Poem : Poles and Zeros


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I belong to a weather

I being a zero sum game

I being a climate of refuge

I being a filth of five elements

I being a mirth of miseries

I being a residue and a vestige

I being a myth and monologue

I belong to a withering weather

I belong to a nascent noise

I belong to a nought of noise

I belong to poles and zeros

I belong to a burning death

I belong to a frozen worm

I belong to a sentient solenoid

I , I, I, being a belonging is a burned bloom


Poem : Woodlands


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I really don’t want to write this time

I really don’t want to write this out

I really don’t want to wreak this time

I really don’t want to weave it inside

It’s so dry, dreary, dreamy, dithering spell

I am hauled and mauled by inertia

Inertia is never a frame of reference

In my moments of chaos and clusters

In my figs and twigs and fractal palms

It’s frozen fatigue and fiddle of fetish

Its flummoxed foils and ferment voices

It’s brittle core and molten saliva

Bay at hay, bruising bones

A little haste and a little maze

Wood lands, withering shades of walking wisdom, wood lands, winning over time !!

Poem : Solenoids


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I know tears can be written

I know palindromes exist

I know alphabets are stubborn

I know words are turbulent

I know waves can be erased

I know epics can be foiled

I know ellipsis can be noiseless

I know silence can be spellbound

I know footsteps can be leaderless

I know parody can be rhythmic

I know tragedy can be episodic

I know echoes can be solenoids

I know saliva can be colloidal

I know larvae is a liquid self

I know lava is a molten self

I know skin is withering self

I know shades are stymied self

I know tears are written in neural lines

I know they viper whispers

I know tears can be unwritten

Errors, Errors, Episodic Errors

Ellipsis, Ecilipse of Ellipsis

I shall remain knowing

Until the last solenoid coils

Unto the last of the equinox




Poem: Attributes of Light


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I know there are walls

I know there is some kind of opaqueness

I know there is some kind of vanishing act

I know there is some kind of invisible cloak

However I don’t know how can something

Be opaque, vanishing and invisible same time

Perhaps time is quite naive enough

Perhaps time is quite nascent enough

Perhaps time is quite niggard enough

Perhaps time is quite timid enough

It’s always in this space and time

It’s always a spectacular space

It’s always a spellbound space

It’s always a sickle sickness space

Poem : Conjugal Games


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Marked on a winter

Masked on a wrinkle


Mirroring in a breath

Minted on a ferment


Augured at a beam

Anchored above debris


Fringed on a filament

Foiled on a gauge

It’s motionless

It’s a frozen face

It’s a rabid phase

It’s a chiseled wedge

Arcane intents

Archived pellets

Mix and Match

On and on, off and off

Poem : A life after life


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Meanings in life

Purpose in life

Perhaps in my genes

Encoded, Embedded

Like granaries of infinities

Perhaps like in miseries

Embittered, embroiled

Like gems burned in soils

Perhaps it’s quite relative

Contextual, convoluted

Like you say a jigsaw puzzle

Perhaps there is nothing at all

Void, irrational, irreducible

Like the impulses and instincts

Of my born voyage

Perhaps it’s an integral sum of

My affinities, atoms and the insects

I love and sects I am born to hate

Perhaps it’s a fractal finitude

Of my broken arms, charms and arms

Like the ambiguous synonyms

I am destined to weave into this last

Perhaps it’s an ephemeral epoch

Of my sun, soil, solitude, solenoid

And burning coils and magnets

And brittle mirrors in my larvae

Perhaps it’s being written

Bringing ashes, glory, grief and gory

When I worship solar storms and Solaris

Perhaps it’s being unwritten

As I demolish and demean my tempest

Unto this utterances of prismatic promises

Perhaps it’s a synthesis of written and unwritten, like a crystal lattice unfold

Perhaps it’s a pursuit

After my musings, myriad of shadows

Lean, limbs, limping lumps of lasting leafs

I tether here and there, like a flow of pulses

I wither where and wear, waiting for warps

It’s a form of life after a firm life, long longings

It’s a firm life after a form of life, lean lenses

Like a leech, larvae, lava living lipid liquids

Poem : Spiders at Night


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Night is a web

Night is a wild web

Night is a wild wild web

Night is for owls

Night is for ominous owls

Night is for occult

Night is for optical occults

Spiders web wild at night

Spiders prey wild at night

Spiders web by lunar light

Spiders web by locus left

Spiders web by rags right

Spiders know truth by tryst

Spiders soul stich stellar signs

Spiders sketch sulking sights

Spiders seek simmering states

Night by Night

Spider by Spider

Truth unfolds in Tandem

Taxonomies of Turbulence

Night is a Wobbling Web

Poem : Water


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Water is a volume

Water is a wafer

Water is a layer

Water is a warp


Water is a velocity

Water is a viscosity

Water is a colloid

Water is a crystal


Water is a sea

Water is a wave

Water is a wind

Water is a mirror


Water is an occult

Water is a bless

Water is a bliss

Water is a beam


Water is a tunnel

Water is a funnel

Water is a furnace

Water is a vapour





Water Worms

Wander Wayward

Water Walls

Wobble and Whisper

Water Wickedness

Wiggled in

Wiggled out





Poem : Erasure


This will be a blank slate

This won’t be a blank verse

This will be a boiler plate

This won’t be a benign meet

It’s an impending erasure

It’s an immeasurable echo

It’s the sound edges of a muse

It’s the brutal wedge of a shell

It’s the brittle mask of a skull

Lesser Life

It’s about a lesser life

A lesser messier life

A liquid larvae of life

A lipid lava of life

You will come back

You will surely come back

You will surely leaf back

You will visit this foil

You will visit this foliage

You will vermin this forest

You will visit this forest fist

This will be lesser life then

This will be an easier life then

This will be a brave life when

You and I laugh at this moment

A life less, blessed

A life chess, crossed

It’s mostly a binary

Bleak white scars

Blank dark scares

Binary choices

Stark contrasts

Edible letters

Etched lips

Echo lumens

Ethereal ellipsis


I am at shore

Perhaps I was shored

An insane mundane shore

A humane meagre shore

A measure of my erasure

Abundance of evidence

Acclimation of apertures

Apertures void, lumen horrid

Agony avid,

Divided I matters

Devoid of meters

Deceptive metrics

Delighted methods

Decipher madness

Demeanour I ensue

Dialogues of mirrors

Dancing in cascades

A great greater glance

A glance of globular gyroscope


Poem : Whirlwinds


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I have had choices

Binary rationals

Canary dreams

Chiral coins

Coral chimes

I have had regrets

Boiling beams

Blistering veins

Benign baggages

Berserk bondages

I have high hopes

Humid rains

Hight of chaos

Hamlets of happiness

Hermits of heaps

I parse my poems

I mint my money

I lump my swamps

I leech my swarms

I end up in an irrational plot

Surrounded by my summer

Sulked by my shard of skins

I buy more time to tune in

A winter full of whirlwinds