illusional reality

picking up the silken threads of time weaving a coarse fabric textured like wind and sand moving on and letting go, when the journey of love is done. an episode so stirring so moving no time to think or tell just random thoughts and feelings wearing a mysterious spell; colours bright and sublime pots and pans clanging coins and desperate cries and joys that subside one step at a time gearing up for every move but when you look back at reflections all you see black white and blue... no broken hearts to mend no broken wings to sew falling on stones is easy but the red headed giants bear on.. --In memory of certain someones I loved and cherished

worldly pleasures all forgotten a quest and a search for something lost it never existed or did it? from times immemorial? the beat of hooves on solid rock or the mysterious buzzing in my ears the unclear patch of wood or all that iron rusting .and red a dangerous illusion that floats by waves in the sea or sands in the air? rounds and squares of pillars and froth. the hands of fate brewing a brackish broth. a mirage of tranquility that cheats the eye a stone against a softness so calm peace and white and warm delights. beating in rhythm the wings of a dove and a bleak dark heart. --I later found out that 'Wings of The dove' is something that very much exists as a novel (by Henry James) --The title is, thus, a complete coincidence!

old habits die hard. a moment of suspended animation all clear and blue. grains of sand. peals of laughter dying away. singing their lonely song. i see a distant vision one two three. and years of love. one weak moment and years of pain. three -to-one. three.two.ONE. fragmented mind, body and soul. a crash a fall a howl and me measure for measure tale for tale. One two three again! years and years of gain. darkness or white. i know not. swallow and chew and taste and bite. a lingering shadow sweetness and haste. and more of them to follow...

a collision sans noise. a rupture of tissues sewn together patterned and prim neat.leveled. measured and poured. mixed with the finest of colours. enhanced with liquor and art. a hand that summons. and talks to me. pulling out all those dreams gathering the reds sifting through the blacks i came across a cloth. an inch long. blue and white and sad and old. ..those were the colours he had worn tortoise shell glasses and lengths of white. and a hoarse laughter tinged with gold. seeking my eyes with his own brown.tiny.liquid and old silent smiles and confidences. reaching out with all his strength to capture the essence of perfection. wizened.desperate.wrinkled and old. a broken wing.a bleeding wound white coloured canvas; flesh coloured mound i never will know the sweet-soft sound. and the mystery of death and of stories retold. the psalms of silence. bronze figurines in snow. and of dreams immortal that have ceased to flow.

un éventail des erreurs pas de ma faute . Et lui qui peut le voir. mais personne ne répond pas. Un éclat des images. sans voix. et ceux qui existent ne peut pas les ressentir. une grillage des couleurs bleu rouge noir. comme le désir de l'homme qui ne connaît pas le frein. Et quand le Rêve se termine. on se lève une trace d'espoir. interrompue par la réalité. qui s'enfuit comme le vent qui nous taquine. rien n'est parfait. même les illusions qui dessinent le fabuleux destin des vagues, qui chante leur chanson inconnue. l'aube qui peint l'histoire de notre vie. empourpré.rouge .plein de tristesse Où la silence des morts. est prise par une impuissance absolue. une solitude qui se moque du bonheur. et moi, je reste ici attendant.espérant. celui qui n'arrivera jamais

long and dark ochre and brown. following every movement. with careless elegance. unruly curls. grazing your face. a crooked smile. going going gone. a decade of longing. doors unlocked. shores beckoning. geckos gliding on the bathroom wall. a generosity rarely seen. two little blocks of ice in the canteen and delhi. the ever reigning Queen. a Hull of glasses. far far away. waters and ships and glorious days. speeding by in a sailing ship. a mountain of confidences waiting to fly. but i know i shall have to ponder and cry. what realm of difference does it make? some tea,kind sir? or heavenly cake? yet the shadows of the past walk by. piercing through cries of the morrow. a future ,in wait. for you and me. eyes closed. a camouflage. an apparition of events and sweet smelling nights.

the song of a thousand bells. honeyed echoes of yesterday. a drop of rain. comes pouring forth. history of a tale so ancient and loved. care.concern joy promise. and a million more to come. it stays like that for years. blue and white and pink and green a game of giggles and a bout of sheen bubbles of laughter. lodged.and waiting. for It to come and make them dance. and then comes the moment of truth. silent.real.raw and crude. the agony of a tear's shame. the knowledge of the inconnu. a bundle of charm and guilt a beached whale. winds.waves.cream and gale. promises all dead and gone for things'll never be the same again.