Saturday, June 18, 2011

You can not withdraw

within a hope
in the black-pitch morning road
red ball on the sky
no possibility it will drop
wake up! Thou
dream are dying
between a labor train
faces going to survive
look
infection around
medical-kit
and
demolish pan
front of the breakfast
there a hope with a
tea seller
nuclear to blast
you can be trust
only the pin-drop silence
here dreams are
in the coffin box
running
as miles and miles
look around a touch machine
make you to do
as you never
in the sky
really you are not a bird
so hold the running steps
it will take you up
there have no love.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Signature

A night
In a dark
Over
Thousand of distance
A round buddy
Had officially
Paper
There
A green small tree
Shattered
No
Not at all
In looking glass
There you hurry to
Catch
A virgin dream
Had unknown
Please flee
Listen
A voice still waiting_____
Register book closed
After the year
Missing a signature
Round to oval
Vanished
In morning________
Guess
There may
your “Girl Friend”
If not
Then
Your “Boy Friend”
Go ahead
You will get them
On the library rack
Mixed with dust
Maintaining
The
Noise without
Sound.

Pink two

They want to sleep
As the green
Over a night
There I am hearing
A morning running out
Chipping with some birds
And slowly
Calling stop
It is a BPO
Next shift have after some time
We know the people are________
Here
A news paper train
Ready to run
Running night bugs rain
It may last few days
A pink
Just arrived
In my city road
Deep in a tram line
silent
Heart
Looking the noise
Had in evening
On the glass door
Now
In witty
Sleep
Please don’t make a sound.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Pink

Hidden
Metropolitan gulf
Hey you
Hey thee
Where your
Cloudy cloth
Sky and blue
Yellow and yellow
Green and green
I am all
I am every in a pink light
Excuse that
I am the love
In a back street
Lane
Over a night
Entire a pray
Now a metaphor melody
Cunning after
The “waist myself”
The album
Blowing you to all
“Senseless”
One to three plus one
It had December
Not died
Still alive
Some corner of heart
Look again I am the love.

Morning Station

Few hoboes
In clumsy voice
Honestly
messy
it somehow a gossiping
today rainbow I did not saw
next to the sky
Ass-black up side
Down
Pickle without taste
No way
Few single boy
Playing the round game
They know the “LOPAZE”
In a frame
Conversation had half type
There had no pink
Just patchy sound
Way out
Along with light
Under a station
Shade.

Follow the game

Miles
And you
Wrinkle your body
Hovered lane
Light arrived
In a proxy game
Do not
Know
Or a scrap bubbling
On eyes
Walking
With the two limbs
Medical science called
It is legs
Thus you proved
In a paper log
Little there signature
For a proof of you
And your
Liberal head
Not so own
Only a second
Run oh you run
Expect there a deadly
Beauty
Alive a reason to
Charming you
Hence
You and your
All should be an end
Next
Follow the game.

A Troop

Here me
My ass
Red boy exactly right angle
Pre-mature
Fun to amuse
Inside clumsy mail train
Mumbai pant
Strip T-shirt
Simply no one with cap
Only he
Legs flock bamboo
Have no violence
Drunker buddy crossing
The miles
Hand black coal
Blackish his body
Left door blocked
Among baggage and trunk
Down town passed
Bored a group of soldier
Just waterless
Fish
Came to protect us
One of one down
in train
Midnight standing
Shaking as milk
After eyes
A pregnant sleeping
Sits are fall into bed
Baggage as chair
Morning
So far
Dreams are
Too
It had a
Journey.