Love, Nature, poetry


Blunt  swords of

red-eyed karma 

spare no one,

A beginning

has an end 


Fate a meandering 

serpent cunningly

arrives hissing

licking with its

parched tongue

venoms of misdeeds

long done and 

forgotten ! 


By the way

What is in life to

lament about?  

A Sysiphian myth 

a vision carrying 

heavy rock up

a tall slope to 

see it rolling 

down  only to

be lifted again 

and again. 


I a speck of

gluttonous dust 

gloating in the 

mighty cosmos 

marring my time

by waiting for

a Godot.


A Godot who 

arrived and left 

like a first kiss,

first spring of

transient youth,

 it went a breeze

without any

adieu …


I gleaned  

a clownish smile

a house  jester

only to seal

septic pains

from oozing

out ofthe




Sipping blurred 

coffish concoction

to measure

countless hours

of our life 

through vicious 

circles of waits

and more



Holy chants offer 

no redemption 

to my corrupted


 just shrill 

sounds infused 

with ugly hownks  

of motors, mere