Triangles.

Part 1:
The Night

I saw Triangles of Light,
Obscure in their Geometry ,
Obscure in their axioms,
Piercing through the window,
Abusing the Nights Charm,
Through the leaves of baked trees,
Piercing Into eyes.

Room full of Triangles ,
Fusing into each other ,
Like maddened squids,
of three tentacles each
Growing in their reach,
to distort everything.

In early Morning sickness,
images of Uneven proportions
screeching ,belching in ears,
jellificating gray neurons ,
as skeletons turn into ashes ,
and stars turn into rashes.

These Triangles strangle,
everything in their infatuation,
Like Giant Statues
Crushing everything with their shadows
At the most Inauspicious
time of the night ,

when chakra towers ,
of 3 and half coils
turn everything into messy fluid,
the semen ,the blood,the saliva
acidic pancreas bursting out,
when skulls suck the skies ,

These evil Triangles,
concordant and Arid,
Organic yet lifeless ,
Dehydrated with ammonia,
coming in through tubes.

These Triangles snatch and Take hold,
Of entire struggle of soul,
As fingers try to escape,
from light-year long Gutter hole,
Into the yet Unborn pieces of madness
Flashback.

Chapter 2
The Origins
when original smooth,luminous ether,
Froze to pallets of life,
in an organic ocean,
visions of eukaryotes,
to the great Gods of creation,
In busy factories,
made of a furnace of bearded stars,
Now life is created ,
In a mist of million years,
as vapours of nursery ,
turbulate ,circulate ,assimilate,
the blood of the beginning ,






chapter 6:
And To the parallel Lines,
Of energy crossing over the hills,
In erect masculine towers ,
With Gigabytes of insanity,
Fed daily to slaughter houses

Energy fed Triangles ,
By the damp rail yards ,
Where the Hungry tracks,
Gather by the blasted Crows
Where the greasy river flows

As painted feces and Faces,
Decorate a democracy ,
With Thousand unborn colors
Rising symphonies in Nail polish acetone
Celebrating their federation

The Young ogres
Taking Delight in pages and Pages,
Of Rotten ,mutilated Corpses .
In rhythmic pulses of liaisons,
Every moment.


The Prophetic gizmo Boys,
And Their Dirty Girlfriends
Video Game Visionaries ,
Shooting the naked children
From a rising chopper for fun.
As justice poops out
of Their fatty splashed doors.

In the barter temples ,
Seeding the snake crops,
Embroidered by Plastic bags ,
And the pulp of broken Glass
The Triangles whoop and play,


Three sided Nuclear Joker ,
In chain reactions ,They intermingle.
Blessed Triangles upon Blessed people,
Then The triangles swim ,
In concentrated aspirin.

In smoky movie theaters ,
Horizons shrink to pus,
An accidence of mere Ideas,
Vulgar, obscene, passionate, Bizarre ,
In coffee House by inverted Bats .

Rants of self declared saviors
and ugly feminine freaks,
With spoiled milk oozing out ,
Of their tasteless bosoms,
Reconstructing their frozen fathers
in distant idiotic images.

The Triangles Triumph and stay

Chapter 4:
Alexander ,Ceaser,Atilla,Chengiz Khan,
Stories of Heros and Naked clans,
Rape the women,squash the enemy,
Put sticks in holes of conquered bodies,


Chapter 7:
Music,Music,Music,
Outside of the moving window,
As wind touches the blades,
Of shy,glossy grasses
To the left ,Masses
Mass of Masses sloping down,
Maddened Masses
Glorious Masses
Orchestral masses
Harmonic masses
On a Grand stage,
A trillion tongues
Shouts of Moye ,Moye,moye.
In the Oil rain ,In Nuclear train,
In Violet Pain,In rusted shame.
Its Finale.Final Hope.
Thus The Vision of Triangles,
In supra-optic nerve ,
Transcends now to the Final word.
(incomplete)

Tune of Moon

Tune of Moon
in the populace of a herd,
reverberating
by their naked bodies,
bouncing back ,
a distorted reflection
in tents
of pressure waves
it dissolves into
the atoms of Moon
From where it came at first,
now nullified
it returns,
crossing the land of Gandharvas,
The Tune of Moon,
Like a sword of thin leaves,
fuses with its womb.

Tired man's bowl.

A tired man's Bowl,
Full of dust ,
coming of waves ,
Incessant crest,
of His passionate waste .

From door to door,
tree to tree,
like a sage he moves,
A sage who knows too much.
But the passions yet unburnt .

the tapering leaves,
Moon peaks through ,
Mercurial ,silvery flash.
Into the tired mans bowl
is now a haunting scroll.

Man's desires

I will let you a secret,
of man desires,

He desires of what he is
most afraid of,
unlike women
who desire
what they are most tuned with,

A man desires ,
Lust in his renunciation
Renunciation in his lust,
He looks for stars in dust
and dust in Stars.


Cursed forever,
he wanders in robes,ropes,
Saffron,yellow,white,
afraid of his own desires.
Running away,
from the distant hopes.

Ocean of Misery

I was looking for peace,
as a Shrouded shrimp,
In this Ocean of Misery,
Samsara.
In all its eight corners,
with my proud horses running,
In purity ,In beauty,
upon all those abstract tiles,
But It was not so simple,
May be I was too complex,
for this simplicity of Peace,
May Be I still am,
The same shrimp,
In his shame ,sanity and shackles.
And the same samsara,
vanishes not.
Like a Nightmare ,
at which you look in desperation,
Hoping it gets over,
Just Like a Hooked dove,
tired of all the struggles
Looking for silence and peace,
The Final Peace.
But the Ocean is too vast,
Even for my long past.
I found it not in her bosom,
where I hide many times,
Nor in melody ,
Nor in Rhythm.
Or rhyme,this or that.
I know not when it ends,
I know not how it ends,
I know not why it ends,
I just hope,
It ends.

It

IT cannot be heard
Because there is vast vacuum
between two ears
two Yonis
of billion light years

These images
they are largely active
from flames of fleeting furnace
of the annihilation
of two.

Between the eyebrows,
comes the Sun,
Engulfs everything,
This or that.

beyond everything...

I was always beyond everything,
Like a slow wave of time,
beyond the dark ocean of space,
Half particle,
Half wave.
Nothing changed
even after so much of change,
So that every blue leaf,
Out of life,
now looks strange.

yet I was beyond and beyond,
Of every three-fold Bond,
Of life,
Of love,
Of death.
For I was never born ,
here nor there.
Neither shall I die
here nor there.
Canvas I was,
For triple point,
and Phase.
Like water ,
turning its color,
to light,
Light like faint violet,
On which
every flower is synthesized.
like troubled birth of beings,
Luminous like a starball,
That whom we call men,
floating as Hungry Ghosts,
to descent upon the Glue
of life
the organic soup
From which
A thousand tentacle emerge
of darkness ,whiteness

Yet I was aloof,
all that time
when Monkeys were walking
and the tail shrinked
a Billion years ahead
to the year zero
of start of beings
oscillating to and fro
in thousand such
aeons.
I was aloof
I was beyond everything
ever,always.never.

who cares anymore?
if the words make sense,
who hears anymore?
what birds may lend ,
This was not supposed to be here
nor you,
But we both are,
so what do you say?
were you beyond me?
when I was beyond everything?
Can you see these layers?
that condense
upon every moment of moist
a cold thin droplet
onion peels,
to strong
and suffocating
the very meaning of life,

I see what you cannot
Thats why
I say what you cannot.