Wayward Beatnik

Grey sullen
face of the sky—
from above there’s
an angry barking of
a dog;
pink sheets are
dashing in and out
as fierce shades of
nature’s lust;
arrows of an
unknown God
are pouring the earth;
the earth is wet
as a sacred whisper,
voices in it are drenched
as poems of metaphysics;
the rain has become soft
now, singing a melodious


Your book is
Being opened—
I am in rapture of
Its sensuous delicacy…
Your text is a garden
Left in the sanctuary
Of poetic prose;
Yield the letters
Of your meaning to me…
Let me write verses on
Them with mystic adoration.


Sun Set
Placed by the
Mad seer’s divination—
The sun shone red,
A mystical ball of fire…
Light started scattering
From a veiled curtain,
Littering imagination
With the aesthetic
Of impressionism –
Light remained gay
In the clouds,
Ripples are scattering
Magic of an uneven stream.
I am trembling with passion—
I watch this dream fade
From its surreal abode
As dark currents
Submerge the oasis.


Rain is invading
My silence as
A torrential fugitive—
My ears are welcomed
With a symphony of
Nature’s music.
A dog is howling,
Terrified by the appearance
Of Macbeth’s witch.
Poems are swimming
Puddles, eclectic with
postmodern signification…
How I love the rain,
A fusion akin to Mozart’s
Symphony –
I am wet and drenched
In its ecstasy
And feeling like the
Poetry of making love.


For Mignonette
Let me embrace you
As the writing
Of poetic music …
Let me cover your lips,
Envelop them
As a painter stroking
His brush—
Let me see you naked
Like beautiful Eve in Eden…
Let my eyes swell into
A beauty of desire …..
Gently seeing the
Way your body curves
And flows like a Mermaid
Of the sea…
Let me caress your bounteous
Breasts and suckle your nipples
As a new born lamb
does on to the udders
of its mother…
Let me kiss your hive
And lick all its honey
As a devoted lover…
Let me mount on you
Like the waves of
the ocean splurge—
Ecstasy is pouring
The soul of love….
Dedicated contented
We lie in happy embrace.

Haiku Cardboard
Placed carelessly they/
Are in a comfort zone and/
Viewing destiny/


Wake me up in love,
You poem of an erotic lullaby;
Let’s make the music of love
Into a symphony of ecstasy.
Sun Set
The sky has veins,
Resting on the
palm of the hand;
Aesthetics is the
Palmistry of poetry;
The sun fades
Like the closing
Of one’s eye….
Night has become
A Delicious Black Forest.


Song for a Lover
Darling, I have grown
Fond of you in adoration;
Gently open your book of
Poems for me….let me read
Its text as a poet fond of delicacy….
My nights are thoughts of you
In the music of love—
Songs that awaken me to
Lyres of passion….
A kiss is like the
Opening of a flower;
An embrace,
The fond striking of a guitar….
Passionately open the folds
Of your meadow to me….
Let me drench you with
The symphony of ecstasy.


Song for a Lover
Darling, I long for you—
Your soul for me is love
Burning in a furnace …..
I think of you often,
Remembering loving words…
As a poet writing poems….
My heart has grown to love
You and presses its keys
Like a Piano in adoration….
You are fruit delicatessen …..
I long to melt in you
And feel your lyrics
In the music of Love…..


Pounding on the roof
Like hand claps,
Like the thundering of hooves…
Rain’s making love
Pouring elixir on the roof…
Missing birds of the sky…
Speak of solitude in nests…
The sky is roaring 25000 Watts ….
Undressed pink clothes are bathing….
A muse, drenched is wagging its tail….
Rain trickles from the gargoyle like a
Gushing water fall….
The blossomed flowers of the
gardens are wet with nectar…
Rain teases the mind in
Invocation of playful metaphors….


The clouds become
Elastic grey horses—
Now it’s a savage drum
Bellowing angrily.
Cupid wearing pink clothes
Streaked across the sky.
It poured in musical rhythms,
Lightly at first
Like a ballerina standing on toes,
And then plunging heavily
As a belly dancer on a wriggling spree….
Thoughts sank into a poem,
And art a beautiful sight
For the eyes.


Sky is a scattered
garden of flowers;
ripples of clouds
are nestled and searching
the sacred chambers of
a lover’s secret;
in the sky I see a
lover’s nest—
a pink cloudy grove
inviting intimacy to
ecstasy in its surreal abode;
a purple melody chimes
sweetly as a swaying wind chime;
the sun has let its hair loose
and sinking like a beatnik
into oblivion.

Feathered undertaker—
Speculating dark shares
Of the mystic underworld…..
Reveal to me,
The sacred whispers of the Devil.
There you are now,
Feathered and devilish
Gleeful with a deathly omen.
You float now,
Gentle with the rhythm
Of cosmic breeze…..
Grant me wishes
That I make secret
As a vow!



Woke up early morn—
Night’s football glances
Ethereally for players
To appear.
The moon gazes at me
As a pregnant womb.
My thoughts borrow the dark
Yet envelop the milk of roundness.
Day’s rays are rising
And your apparition is vanishing.



Colored scattered robes,
Spreading euphoria of a
Stormy sea….
The rhythm of many haloes
Cascading as mystic waterfalls….
Pink gazelles frolic like a ballet,
A concert of many symphonies….
I am a stranger in the evening,
But appreciate its veins that
Proliferate into pulchritude
Of a sign that’s tranquil and meditative
Like a voyage on a peaceful ocean.
You have put me into a dreamy habitat
Where I long to be with her and soak
The evening into joy of a lover’s gift.



The sky
Is scattered—
A bed of colors;
Hazy abstracts
Settle down as music
On an eager canvas;
My thoughts are with you
Of how we could embrace
In this dusky euphoria.

The Sea
I long to be in it
And feel it
As a metaphoric
A child building
Sandcastles reminds me
Of a forgotten childhood
I love the waves as they
Sound and pound
In the music of streams
Of consciousness….
The sea’s calling out to me
The echo of a bird’s wing,
Yes I am going to the sea now.



The sky robed
In dusky hues—
red and pink,
Setting a tone of
A defiant metaphor
Sun is painting its
Last strokes
And vanishing
As a vagabond painter.



A voyage in it/
As a metaphoric poem/
I have reached bliss/



Red ink—
Splashed the sky;
A crowd of metaphors
Are bleeding;
The sun is
Donating blood
After the fill
The sun is fading.



Haiku Flowers
You have knit the ground/
With an embroidery that leaves/
The viewer speechless/


Haiku Umbrella
Picasso resurrected/
Leaving an umbrella as an/
Art to blind the sun/



Ezra Pound hurled
The red ball—
There it stayed in
The early copulating morn,
Scattering erotic shadows,
Tempting the poet to
Pen a poetic lyric.


Haiku Coffin
Sculpture is waiting/
For a lamentation; who/
Will occupy to sleep/



Dusk wove to a
Shimmering red wing;
Apocalyptic visions
Are a rejoicing poetic music….
The Illuminati is coloring
The sun into a red ball of light….
My dreams are straying far
Like the floating of a lonely raven …..
I dream of women, their poetic orifices….
My mind is walking in the floating apparition
Of colors drenched in
The opera of mystic ecstasy.


Hazy scattered, red brush
Strokes are like a tantalizing spread….
The birds float melodiously,
Their wings are tuning hymns….
My thoughts proliferate
Into nature’s abundant art gallery…..
The blossomed garden has lulled
Me to a beatific poem…..
Contentment is poetry ….
The attitude to become an aesthete….



Round illuminated
Spectacle, beaming
passionate; romance
with me; fornicate me
to write an adulterous
Your fleshy ecstasy….
The curvy nude transcendence…..
Your rhythmic silence….
Invokes a musical euphoria….
I gaze at you fondly
As a woman’s open breast…..
Are you a halo discarded
by an apostate seer?
I am puzzled when you
Empty the innocence
Your color…
That drapes the
Chthonic angelic Lucifer…
You flow a spatial lyric….



Haiku Flower
Euphoric as art/
Decorated to be gazed, an/
Ecstatic music/

Haiku for the Muses
Pour, pour creative pen/
Flower a psychedelic meadow of/
Writing that’s an art/


Haiku for Nietzsche
Though art wise and you/
Have rebelled with God, freed the sign/
To ecstasy, rhythm and melodies/


Haiku for Derrida
From you I learnt to/
Write, to signify meanings to new heavens/
With my roots on earth/


Haiku for Roland Barthes
In you I have found the/
Language to be a delicious as/
A fruit in writing/


Haiku for Foucault
In you I have found/
The mask of writing to be tissues/
To be re-written upon/


Haiku for Bakthin
I have embraced your/
Textual contours, yours, to be/
In dialogic writing/



Haiku for Sartre
Beautiful soul you have/
Unraveled the plot of existence/
To live life, an art/


The Spirit of the Dead Watching
Gauguin you have been eclectic,
Panting symbolism, esoteric
Chthonic landscape……
Your colors are haunting and hypnotic…
The nude girl of Tahiti is splayed
With an innocence of being open
To be gazed as an erotic sublime…..
He body is a psychic depth….
A road on which poet can
Travel in writing……
The gaze of the Ghost is
Open to an interpretation….
A desire to mask one’s own
Inner temptation…..
In your art impressionism
Reaches a peak of Himalayan
I meditate on your art
And copy into the gallery
Of my enthusiastic psyche…..



Rodin’s Thinker
You have sculpted
A trope….
A contemplative ecstasy….
A Plato in ecumenical
Catharsis ….
Europe has woken to life….
And has written philosophies…
To unravel the meaning of life…
Why are you stiff in your pose?
There is much left to be
Open to the heart of liberation……
Monet’s Sunrise
Passion sets into
The mind as a
Sublime tranquil…..
Blue reverberating
As the singing of a
Mystic hymn …..
Paint scattered
As the legerdemain
Lies like picturesque ribs….
I am tempted to a love….
A strange passion to be
Submerged into your art…..



Haiku Toothpaste
You have been squeezed empty/
now you are like a coffin/
Left to be buried/



Haiku Grilled Chicken
Delicious as art/
Deco; you will end up soon in/
As tasty flesh in mouths/


Gauguin’s where do we come and where do we go
Impressionistic tapestry –
Setting the mind to gaze
The rites of symbolism…..
Legends of Tahiti
Are gently flowing
On your aesthetic brush strokes….

Colors are brilliant in
Aesthetic softness, toned,
Reverberate the mystery
Of life as actions of a
Pleasant incantation…..
The plucking of the fruit
Is as sensuous of EVE
Eating and transgressing
To a voyage of the forbidden….
When I see you, my senses
Awaken the subconscious
And spring out an isle of a dream….


You feminine oasis…
I dream of submerging
In your luscious habitat….
In your beaches, I want
To spread my mind like a
Wild flower; I want the waves
Of your womb to splash on
Me and serenade a catharsis
You mermaid, I long to
Writes poems of love…..
I want to feel your land
With my heart….
I want hear the mystic calling
Of your tranquil beaches….
I want meditate and feel the
Sweet caresses of the many
Women that I long to love…..
Oh Bali, I am dreaming of you
With mystic fondness.



Van Gogh’s Starry Night
Crowds of impressionistic,
Metaphors, awaken and seek
To liberate the mind into an
Odyssey of an illuminated art…..
Moods have been painted
To echo dreams of a cosmic flute….
A soft enchantment, a tempting
Diaspora to be tuned your art
And be immersed in your beauty.



Van Gogh’s Terrace at Night
Art lit in mellow hues ….
A wonder to tempt the imagination….
A de ja vu of being in poetic wander…..
Your solitude has opened picturesque
Wonders …..a baroque ornate renditions…
A loud cataclysmic burst with ecstatic
I am dazzled into beauty and I am submerged
In the tempest of your cathartic madness.