Pile On

One brick over the next
One brick over halves of two
One brick at nighty to two
One brick over the next.
The strong base
A brick added on top of it
One brick over the next.
One brick over quarters of two
Two bricks at nighty to one
One brick overt the next.
The wall now high enough
One last brick over the last
Wait, one more brick over it.

Love is Blue

When blue is not blue anymore
When blue does not know itself
When blue dissipates into red.
When red wears the mask of blue.
When blue seems to stab
Blue knows those spots
Does the mask of blue,
keep the knowledge intact?
Does blue last?
Does red live on?
Will each survive in unison?
Will violet be my song?
Or will I be abandoned in blue?

The language of art uses blue in many forms.
When blue is a Cobalt.
Or when blue is Prussian.
Or when blue is Cerulean.
Maybe the first is easier to get into and more difficult to get out of.
If you were a Cobalt, you could still be a Prussian or a Cerulean.
But what do you do with either of those blues then?
When you are only a Cobalt
Are you 'only' a Cobalt?
When it starts raining and blue is lost.
Hiding under the bed, scared of lightning.
Will blue ever be found?
Can it be found?
Is it alive in the greys and the browns and the yellows?
Does it have to be found?

The boat wabbled on

The boat wabbled on
The oar double drawn.
The boat wabbled on.

The water just at the brim
Full of men and women.
The boat wabbled on.

He sneezed, she budged
There was a mighty rock.
The boat wabbled on.

The boatman looked ahead
Paying passengers no stead.
The boat wabbled on.

She threw out a hand
Dipped feet in water sand.
The boat wabbled on.

The shore was near
We saw the crowd in fear.
The boat wabbled on.

The was no more room
For even the lady's broom.
The boat wabbled on.

Anxious to get home
You tried to board, but
the boat wabbled on.

In a fit of rage
You hurled a twig, but
the boat wabbled on.

This time around
You aimed a stone.
The boat hesitated
and it slowly drowned.

You walked away
brimming in misery, hoping
the boat had wabbled on.

The bubble walked into a cage,
the corner opened its jaw in rage.
Leaning into the crevice,
the lining felt safe.
Curled up into a ball,
shielded from the fall,
the bubble lives through.
No spike
No nail
No tooth
It floated around.
And then there was a sound!
The door clanked open,
freedom handed as a token.
Others soon congratulate,
the bubble couldn't relate.

the blue of the sky
to the rusty spike.
the red of the blossom
to the thick hard bottom.

from sorted to mangled,
from floating to entangled.

As many slowly rose,
this bubble finally chose.
It slowly moves to the ground,
did you even hear the sound?
The green of the grass,
was now a blade in glass.

Finally in peace let it settle -
The bubble is truly on it's mettle.

From and about a lifetime ago..

Nana- Nani ka ye pyaar,
Baba- Dadi ka yoon dulaar.
Ungli pakad kar chalna sikhana,
Hum jaisa ban, khelna- khilana.
Bahon mein bhar, lori sunana,
Ma date to, humko bachana.
Pyaar se yoon avaaz lagakar,
Gullak ko chupke se bharwana.

Nanima ki godi mein,
yoon sar rakh so jaana.
Baba ka haath-pakad,
subah ser par jaana.
Dadi se natkhat kanha
ki kahaniya sunna.
Nanaji se yoon
dher sari baate karna.
Baba ko bas ched,
dheere se muskana.
Nanima ke haath se
khana khana.
Dadi se roz
"jai shri ram" karna.
Nanaji ka pyar se
vo dankani bulana.

Chutpan se ab ka safar
saugaat hai jeevan hamara.
Jag darshan dene vale hi
hein sachcha jag hamara.

When at home...

Fear

Fear Jumped off the cliff
It landed in the river
Covered in all the mist
Fear tried to drown
Muscles started work
They took fear forward
Helped by all the force
The current moved onward.

Fear tried to hold a rock
The current made it go
Fear tried to swim away
Yet it went with the flow.

Fear was moving on
of being fear itself
Fear was writing songs
about all that unsaid.

Fear was popping out
of its little closet
Fear was bred at home
as away it was lead.

Fear was smothered
by the blue corset
Fear was writing home
with news of no bread.

Fear was a waking dream
or a sleep nightmare
Fear was unwritten words
and those things unsaid.

Fear was moving in
as out it slowly swept
Fear was clutching on
at the loss of its grip.

Memory faded
as life caught on.
Fear was invaded
as it finished the song.