Shape of fear

A shape cuts through a sleep
By twin hillocks like a rabbit

Scampering away from fear.
Fear was shape like a snake

Crossing our paths in hillock
With creeper in rock crevice

Crawling upon a recent rain
From a skin empty after fear.

Fear was a shape of son talk,
His words vaporized in tree

In wind that swayed a baby
Like mother’s love, in bricks

She carried , on a cloth head.
Mom carried bricks like fear

On a cloth ring on her head.
A fear about baby son’s fall

Swayed a tree’s cloth swing
In sleep, a shape called son.

Mixed up

You are mixed up on almond
Where there is entire history

Of words in leaves open now,
As maroon ones will fall later.

You are in  yearly November
To prove to be alive to world

With the sophisticated poem
To pinch yourself , still alive.

Beating a drum

All things are writable about
While heart yet brags a beat.

It is still writable about, says
Plath who wrote everything.

The heart’s brag confirms it.
Heart yet brags about a sun

With a sea that pushes it up
Every morning ,like routine.

In that window, it is routine.
Cancer has heart that brags

That it still owes sun its fall.
But heart still beats a drum.

We are thinking all this

There was creeper in hill  crevice
Greedy for sun in the wild world.

We thought sun went on for ever
For words to bloom on  morning.

A camera would watch shadows
As our shadow stretched for ever.

We are thinking this and all this.
This saxophone is just Kenny’s G.

Saxophone was thinking all over.
Let a music go on for ever by sea.

Sea’s music would go on for ever
But life would not go on for ever.

We are thinking ,this and all this.
A thinking will stop some where.

A song will have to stop for next.
A stopping would go on for ever

When next would go on for ever.
A sea’s waves would roll for ever.

We are thinking this and all this,
Till  stopping will go on for ever.

A dark tunnel

Hope you enter dark MRI tunnel
Not  to come out as if sun has set
And you will wake up, randomly,
And the same sun rises upon sea
As if the interstice never existed.

And MRI machine is continuum,
As tunnel in a world’s backyard
And death comes out of a tunnel
As if an interstice never existed
In all your page’s disappearance

Poem is random act of kindness.
And  sun disappears like a page.
Soon there will be another page
Opening as suddenly on the sea
As if there is  method in all this.