Dreamy Eyed Race

Visions of Angels are not scarce,
for us,young dreamy eyed Race.
Some say that aint real ,
But what is real anyway?
Nothing is ,not even science,
If you can Contemplate the Quantum Play!

Where the electron spins,
In her own ideas of waves,
In the great Atomic Grace,
Not knowing who she is ,
Yet never the momentum cease

Such is our world ,
Of dreamy young eyed race,
Into the intergalactic space
Where we see our Angels Dancing,
In the starry cradle of dust ,
Where birth is, without lust

Born are our dark angels ,
From Supermassive Black holes,
That hang in emptiness ,
They must be laughing at you,
Who say order is due,
Who pomp in their reason ,
Caught in the rational prison,
Of rules ,structure,season

But Universe is Chaos ,a Haze,
A happy wobbling tear,
on the Angel’s face ,
And For our Dreamy eyed race ,
This is the only Holy bet!

The longing, ancient and eternal,
beyond poet's words,
beyond Philospher's boards,
Nothing to be done ,
Nothing can be done,
when water has evaporated ,
whats the use of the bowl?

whats the cause of the mysterious?
whats the source of it all,
this longing is not sadness,
for it is too sweet,
to be anything that uncouth ,
its distilled sorrow,
pure in its lineage of fogs,
of centuries ,
That stir a soft man's heart
Man who longs for the secrets,
not for any desired effects
But for that uncontrolled pulse,
to drink life at one go!

But then this unfinished journey ,
both bitter and sweet ,
maddening and wisening,
resurrecting and damning,
murdering and saving ,
is still My most prized possesion

That supernatural has installed in me,
this eternal blood ,
that dries not,
nor does it clot.
So kind the supernatural to me
That I seek not kindness
nor a fairness ,
anywhere else .
In the ordinary world,
of ordinary people,
Let them come and be unkind,
Not a muscle I will stir
i will just rejoice in the longings,
Mysterious,ancient ,eternal!

sweet sadness

what soft burdens of this heavy Plight,
That in this sweet sadness I delight ,
morrow be when the duty calls ,
let me just die again tonight !

Upon Thy bosom let me play,
Upon thy lips let me stay,
let me drink to thine eyes,
lest I burn and you the flame

If I cant prosper in sunshine,
of that beauty ,innocence thine,
then let me atleast be a refuge ,
in shadow of your unseen smile

Young men

When Young men vanish silently,
what misfortunes could those be,
Men like Lions ,strong and pure,
Yet alone always ,
what do they endure?
when women chasing them,
yet in their full beauty,
they turn away,
what Hurt that must be?
what makes them Happy ?
what love they seek?
what dreams they dream?

The ordinary world Knows not ,
This sorrow ,nothing personal ,
This madness not of impressions ,
who can stand by those ?
who dares float the forest fire?
who acknowldges a silent desire?
None.

The world has business,
thousand things,useless,
but their hearts empty
how will they hear,
songs of those
who disappear,

But the rare Kind walk alone ,
like an untouched stone,
rolling into great rivers,
never seen,never heard ,
they travel to the ocean,
till the end of this Holy life ,
But sadness never touches them?
who knows and who has the care !
for those who vanish into thick air

Orisons

We live in a world ,
strange yet straight .
Where drowning silences,
open the heaven's gate .

And Man' shadow ,
on the yellow streets
asks for forgiveness,
in maddening feats

-And yet Hope,
The mother of all .
Blesses our nights
with holy scroll.

That Man may become
what he pleases to be ,
whence fear is absent
and love is free!



where the songs of sorrow ,
never absent nor tired
but despair no more ,
in sublime desires .

where wind brings joy,
of autumn and spring .
and music mirrors the mire,
of every little thing

There may reach ,
my purified orisons ,
In God's lap ,
beyond tranquil horizons.