to the rocks

for my youth
i heard all the music of the rocks
it was hard but it was good
it was rough but we learned to like them all
nothing destructive
just the surging and the hilarity
of the roller coaster
ride to
the present stage,

and now,
to the rocks shall everything be,
i keep the career
and i cannot keep both,

soon, i shall shy away from
any contractual obligations
i have my own reasons
so shall the other party,

and the judge of all time,
God, or man, or everyone one,
shall say,

we agree, the binds are too strong
but somehow there is a word
to loosen it,

they are right,
they have called it by the name of chains
iron locks,
nightmare clocks,

at night, you see a face without eyes and ears
and there is that big scream


on those days
you keep on watching how the wind is robbing
the trees of their leaves

and then
at the end, you realize that there is nothing that you need

the nothingness engulfs you
and then happily
you embrace its arms, you rest, you are gone

you leave a note to the sands,
forget everything
leave all as they are.

venus raj

i should have
been fearless
i could have answered
the question with

'it is none of your
business! '

the truth

brace yourself
to all these lies
for in the next room
at the next door
and at the next window
and at the next
open porch after all
these lies
may be truths
and you are no longer
willing to believe them
because they too
know how to hurt you

last night

last night i had
a single pill of 'x'
you know what
it is
do not make any
pretensions
it did not obstruct
a word
it slipped right though
smooth and easy
and then
the usual things happen
i am into this garden
they call Eden
and there is this Eve
and the apple
and of course the snake
i still doubt whether
i was God or
i was simply
the sinful Adam

when i wake up this
morning
my body was as heavy
as the Titanic
which as you well know
sank.
my mouth is sewed
with invisible thread
and i can feel
the pain in my lips
my teeth are imprisoned
soldiers
i want to eat some of
my words for
breakfast
but i cannot.

you see? this happens
sometimes
and so what we can do
is simply sit on one
of the chairs drenched
by last night's rain
at the porch
and just be silent.

the poetry

it is not
in the metaphors that
we invent from
day to day
those that we see
in things that
we dress for ourselves
those that we
think can speak what is
unspeakable in
our beings
which in any way no matter
what we do
remain unspeakable
because they are.

the poetry in us
is not the poem.

do not ask me
it is nothing