what do you do when a touch leaves you empty?
what do you do when a sentence leaves you untouched?
what do you do when leaves scatter autumn poems only to be swept up n burnt?
what do you do when fantasies haunt the real life?
what do you do when illusions promise you a better company?
.........

i break apart...

each touch and memories of each touch...

mercury almost...flowing away untouched...

the flow beyond words...untouched by expression....

each expression piled n burned...

till ashes of creativity remained...

blown away to the far away Ganges of innocence...long polluted yet flowing.....

flowing n carrying carcasses of illusions..of aspirations and maybe even the dream lover....

all sailing along...down the sea of uncertainity and mindless depth...

only to be churned...thrashed by the waves and unmade by the currents....

thrown on the sea floor with rusted n chainless anchors for company....

sharks of the times when they ruled roost...

mobile roots of many a titanic....

and some opened n broken oyster pairs....

long lost eyes of the eternal lover...

who gave up his beloved to bejewel the harem....

incomplete stories with strains of music, sorrow and quest

for completion.....for the touch so complete....

empty....ness...

what do you do when a touch leaves you empty?

what do you do when a sentence leaves you untouched?

what do you do when leaves scatter autumn poems only to be swept up n burnt?

what do you do when fantasies haunt the real life?

what do you do when illusions promise you a better company?

.........

to be contd......

i grew up with you touch....

I remember fondling your breasts,
I remember clutching on to them
I remember your bosom was my world,
My Sun and the Moon...
Mother, I grew up with your touch!
I remember touching your fingers,
I remember kissing each one of them,
I remember your arms so strong and able
My unflailing support...
Father, I grew up with your touch!
I remember grinning at your bottom,
I remember noticing the difference, you a boy! i gasped almost! where is the hole gone?
I remember matching my dimples with those on your bum,
My sweet childhood mate....
Brother, kiddo...I grew up with your touch!
I remember you fondling my breasts,
I remember kissing your fingers
I remember we checking out the dimples on our baby's bottom
My dear....
Husband, I grew up with your touch!

when was the last time...

Writing diaries is as old as the rebelling harmones in me....
now comes a new way of putting across thoughts...
flinging them fast...far and wide in the galaxy of bytes,bits and god knows what all....
in this viscious circle of "i dont have time so i dont write" and "i dont write as i have no time" crazier gets the race sillier the running and hazier the opponents....
why run the race?why be a rat?
cliched sounded ideas so i deserted them till i became too cliched for ideas to come to me....
now i write again...its almost like having spasms...attacks..attacks of creativity..attacks of identity crises...attacks of superiority complex...attacks of non being....
so now ideas and words spurt forth...like mustard sauce sitting adamant in a bottle in a dingy pizza parlour...
slow slow n slowly they'll come..
now now shall it pour forth...
out of cracks on the plastered ego walls...out of the crumbling principle towers...out of the torn fabric of lonliness...out of the freshly cemented relationship...
woes? bygone times?suppressed emotions?fear of the forests dwelling within...
what all shall they describe?
maybe jus that all is not well in the spaces of void...all is not well in the city of thoughts, all is not well in the lighthouse of ambition...all is not well at the horizon of being...
the entity is losing light...the eyes have darkened with the shadows of failure and the brain?she has surrendered to insanity...
these pools of misery are filled with mists of confusion and haze of indecision...
let the light of optimism visit my valley..
let the words bloom in their full granduer and glory...
AMEN