autumn, Love, Nature, poetry

Lullaby of Bagpipers

On Celtic notes of bagpipers

on the vast green highlands

behind those infinite pastures,

swaying pristine cherry-blooms leaves

with the melodies of autumn 

winds, sits a mother nightingale

delicately twining, weaving ashen 

wigs to build a nest for land’s

cold harsh winters for her 

five little fragile babies  

on Celtic lullaby of



On this brave land of martyrs 

dwells aching women

longing for their

wounded men

to come




One thousand and one deaths
autumn, Nature, poetry

One Thousand & One Deaths

am ready for the one thousand and one death,

unhurried torturous and slow painful even to grotesque

death, which I’ve embraced multiple times without

any peevish complaints of my fate, trampled and

trodden in the jarring folds of hefty Earth.

Since my conception in the unfathomable wombs

of rusty mud I carried within my exposed heart

an aching fright of the howls of shrieking winds.

Today  I lie decomposed a bleached carcass, a

bulbous mass of my former-self, insipid and pale.

The spectators can witness the mutilations of thousand

deaths incised on my bare veins as the raucous Earth

continues to compress me in her piercing buckles

grinding meat-loaf in an absurd Sisyphean procession

a futile, all a vain exercise, as I will rise again from

my frugal ashes, oozing out my aimless head born

from the vaginal tubes of the ashy soil, with a numbing

terror of the waling winds of sweeping autumn. Born

once again to die another one thousand and one deaths

just enough to cover a full circle.



Migratory birds
Love, Nature, poetry

Migratory Birds

In the flat plateaus across the tall mountains,

a mythical land with blistering fountains

adorns like a jewel known as Valley of Hope

A fabled basin where the birds of north elopes

The gentle wizard of autumn transforms colors

of the leaves into hues of pinks, and yellows

Knowing well that the change is the divine law,

and the autumn’s magic spell is without a flaw.

On the pilgrimage heavenly birds who falls

like Icarus, rests in golden shrines and calls

the withered leaves and petals to surrender

on the little graves on the way to holy voyage.

A land abundant with imperial orchids so royal

brimming with lovely Magnolias and flamboyant

Bougainvillea’s, here migratory birds make homes

away from winter’s wrath in cozy Mangrove wombs.