The King of Spring you do not know

Even if the cones are not born green

Don't their hollow browns reflect the Dusk's moonbeam?

No matter the berries lost their Velvet

They wrap in December, the Sultry Soil in Blue Quilt

Remember?? You threw like a whore the dry orange rose

Look above, Its tiny  stem is knitted on the nest of Black Crows 

And then you churned the yellow treeless bunch of Leaves

The same bunch canopies a versatile creed of dormant seeds

You set your boat ashore when flakes turn to lake

This Purple Que Parasols the fish from snowy Pellets and hail

And your Chariot staggers to go near the gothic smoky Grove

But you Cant see, A rainbow wreath of peacock elves shield the roof   

But You do not Know...

But You do not Know...

Even In Autumn the Crippled and Murky shadows

Taller and Taller Grow

For in Autumn's World

The most Adverse is the most Prosperous...

(Copy rights reserved to Paras Ali)

My Heart has gone astray , it is no more on my roads

As we went hand in hand

Teeming with twinkles on the Desert's sand Tranquilly Oblivious; Felicity On thine lips used to burst Together We had breath In million layered oranges and reds Our two Knuckles in one Had many times ruled my deshaped Sun Heart! come back to thither soon My clock has circumbulating Moon Oh the Stormy Wind! be little gentle and Slow My Heart has gone Astray it is no more on my roads
Before i could encounter the autumn in sheep's wool Hissed, murmured and rustled Your waggish Witty Push How Affable you were my softest chamber... You left and then i learnt World has lasting Winter Here i stand in multitudes; Captored and Plundered With metallic snow my woods of blood are worst to rust My brain has lost its beeps I think no more divine Talk to me Heart! My nerves succumb Sing me Tender Lullaby's Rhyme Oh Stormy Wind be gentle and Slow My heart has gone astray it is no more on my roads

"Eclipsed Identity"

I went long on foreign miles

Crawled,

Jumped

Struggled with every Limb,

Tailored my skin,

Truncated my fins,

Waved off the wintery wings

I shape shifted....

Was i a flagrant liquid?

Was i a lucid Fluid?

Or a Molten Solid?

I knew not....

All of my Trails my polished paint escaped

My toil earned the roads

Which are only my mask's abode

Clueless and sun less i lie bare

Unrecognisable

 In my own battle

My mask stands the hero

and I.....

The chained Slave

'Not a saint, but a Half Human'

Capitalist's affluents dwarfed his hillocks of degrees
Seculars opened his veins to set him free
He bled, he oozed, his inch of skin paid the price
His neurons dribbled dreary dews , was he bruised? 
No , not yet he moved ahead
His pale termite infected bones and voiceless vocal chords
A million artists they called, like bees plunder the sweet
The more dark archs legnthened his noontide
More the Artist's serpent-tooth smile burnished wide
He preserved the niggardly genius in mediocrity 
And coppered coins on his breath to show sheer sincerity
Abondened from the Earth, a priest found his relics
Declared a saint, the script holder processed all his empty bricks
Today, i his daughter out of hunger, out of acute thirst
Is forced to lick from her own Father's blood, the holy grail

Life's Last Endeavor

Scrapes, scratches 

Wounds, bruises,
Clamps, Crutches,
Pricking Pangs
Punctured Cramps
Laying low
The Bronzite Man,
Mowing Down,
His Life's Hour-Glass.

Churning and Chopping,
Drop by Drop
His Blood ,
Membranes
Neurons,
Vessels and 
Clots.

Knocking down,
His waggish Ken.
Cloth less stands,
Now his entrails.
The Bones the flesh
Are territory less.
His Sun Tumbling
and Struggling,
To fight
Purple, Blue ,black
and their Kins.

But today
There are no earls
There rules no king
Death has its Dynasty
it will smite
It will strike
To keep Him Slow
Numb
Frozen
Tranquil and
lowly-browed

Ventilators,
Oxygen Masks,
Drips, Injectibles,
Sedative Pills,
To fill and lift,
Paucity of Pink.
The Electric Shocks
Clip-clopping
Kicking Up
The old man's heels

The Dying Man
Pushed, Pulled ,Jerked 
The blue lips,
And
Bee-infected-wounds.
He died not in Silence
But in noisy Struggle
As Life's Last Farewell
Asks for Absolute Endeavor

A Queen in His Dynasty

The truth was I always wanted to be a virgin in his dreams--an undiscovered treasure. I wished to be layered in such diffidence and urbanity that even no words could smell of my fragrance. I longed each day we exchanged glances , the time takes pace and beats its drums so hard, that no salutations between me and him take place.
How many times i saw him lowering his gaze finding my demeanour from the corner of his eyes? Ask me not.If i dared narrate the day will fade. It was not disgust, nor my boastful feminine pride which hulked around his shadow rather i wanted this love to be pure in the realms of cherubic earth. i left him no chance to scribble a word on his lips. Each time he mustered up courage , i shattered all his plans, his passions for me whenever rose, i closed all my heart's doors. I can swear on heaven i was his fantasy queen. In his thousand hours of solitude for a million times he used to write and erase only my name on his cell phone.

Soldier by profession , he was fighting two wars, one with the warlords and the second with his impatient heart.

I could picture how his lashes had battered full of tremor , his hair clenched by fists and his tongue must had savoured the salt of his own blood dropping from his lips after being bitten by his own teeth. He was on the maze whose roads were turned more angular and twisted by me. I was rejoiced to reign his brain while he was frustrated to turn into a moth as he had seen several times the burnt ashes of moth forming geometrical patterns on the rug woven with saffron threads, in the lantern lighted dull room.

The years passed by and my ignorance underrated his emotions. The time indeed waits for none, his clock turned still. A bullet pierced through his chest and the soldier met the cradle earth locking me in his heart.

. Both of us won, He wanted to be my favourite memory and i always whimed to be an alone queen in his dynasty.

You Could not Recognize me

A feather was there to tickle your intellect Somebody has watered your frosty flower errect Your starless nights were lit with lemon lamps To get you braced from blues of bogs and greens of swamps But you could not recognize me...

Around assembled dignitaries of peer-blossoms and daisies I petalled your thorns with straws of orange roses Once your streets were arid and spurned How many times for your lonesome nights , glow-worm i turned? But you could not recognize me...

I promulgate your song on breeze of spring Whenever your southern sky in scarlet sea sinks To keep your name alive on sandy sea shore, All my life i accepted to be minion to wave's white foams But you could not recognize me...

Sun's first ray has etched your profile Your alleys and shady avenues are perfectly Bright All is complete, your exuding pride, your imperial fame Not even foot note in your book has my name But you could not recognize me...

My Road's Crippled Landscape

Snow flakes in slew are on morning strolls

The thickets smell of fledging owls

And Howls play harp on the gust of wind

A mighty roar of silence jingle and sing

Upon the roads i travelled the most

The pitter pattering clouds

Raise no rain but hammering hails.

My aisles of pain have steeled the scarlet sun

The spring around my night's globe has went passed

The lakes are dried, their curtains are burnt

As the crippled landscape of my roads

Promised me to paint the story of my soul

My merciless wounds infected it and poisoned it

Now a mirror i am turned,

Its more like me i can sense;

Nor it can die

Neither it can survive

An Eleventh Birthday Cake

The last candle snuffed out and the heightened heap of smoke blurred her eyes. The smoke was not a residue that burnt her past ten years rather it was a veil bowling her current tottered existence and screening her eclipsed future.
The smoke has kissed goodbye, but do the bygone things and people have cloistered existence? No, she mumbled with a flabbergasted blink of a profound eye and left the answers in the mid-end as she was in habitual of not setting her pearls ashore.
The eleventh elf held a knife to cut the birthday cake but she was startled. The green, gooey  and glossy cake appeared to her eyes as a haunting circle holding taut rope of her wounded past. The circle reminded her of  a jungle's territory where men instate their carnivorous strolls enslaving women inside deep copper gorges beneath the pewter sky.
She blew the flecks of dust off her shirt and then the sight of  her own muscular round navel gave her the realization that her dirt was  still newfangled and virgin as the vultered eyed beast had thrusted upon her an eternal abashed venom. She wished to chop each muscle of her face that reflected like a resplendent diamond from the beast's eyes.
She jerked, pushed and shivered to have a safe return from the island of nameless faces but life is an eclipsed corridor with all the corners lit by wane moon.
The cake , the smoke and the knife were all glove in hand to mow her down. Panic seized her, shrivelled all her innards. She began to mewl under her breath and felt herself on the cusp of screaming.
The poor creature curled from her finger and thumb number nine and held in her right hand the knife to cut the cake of her eleventh birthday. She stood motionless like a frozen twig which exchanges happy furtive glances with the defoliating autumnal tree.
She rushed to the cake and burried the though of cutting it in seven-inched grave." Boundaries once crossed always carry the traces of your foes no matter then your enemy is spear less, bullet less or armour less, she heaved a sigh and cupped her cake in a stronger cuddle more stronger than the one he gave to her while starting bloody bouts.

'Cloudy Vintage'

My petition was answered, And all prayers were approved. On the Sky, for few Hours was indited my name. Alphabets were ironed heavy To sink white floe, To clandestine gossamery mossy growth.

Frothy grey bubbles of wool Ribboned my name's hillock in blue Black feathers of cotton Enveloped the celestial moon And the novas once bright With cobalt pearls, were girdled tight

Blacks on blacks Saphhires on blues Doubled to twos

Around my name Multitudes of mist cloaked by I saw nothing My own name i could never recognize

While i was drinking hemlock From dark flask of cloud's butter milk My farsightedness dropped Drop by drop The Single hour In endless toil but passed

Thou blessed me Sun Thou blessed me Moon Thou blessed me beams When Thou was offering me recompenses Alas! the ethreal light was asleep on the job

"A Dream Killer"

I have burnt that gleeful threshold From where you first stepped to my bosom's door I have spilled amber, indigo and Violet To the Virgin White page which winter never frosted I have bowed with copper ropes Those Chapters, where your name had abode Through time and time... To Love is a Crime...

With a dagger i have sliced your wreaths, garlands and bracelets Which used to veil my sun-burnt-Blotches With the Snake skin spear all dreams i have beheaded The Erudite tongue, the dauntless lips all i butchered In The isle of Nameless faces Yes i have thrown your smoggy traces Through time and time... To love is a Crime...

I have paid a pittance To buy my lords Contentment... My Dream no more bleed... Nor it breathe... When livings around me are fearful to come near My Dream's ghost wipe with his blood my invisible tears Through time and time.... To Love is a Crime.....

"Web of Wishes"

I wonder
with those
Strain causing
puzzles
and
nonplussed
questions
of
life
Ifs
When
Why
Which,
How
and dateless buts
The sprightly-eyed
and bushy-tailed
Wishes' Buds
grow vigorous
and young......

Oh Dear Heart! let us Depart

A thousand human children are slaughtered each day

To knit their sheepish bones on the royal tiara of pet Vultures Let there be no kid, let the earth die of new pollen's dearth What can the seraphs do if immortal are the demagogues? Oh Dear Heart ! Let us depart

Alligators, Snakes, serpents and sharks Enthroned in crystals, marbled in rosary walls The animal's inherit there exquisite grottos of gold tinted glass But a human breadwinner all his life deserves not a meagre turf of grass The erudite wit bites, i beseech to be ignorant and fettered in dark Oh dear heart! Let us depart

Mud used to squash in and out from my boats Whenever i trod on the cubical soil-laden roads Sea breeze with ease used to tousle my hair Now snow flakes are puffing my breath, unveiling my old flesh bare Honorarium of passed days, the mud, the peppermint wind from this pale bard asks Oh Dear Heart! Let us depart

Copy rights reserved to Paras Ali, 2015

His Single Glimpse Sent me into a Trance

"You are neither mortal nor immortal”, he said in a low voice.  Before I could ask who he was? .A lump in my throat buried almost all the light-headed notes of my voice. I felt myself strongly recoiled in his deportment led by sturdy gravity. His eyes, almond brown, shaded by flickered lashes met mine. The thin man having kempt demeanour smelled of cologne of a farthest fragrant brook of Eden. He pointed his index finger towards the sky and murmured in a deeply cultured voice, “ Your moisturised curvature of skin hides with in a rock-solid steel because life has a purpose.  The clouds bear with care the slithering beads of rain but in seconds they sluice down the cracks of window and immortality the very second kisses them goodbye. When sheets of thunder heads roll in and paint the sky iron gray, in minutes the populace of golden dews is destroyed, still the yellow bands of colour flurry the gashes of thunderstruck sky. This is human dilemma when they are given mortality they crave for flavours of immortality and when immortality is endowed to them they yearn to be a mangled mess of flesh and ragged blood. They toss unceremoniously to the triangles of space but they forget when stars slide out of their track they turn into comets. Whenever blemished shadows lengthen near your noontide planet always remember you can knead stones with resilience; for you have weapon sharp enough. You can shield your uncertainties with the aid of your sleek acumen; for you have weapon sharp enough.” 
 Moments passed and lustrous flashes of orange- tinged light stood between me and him, drawing away his magnetic demeanour from my eyes. I often twirl my wayward existence on my forlorn chamber and in pitch dark hours of silence still his apparition mutters  in my ear “For you have weapon sharp enough"

'I Can no more Pretend"

Hour by hour Bit by bit My youth's compass is near to get still So i have unmasked my hirsute left long ago my abode To travel the old-worn roads. Where daisies and primroses Murmur and hiss.

Before pruce pearls turn to my sky All my bangles i have laid aside Their Orange, red, green, blue ashes Would shower intricate patterns To horizon's lonely patches.

In the Ford land My beloved I Have disarmed all the bells From my hapless ankles. My heart's flute has now muted. Why do i carry my heavy chest? When all my ribs are exhausted I am on my feet jagged and dead

I like not to take my blood prints along I have satiated avaricious demons all my life long Beloved ! Scoffers mock at me They direct their ire towards me Though i have sold for free my all jewels I have lit their every cistern. Yet this game is not won. Beloved! Ward-off fire of living from my face Veil me in a furrow of haze My heart is frozen Lips numb I can no more pretend I am wounded I am hit I am Culprit I am Frail I beg you Beloved I can no more Pretend.

If I Could Love You

Like reds are bowled over by roses,
Like blacks yearn yellow somatic rays,
Like Sea is avid of blues,
Like Lotus is avarcious of rivers of water
I wish this way,
For few seconds
If not days
I could fall in love with you....

I Long to get blind
after seeing thine colours
I wish
I sleep and in my sleep
You dream with in me
During this visit of yours
To my Hollow cave
May All my life i never awake......