Violet sky
pinned with moon and star
friends in open terrace
laughter, chatter
spiralling smoke of hookahs
comfortable rumble of bellies
well efd on chocolate and italian cheese
one of the moments of "Being"
matches lit in darkness, oases in desert
that keep life going...

Undying faith

twisted and gnarled in ugly shapes
formed, deformed, crafted, made
unmade stories, words of mouth.

they sought and fought to kill it
stamp it out. clash after clash
it survived, blind

knowing neither right nor wrong
this ceaseless flame of devotion, worship
this undying faith.

A party

A party
closely knit, we live
each talking a language
different, same, all at once
head, legs, arms
mind, heart
run helter skelter thither
but strive to merge converge
the best-est of faithful friends
Me, Myself, and I.

Door handles

People are rooms with doors
with opening mechanisms
and handles
round, easy, smooth
or crooked, creaky
grating harshly when they open.
some have difficulty opening
or find it hard to shut
round or polished or lean or
thick or grumpy or bright
with different knobs
and keys of unlocking secret treasures.

Hide-Away

There's a smell in yellowed
much thumbed pages fo old books
I bury my head into them.

There's an individuality in each
much loved poem, book
book ends, old friends.

There are personalities, memories
hidden in handwritten letters
I gently rub my lips against them.

a lovely, comforting smell hidden
in hot cakes from the bakery, in good food
in the open freshly-wahes hair
gently caressing my back

pen-paper inviting me to write
listening to deliciously romantic songs
as I nod off to sleep, late nights

this is where I come to
when I hide-away.

the singing rain
music in the wind
the laughing bereze
as it tickles and caresses
the trees.
bright flowers peeping
through the wet, fresh green
glimpses of poetry.
Nature is a child again
rejoicing, celebrating
infecting, inviting us
to join in her play.

to see greys
between blacks and whites
red-pink-purple-blue
good-bad-right-wrong
dark-light-beautiful-ugly
merging into one another
certainty of meaning or
deconstructing all meaning?
finding in-betweens
joyful, colourful plurality.

adrift, afloat
a raft on a river
(beset with doubts
aimless journey without end)
needs to flow with the river
but needs to steer, paddle, row.

to find my own meaning
to flow with the river
but to create my own course.

a tree gives of itself

nurtures, bears fruit and flower

only cos it is at peace

with itself, accepting each leaf

even tiny , scrawny ones.

(only dead leaves are shed)

rooted, grounded firmly in place

the sun may scorch its leaves

at times, but the tree knows it cannot

turn from the sun and live.

to give of myself

I must accept each part

of this self, be at peace

(shed only dead ones)

I must be rooted, centred

people may scorch me a times

with biting remarks, but I cannot

turn from people and live.

a tiny speck

makes the eye burn

redden, itch

blinding tears well up

a black particle

clouds my mind over

driving me to darkness

despair.

this black (w)hole

blinds mke from Seeing.