never took me with you?
why did you feed me my meals?
when all you had was the last crystal of sugar?

Moksha

Often wondered what my motivation was
this infinite surge of power I get
when I think of our revolution

I believed
a relation has a beginning and end
relation with my kids
and a relation with her
a relation with everyone
alive and dead

fragrances of these relations
form noises of my Eudaimonia
resonate with static of peace
is this what they call
the meaning of life?

an unknown theory
and these equations of unknowns
form three neon signs
one sign for one axis
I can define everything!
is this moksha?

a fight with mortal values
ends with a violet sunrise.
free and unadulterated
pure and undiluted
beyond these lifeless relations
there's virgin purity

this has to be
sweetest of all fragrances
from a contemporary atmosphere
filling my mental labrynthe of voids
with unknown dense fumes

beyond life, there is mortality
beyond mortality , there is moksha.

beacon

(This poetry is a work of my beloved friend Mithun Mohan, he is a true gem and a great poet! I thank him for allowing me to share this piece of art with u all)

A son's ode to his father,

like thousands before,

yet so different.

He's mine, not your.





My first day of life ,

the world felt strange.

But i didnt wait long,

I found a cradle in my daddy's arms.





The world was a sea ,

I was washed away.

A wind swept me back ashore,

Planted me on the ground.

From far away he winked at me, and said,

dont worry kid, ur pa will be around.



Time flew by,

The world asked me,

whos the greatest of them all?

Istood up ,and I stood up tall ,

It's my dad, I said.

Who else can it be?



I grew up, My Dad by my side,

The world had ambitions,

MY DAD was all I ever wanted to be.





The world was up in storms,

Agian I felt lost,

I saw a beacon and the road ahead.

His eyes were shining bright,

All I had to do was look.





I kept wandering, floating along,

when I felt lost,I looked back,

and the beacon smiled .

Reassured, I kept trodding on.





One day i looked back,

I saw the beacon dimming.

for the first time in my life,

I was scared..

I broke down, it was my only ray of hope.

I ran upto it.he smiled and said.

Just a fog kid, I'm still goin strong,

I'll be with ya all along.

Trapped

(I wish to dedicate this poem of mine to my elders who are fighting for good in Iran)

Razor sharp chills of the coldest night
I gaze at crescent behind the bars
Can air possess a murderous intent?
Whipped and molested by the cold rain drops
Again and again
A lip gloss of blood
And you said rains are pure?

I miss my lovely daughter, my husband
I miss you all
Oh Daddy! u once gave me a woolen jacket
To stay warm n cozy
I had mommy’s creams in my kitty house
And then u taught me poetry
I too recited it, flawlessly
With my chirping nine year old lips

Can you find me that tattered jacket?
Daddy, it’s really too cold here!

Oh n your poetry, Daddy
Please recite me a lullaby

I still don’t know what went wrong
For I don’t care
But I learned to fight a regime
Which should have never existed
Often wiped tears of the frown
Healed them with my feminine ointment
In the midst of a cunning abyss

Abyss awakened!
With its whips and canes it broke my back
Behind these cold ferrite bars
They caged my tender tissues
Isolated me from my rights
Threw me away from society

I breathe an air of sorrow
Its not comforting!
But at least it’s honest
For it can’t hide the cries of my tortured friends

A flickering bulb of a stupid jail
Intermittently tries to give a ray of hope
Cold walls
Empty stomach
No food from weeks
No lollypops

But I won’t cry
For I know I have a daddy
Who wants me to eat more
Be happy and dance
Who will buy me a new jacket

Hearts trapped in black robes
Need my care
Kids, need my lap

Here I am, all soaked
Waiting to get out, endlessly
Yes, this regime will break!
Rains will end with spring