Where the world stops spinning.

Picture source

Like the old times

under the shade of the tree

which stands tall and proud

somewhere in the meadow,

we will hush to sleep

the monsters of our mind

and get wild

within the silence

and drowsy smell of summer,

somewhere in the meadow

till the stars show up

and carve galaxies

beyond the lustful vision

lithely bringing alive

our old and sunken

and rusty dreams

somewhere..   

in the wild meadow

we will elude

the daunting lies

and crazy shit

you and i..   

we'll come to life

at the very juncture

where the world stops spinning

where the mess fades

out of our little picture,

we'll come to life

in each other..   

somewhere in the meadow.

______

We will always be our heroes

because we die each day in our make believe lives.

Red skies and dull streets.

Today the skies are red,

today the streets are duller.

Long taut wires

from the pole right there,

today I watch them sag

like a love-struck snare.

It's not a game but a crime is it?

when I curse you in love

in the soft hypnotic voice,

like the star that flickers incessantly

when I hem the moon

inside my bent fingers.

The red skies

and the dull streets

eclipse the 2am love making,
unopened for years together

inside one sneaky corner.

Or the technicolored dream

and the never ending verse.

I reach out,

it escapes

faster than my breath

and the hazy rays of the sun that

fail to touch the ocean's deepest bed.

It is shut, it is gone.

The dream is gone.

Because the skies are red

and my mind is beautifully torn

into crumpled dead leaves

by the footsteps on dull streets.

So I curse and smile

with fidgeting fingers across my skin.

I always knew I was a sinner.

I always knew it was a crime.

______

Picture Source

Twisted Mind

And then he stopped tracing for a while,
the seamless chaos of her twisted mind.
Everything quietened
the howling of dogs,
the chirping of sleepless birds
and the night sky.. it stayed
like a blank thought hovering without words.
_______