AN OUTING TO A VILLAGE

It feels like heaven isn't it.I asked my friend.
From da garbage of concrete to come to a village.
We were on our way along a ground.
As far as the eyes can run,dere is nthng xcpt da ground
the flies,the dew drops,the grass ask our whereabouts.
I feel dey r whispering.
After a lot of dayz it was back to childhood
wid my friend i ran towards the unknown through the ground
we ran,we stopped,we gasped for fresh air.we breathed...
then again ran,ran harder.
it was not any cat n mice run in whc we r often indulged in
it was to feel the divinity,to surrender myslf to da freshness of nature.
suddenly one or two drops...and den rain came pouring in.
life cant b sweeter...we pushed ourself harder..
we got sobbbed..we got drenched
after so many dayz for da 1st time i realised how to love life
exploring da ground was an excuse
may b we were to explore our innerself..
30 years of hardcore reality couldnt do it
but 1 hour of nature's intimacy saw our soul through.
salvation wat else i smiled.
da sky was clearing up wid occassion of flashes.

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You travel - Through unknown stations, passing empty paddy fields. over quiet rivers that rest beneath you. You bring a lot of earth along, And smell of mud, fish scales and trains. You whisper and scream, Put your nails in me, occasionally call it love. Other nights, we make peace. Strangely at dawn, When the Sun rises and you see me sleeping, I hear your whisper, you travel ... ... Deep inside me.

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Wish I could be a cloud one day I will love to be grey if its you To whom, through whom I traverse. Transparency is optimum; For I know you are unattainable like the sand escaping from the fist like the meaning assumed from the gist. look, oh yes, I can rhyme too. If you wish I can artify our world. Inspiration never needs a permit. You had asked, Why do I vomit blood. Interruptions in dreamy un-realism doesn't suit me. I know. So I write. So that I can breathe you in and breathe dreams out. Live long, you had wished. (Wished), did you? honestly? I will let it pass like just another Failed attempt to face reality Finds itself en-route to contamination. Oh! then what is pure? you may ask. Purity is not you, not me, but us. Purity is the way verses traverse. I will vomit to death one day. Do not pray for me. Pray for my poems who are quiet. Let them borrow my breaths. Let the poetry for us live. (And the footnotes conclude:) You - a miser in love Me - a happy lender. SoUmy@

Of Ecstasy...

Beyond the horizon lies the gray that rests between your feet, delicately. Waves ripple and glide past the footsteps, Silently washing off your prints afar, Uncomplaining in tender reverence. You raise your arms as if to embrace the sea. I see twilight, I feel air gently hushing by. The crimson Sun is at its last breath And caresses you with quiet blessings. As your innocence reflects upon the gracing Sun and the soothing sea I stand mute and mesmerized... ... Oblivious of the rest as the triad touches me And I cry, just. SoUmY@ [p.s. -> This post of mine is inspired by the picture atop. I thank Jennifer for letting me share this. And this piece goes to Angel . ]

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