When the planet walks (view from the biased eyes)

When I walk and here is what I don’t see that I am not just merely seeing my walk
The trees pace up with my pace. When I am tired they shrug with a sensuous posture. I close my eyes a little and I walk, attempting to look in Eastman color with the sound of old LPs playing Cohen.

The planet dances and when I walk it walks.It doesn’t stop when I do and here comes the dichotomy. The sounds of treachery come back to me when I loose my self control.

I sniff a stale strand in the morning breeze. The skewed Sun shelters the collective plain.

What if


What if the religion was
tumultuous expression of
satiating joys and an earthy
feel of a caress
of a stale balmy monsoon breeze
what if the rituals were
overly indulgent and free
from the thoughts of a conditioned mind?
what if the dance of rejoice
was a simple prayer
transcending into a trance
while sipping the eyes of the beloved
on the cusp of a river
and the sunset
what if the endless repertoire of this planet
all across the seasons without reasons
was an act of conscious nirvana
the magnificence of this rocking space
is so awe striking
i say a prayer of acceptance
i say a prayer of gratitude
the world is a roller coaster
while i am trying my tryst with
what if
everything lay still
in this eternal dance?


FotoSketcher - maxresdefault.jp

Heavens, the superlative construct of hallucinations, of arousal, decadent minds, immaculate souls,

Imagine the souls without bodies making love on the cloud nine, trembling with the transcending clouds in the innuendos of emotionless orgasms

over the rain without the downpour

the omnipresent and under-clad deities, rejoice with serendipity

of things which are unseen

and not even felt

causal, intimate, trespassing all

you can choose one or many

after dousing the love nector down your

formless form

and tantalizing with movements

of spiritual lust

a journey which never ends

and never begins

the lost souls are never found

and the ones that are found

never lost

the orgy is momentous, continuous,

indefinable and not finite

one has to die just once

after a plethora of good deeds

have you tried a dip in the Holy river?

the limitless concupiscence awaits you

in the fortitude of unlimited bandwidth

of unadulterated pure infusion

served in the jars of holy mugs, which you cannot touch

of uninhibited souls who are not masquerading

but deeply energizing

to be back again

in the goodness of the badness

in the fortress of greed

in the magical realm of gratifying lifestyles

till they meet again

in the lustful embrace

of the selfless souls

Your Thoughts


Your thoughts

medley of peace

and pieces of piercing eyes

moving like waves

rotating by all degrees

enveloping and escaping

with the stillness of the touch

occidental, when I thought

that the sail of no-mind was east

no-mind of a drooling heart

the hazy green colored sea

couldn’t transfix my escape

from you

transcendental you

incorrigible it may seem

your thoughts are seldom wise

the wild arousal of the senses

pervade my realism

your thoughts

deprecate illusions

secretively take me to the very beginning

the splash of the stars

the redness of the creation

the earth on a clean slate

and I watch it bend as if an airplane turning

the green vast lands running

and the excited birds

your thoughts

delusionary concupiscence

the forever smitten meditative mind


in the dawn of the freshly arrived

caressing wind

and it opens my eyes

and I am just finding you

in the fickle of seconds

tilting your head

and measuring my

disguised nonchalance


Sandeep Kulshrestha, 2015


Am I the news board?


A despairingly casual question,

“What’s latest?”

transgresses the numb dirt

the nemesis of emotions

outcast potboiler

listing all the shadows of the past

on my elbow

shuddering and breaking

like the midday clausal news

the sponsorship vulgarity

the algorithm of taut dresses

all displayed

on the dark delphi

of dolorous twilight

deliciously haggard

so much of it

stoked down my throat

displayed cancerously

a tactical hit

so much of it

am I the news board?

In the arms of the Sun (translation of Javed Akhtar’s song – very simple poem)

This life is now

in the arms of the Sun

with rays of light

engrossing the breath

and illumination

enlightening the confabulations


whatever the changes

in the rhythm of the heart,

it is just a profundity of a thought

that we get this life just once

hence we have to love it steadfastly

why do we have to wait for someone

when life is here, and now?

whatever we aspired for in the past,

Is here, for a fine exploration

for you and for me


holding each other’s hand

we will trespass this city

the entire day and whole of the night

is sparkling with a bit of gaiety


you should infer something as life

when you can weave new dreams

and when you can discover

new routes, new ways

something which is always playful

and which yearns

to be in a trance like state,

that’s life


This life is now

in the arms of the Sun

With rays of light

engrossing the breath

and illumination

enlightening the confabulations


primal, decadent, lustful

when it titillates and converges two beings

into the mortals engulfed in their own fury,

a valediction of the flesh,

a celebration of the evanescence,

the concupiscence of the mind

maleficent when the pain sifts

between the tattered clothes, slaughtered souls and

the contused thighs

the contradicting pain and pleasure

the dividing line

the travesty of desire

the filth of it all

and the obliteration of

a natural sensuality

the animated moans on one end

and the hapless screams of tormented pains

on the other

as if they echo

contrasting sounds

contrasting effects

and a drooping silence

one of ecstasy, one of dreadfulness

and then it is all over

when the heart melts

and laments the ones you never heard of

few such moments bring solace

when you settle

for an ordinary conversation

with solitary mind

without the physical touch

with a gentle feel

of a wish within