A letter for you

I would like to say I miss you…
Maybe, even that I love you…
But, the dawn is foggy and you are far away…
And, it’s not the time yet

I wish to say you swept me off my feet
One thin little wild gypsy beat…
Tell you, that I drowned in your eyes…
Yet, I know I would only scare you away

What if, we had met before…
Perhaps shared a coffee or a few words…
What if I could have said this with my eyes deep in yours…
What if…

Time changes everything and covers old wounds…
Till we forget it's still raw inside
Now, it’s blown wide open…
And, all I have is a letter for you

I wish I knew what to say…Wish you felt differently…
Wish I was not so afraid of losing you…
Wish you knew how I feel…
But, here I am guitar…letter…me

Her Song

She sang to me…
From the corners of the night
Slow…Deep…Scared…
She called out to me

There was pain that forged her…
Music that cradled her
And, a veil
A long black veil…

She sang to me…
From the depths of my soul
Like the lover, professing his love…
Tentative…Frightened…Brave…

A life that was…
For, a rose that trembled
Rain that embraced her
And…a love…

She sang to me…
From beyond the shadows
Freeing me yet binding me in chains…
And, she sang…about the long black veil

Hunger

The night calls out to me
From the voids of the great unknown
Slow…seductive…silent
I walk…I keep walking

Hunger burns with renewed fervor
Burying all else beyond comprehension
I look around hoping to see light…
I see the night…I look for food

I refuse to return to reality
I walk in a haze…somnambulating while awake
I look to buy a smile on my mother’s lips
I wonder what to trade for the right to survive…

The mind wanders…
Like the restless wind lost in the concrete jungle…
I see neon, music and a drunk world heady with success
While I look for life in the leftovers

I sit for a while in the pavement…
The parched lips finally wet with my own blood
Slowly the night takes me in its arms…
Sleep…Silence…Peace…

Early Morning Flight

The bejeweled night silently sighs…
Tired of being a silent spectator
Of glorious uncertainties…
And a maze called life

The sun slowly rises…
Over the foggy, winter morning airport
Promising to be bright to light my way…
As, I prepare to plunge into the unknown

There is precious little I leave behind
There is not much I look forward to…
Yet, I am afraid to lose this pittance…
Impatient, Restless…looking for answers to unasked questions

As, the clouds kiss the wing tips
I remember the warmth of my princess’ lips
I wish I had held her longer…
I wish she had not let me go…

I am scared we will run out of things to say…
Afraid that you will need me no more…
For I know not why I can’t resist you…
Unsure why you chose to find me

The seven horses of dawn pull away…
As, morning takes its place
And, I bid you adieu, mi reina
In a hope you will understand my love someday…

The Stranger

The last dregs of coffee...
Drained from the lonely cup…
And, as I get up to lose myself in the world, again
I stumble on the threshold of her eyes…

An eternity passes between us,
While the world measures seconds…
I hang on to every inconsequential syllable…
Hoping to hear some more

Walking away is hard yet necessary…
As, I bury hope, trying to forget the stranger…
But, she finds me
In the mess of an electronic mesh

The unsure, tentative steps…
Lead to long late night chats…
As, we talk of life and chrysanthemums...
While, welcoming the birds home

The future’s uncertain…
The afterglow of the setting sun…
Burns like fire..
While I wonder, does it mean anything?

Turning 22

The sun signs off for the day
Benign and magnificent in its parting glory…
And, we let it go…for they say…
If you love them, set them free…

The wind comes out of nowhere
Threatening to blow all away…
As, rain rips apart the evening sky
I take a walk…

As, the rain encompasses me
Things become hazy and hard to see…
Yet, things have rarely been clearer…
I have seldom been so free

All is still…as the world seems to reflect…
Life and crossroads…death and wisdom…
All is quiet…as the world seems to listen…
Fury and peace…rhythm and rain…

The walk continues…as does age…
Another year of decay and growth…
As, I walk towards maturity and death…
Life…a tension of opposites…continues…

Buried

I seek not to redress or purge
I seek not revenge or retribution
In these lonely sojourns…
In my yearly visits back to life

The age-old rituals and sound of dhaks
The smells, sights and sounds…
The familiar warmth
And, the feeling of being home again

Time and time again…
Tilottoma in your arms…
In crescent moons and fleur de lis
I sleep…I cry…I remember…

The dark room and old roads
And, trying to explain where I stand…
Tearing apart those who try to reach out
Pushing them, hurting them…till it hurts no more

I know not why I write…
As, I see the sun rise from the early morning flight
And, I return to the world burying you deep inside…
But, as much as I try Tilottoma, you are buried but never forgotten.