October 22, 2019
Of what use is a glorious October dawn,
if the beautiful colours over the horizon;
do not remind you and make you smile,
of someone’s blushed and fragrant laughter
October 19, 2019
To you my friend, who ever gave a fuck;
to you my friend, who ever cared at all
None of your fucks ever mattered;
none of them were counted at all
October 18, 2019
This October evening…..
this lovely October evening,
with all her whispering shadows
and the red-golden meadows,
is mine
She is mine to behold
and mine to perceive
and mine to mould
And in calling her ‘Mine!’,
there is a strange comfort,
which cannot be sought
in either music or wine
October 18, 2019
The night is silent and Gamayun sits atop a lonely rock, looking down on the city of lights. A gentle breeze is blowing from the North-East, carrying faint shades of some long-lost and ancient fragrance. Then suddenly she senses a presence – there is someone beckoning her attention from the shadows. She raises her hand and commands:
October 18, 2019
I feel as if I am a Sylph, a poetic fantasy
the autumn moon, simple and pure ecstasy
I roam the night air and float
so very near, yet remote
I watch all and feel all;
feelings – either big or small
I watch all and feel all;
but I am not a part of this at all
October 18, 2019
Far away from all this filth and all this stinking mold;
there is a secret and silent garden of unfulfilled dreams
The garden is colorless, neither silver or purple nor gold;
no chirping or singing, just a chaos of cries and screams
October 17, 2019
All the faceless monsters
lurking under your bed;
and grey smoky ghosts,
hiding quietly in the shed
They are still alive
and very much well fed;
their appetites are strong,
smelling your fears and dread
Oh you were so mistaken
and you were so very wrong;
they are still here
and they are still very strong
October 15, 2019
Myth says that once upon a time, even before the birth of time itself, the Cyclopes Polyphemus saw Galatea, the nymph and fell in love with her.
October 13, 2019
The rains are born slow; drop by drop;
the drops transforming into torrents;
the torrents drenching the parched earth
But sometimes the gods are in a good mood;
they wave and the angry clouds burst forth;
the torrents drenching the parched earth
October 6, 2019
No need for metamorphosis and change
when the change won’t change the mind
of all the shooters standing on the range;
people I love, both hateful and the kind
