the greys


the soulless have no need of melancholia” ~ #V.F. Odoevsky

gloomy undertones- these
immensely cloned


of your choking nothingness, your
wordless darkness
of your forever burning love
weighing down my dawns
the silent continuum
of an inexplicable nothingness

such chaos

churns in and out- a gushing in avalanche
of what? in painstaking vacuuming out
yet in such infinite filling fluttering
climaxing flights

breathes in
endless melonchoy

such love

p.s: pic courtesy: “Looking Back” by #LesleyOldaker




the thematical don’ts unabashedly coming to the theatrically focussed fore in sabotaging satirical veils of literally a killer inspiration, , and then there it is finally- the suffixing rights to it as if hung deliberate inspite of its repellance to nowhere like its a namesake addition . all these and more, showing now, in these bodily bundles of lies. of laws.

Pic courtesy & info link:

#VaskoVassilev Art # TheGate”Kali Yuga”

no .end


closed chapters. [their once pages in a rush of jostled clattering noise heard nowhere…they vanish into an oblivious sterility. of no imaginations. of no braved breaths. of lazed logjams in an adamant stagnation. of no creative motilities in a propelling lightness. of merely no art…]

as you say, if not feel its core quintessence at the least in its slightest depths that which still daringly bleeds thick and nude in staring daylights yet smitten wet and deeply brown in earthen petrichor-laden crusted airs of mother tongue’s fluently ancient nativity, so much wrigglingly alive of its umbilical breaths..that you say, been choked off as mangled to interspersed bits, so long ago as long ago to not to remember even

now, wake in silence. to the eternity within

Pic courtesy & info at link:

#DOCart #DannyO’Connor, “Half Portrait”

death is a myth when our search is forever, my beautiful soul traveler..


that a calm moment
frozen to
the so-climactic lap
of dying & death

death is a myth my soft bird, my young one

eyes in tears and bled furthermore
shall hold the truth of eternal soul

your soul travels
around amidst amongst mine

defied. undefined . the search

rest in peace in the present space, this violent stage

for our cosmic chaos in motion
thrives unbound, forever in deep tranquility

P.s: picture courtesy:

1) Joseph Mallord William TurnerDeath on a Pale Horse’ (?) c.1825–30

2)Pic by self: Lily, my sweet small kitten, the lil one facing, whose beautiful soul left its bodily space today..RIP dear one…

Hope. from the wetting imprints of deeply digging monsoonal twilights towards a syncing cosmic eternity..


hope. a fading 4ish sun’s lantern rays
of a densely dying day- whoseth

delicately fractioned and fluidly

fimbriating nightish fibres

impossibly delivers

a mammothly birthed helianthus sun-

yet again. in an

endlessly countless

mystical continuum


this miniscule stardust sparklet

floats amidst death and darkness

a soul sprinkled n embedded

in your hope. of love..


Pic courtesy: self- a twilightic monsoonal- gripped mumbai

brightened nightlight’s faded moth scales heightened eyeful eternity


speeds lightning a jettrail of life
as if to instantly weave a magic

these scopeless stilleyes
break out in babyblinks

vividly reminisce

some fairytale page

in an often acutely constricting
tubular rimmed dotting spirals
that dims to a drained nowhere

– a portal’s ascendance

a humbly palish yellow
tiny moth -of a destined
intersecting times

just a moment it thrills
by its avatar presence
in oaring flutterbys

-kisses its mirrorself

and the next

its gone

still stamps allover
its image. it’s eternity

fiery lit burning eyes
despite blank screens

defies vehemently
the patterning existential
ephemeral shadows

formlessly shaping truths

in infinite dream imprints

Pic credit: Daniel Merriam/ “Eye of tye Storm” Giclee on Canvas

th(i/u)s [densifying] nothingness


that which was thinly expected

vanished in dashing off tracks

and that which was held desperate

was taken off in lightning brusqueness

those unsaid words from your

still (why so?) steadied eyes…spewed

silenced outbursts of coldening heaviness

unto this yearning soul black hole, streaming

inner with infinite molten suns…such

obligated rigidities

of a compacting vacuum, this

cosmically amoebic destiny

in a chaotic gravitating enigma-this

as if a fatally magnetic

pain-precipitated perpetuality

pic credit courtesy: Kimberly M. Becoat, Absence of Subjection, 2013. Rice paper, stones, mesh, acrylic and twine on paper.

the pic link from an interesting article here at