Willow weep
Willow weep
Seven seas sway and sweep the watery grief of the wavy wisp
Woods woebegone
Silver spring
The Savannah lay stretched and smooth as the scorching sun of the
summer stream down the heat of the summery noon
O my willow
Weep no more
I’ve come to comfort you
I’ve come to soothe you
Singing the honey sweet songs of magical hue
The wings of the swallow slowly glide through the moonlit space of
spatial loop
The top of the pot come out to drop the resin of the poppy next to her
purple frock
The pottery of poetry hang off loosely of the autumnal leaves and
twigs of the pine, sycamore, and mahogany
Life’s a race
Some won
Some lost
While some are still stuck in between the bogs
The boats upon Ganges lay afloat, swinging and swaying as the love
ripples roll roll roll
Earth orbits around the solar ball
The virgin bleeds under the blanket of fall
Leaves fall
Leaves fall
Follicle of life the death toss
Willow O willow
My soul fly
My flesh drop
The whore-sisters cry as the priests and politicians pollute their plots
Painstakingly she picks up her frock that lay all bloody, lay all torn
beside the bedside where her incestuous forks sported with her chaste
virgin fjord
Willow O willow
Let me not sob
Let me not talk
They cut out my tongue so long so long
I couldn’t escape
I couldn’t tip the top
I could still feel the rain-drops dropping heavily in my naked notch
The mass-murderer pleads guilty on the pretext of insanity, and the
criminal justice system sets him free
Once again he comes out on the streets and start shooting and killing
whatever whoever he sees
Such are the awry ways of our society
Where children are victims
And the adults are the offending freaks
The priests in the temples steal the gifts from altar
The presidents at the podiums are playing politics with the common
mass and too simplistic confused worshippers of their crooked
serpentine speech
While I was young and green I used to run after the sky
As if I would catch her with my outstretched childish thin bare hands
Alas! No matter how far I would run I could ne’er e’er touch the sky
Then exhausted and tired I would rest a while beneath the sweet
smelling mangoes’ blossoms blowing in the easy breeze of the monsoon
Suddenly I would wake up from my daydreaming of the childish kind
Hearing my kind mother’s voice from our humble home of thatched roof
and outlying structures of bamboo and pine
O whereof have gone those days so carefree and fine
Where is the child that once stood so bold and tall atop the mountain
of mystery manifold, magnified
Now that I’m old
Limp a little on the left foot
Jaws have jutted out
Teeth are yellow tainted and gums are too soft and swollen and unsound
Left eye sees less than the right eye
Hair thinning out
Baldness creeping up around the sides of the head and skeletal frontal
Bones feel feeble and out of line
Keep forgetting day to day chores
Cannot dare to walk alone
Sometimes stand naked by the pool
Forget to eat
Or eat more
Sleep siting up
Keep staring at dusk
Smashing spiders with coffee cup
The wife died before ten years, and yet she promised me that we would
die together
The weeds in the garden have overgrown over the tiles and terraces of
time and marble stones
The lotuses in the lily-lipped-lake long to lick and suck the last
remaining remnant ray of the southerly setting sun
The dahlia, jasmine, daffodil, and jui spreading the heavenly
fragrance on board the wings of the butterflies and bees
The fireflies have lit up the whole canopy of colorful green
The ends of her silky sari the windy wind kiss
She has full lips
Ruby red, outlined in lipstick
Ripe rich chaste nubile breasts
Nipples nimble penetrating the chalice of Heaven
Anklets on her ankles
Waislet resting ruefully on her curvaceous waist
Feet and hands are painted in henna-handed-haze
She shines like jewels and emerald
Lovely loving nymph
A fairy enthralled
As beauteous as beauty could be
Divine purity subtle sublime
She touches my Phoenix
My Phoenix gets sweetly frozen in time
My live love Unicorn she rides to untie the wildness of the horned
pleasure between her wet warm thighs
Taming the wild beast putting it deep between her soft softened wet
I die, I die
Yet I do not die
Like the unknown daughter of Aphrodite she resurrects me time after time
Sucking the seeds of my Scripture with the fiery tongue of her
Olympian Tribe
Like a prophet old and bold
Like a lily gilded in gold
I had become all enshrined, all entombed
Till she set me free of her magical hold
Soon after I detached myself from the fastenings of all celestial nuts
and bolts
Willow, willow, willow
Will be naught
Will me not
Surely she will sing me the song
Soaking me full in her purple-frock funeral home
The wake is long
The coffin is cold
Put me in my grave
So that I can remain truthful to the presence of the evil spirits
staying invisible beyond the faculty of all sense and souls
The rivers that rise and fall
The seasons that fruit and form
The deceased that deceive not the pain of womb, the secret of tomb
Willow, willow, willow
The swift swallows fly away singing the love serenades
The sinking ship by the front sink first, then the rest sink below
the bottom of the Earth
The whirlpool of desire the maiden bemoan
The boatman row his boat as the twilight touches gently the tip of his
wet oar
He chants an ancient tune as his humble rustic boat slowly break the
Ganges’ lore
He has to go home, but before that he has to stop to a village store
to buy some candy, some rice, some lentils, some vegetable, and some
fish if he can afford
His little angelic daughter is only two and she always wait for him by
the wooden stool
Every day he buys sweets for her
Every day she smiles more
His wife is very young and pretty
She works very hard cleaning cooking
She keeps a vegetable garden, and she planted some roses and marigold,
and hibiscus pink purple
She weeds and water them with motherly care concern and fortitude
Before even the dewy dawn open her eyes she’s out there milking the
cows and tending to the needs of the half-paralytic village mule
Her flocks of chickens and pigeons help them survive through the hard
times when he cannot row his boat
The boat-man row his boat singing a melancholy tune that he once heard
from a flute came to him floating in the air of the far away eastern
exotic moon
He watches the waves of the wise mighty Ganges as they roam and roll
upon the watery breasts of the mysterious mystique romantic Ganga
made to withstand the merciless strokes and thunder of the destructive
Willow willow willow
The boat-man row his boat
He thinks of his little adorable daughter, Maya, who’s only two
She’s the most precious little thing that ever happened to him
He loves her more than he loves the longingness of his wandering
wondrous soul
His kind loving wife is so chaste and pure
She’s like a goddess that we worship in the temple of truth
She’s the epitome of beauty, bliss, and benevolence, love imbued
She makes love to him like the daughter of Zeus
Bangles on her wrists break
Anklets on her angles come loose as the waves of orgasms rush to break
on their love-seashores
The boat-man row his boat
He has to go home
But before that he has to stop to a village store to buy some sweets
for little Maya, and some betel leaves and tobacco for him to smoke
He likes to smoke his hookah and contemplate on life’s unending,
infinite happiness and rue, the myriad of maya enmeshed and concealed
in the Universe where the stars twinkle and the planets orbit around
the celestial suns and moons
He likes the way the smoke of his gurgling rises above his thatched
roof making odd strange known unknown figures in the evaporated thick
light heavy smoke
The sweet smell of his wife cooking spicy curry, porridge and honey-
sweetened floured pies that he and maya eat with such fervor and
loving eyes hang in the still serene air of their kitchen-kerosene
She has put away the green mangoes to ripe
Some guava
Some peaches
Some other fruits exotic eastern kind
And after she had finished doing her chores, putting little maya to
sleep by singing lullaby, she entertains her boat-man husband by
making love warm and divine
The wet orgasmic sleep then slowly settle peacefully unto the
contented couple’s eyes
And they sleep wrapped up in each other’s arms to dream away the
The ferny undergrowth under the underground of the wooded wild lay
soaked, moisten, and more wild as the rain of monsoon fill up to the
brim the half-quarter-empty rivers, ravines of death and life
O my willow-wept-woebegone-woods
The wooded wonder wander around the whimsical wooden-wedded-grounds
The awry windy widow wind whistling wickedly as the tornado touches
down upon the tribe of the timber clan with the death-jaws devastating
The trees get uprooted
The mountains marvel at the deafening sound
The rivers flip over to turn around, changing their flowing intensity
toward the direction of the trembling tearing lightning-struck
thunderous clouds
The pilgrims leave Mayflower with hearts full of new hope, new prayer
They touch the soil of the New World with love and piety and excuses
to steal lands from the naive innocent native Indians!
Killings of the buffaloes
Introduction of diseases and new cultures
Trail of tears
Who’s here
Who’s there
Willow willow willow
Please do hear my prayer
I want all of us to live together
Worshipping the same Entity below the same blue sky
Holding each other’s hands in times of hardships and fear
Get rid all the classes of race, wealth, color
Hug each other as brother and sister
Share your happiness
Let your sadness disappear
A tiny pore of the porous strain filter the light of the life-giving sun
Our sons and daughters are our future
So nurture them
Culture them
Support them to be our standard bearers
Respect your parents
Love your wives
Go not stray to the paths of unrighteous layers
Help your neighbors
Help the elderly elders
Home the homeless
Home the lovelorn sailors
Feed the hungry, the hunger
Let the light of knowledge drive out the spirits of the evil-doers
O the road that stretches far far away beyond the reach of all seer,
The untrodden paths are the paths that remain not to be stirred
Shindor( vermilion ) shimmer on the parting of her long long black
silky hair
She has worn a satin sari whose loose ends flair the jasmine fragrant
fair fine air
Lily-lipped-lips lick the dew of the pre-dawn mist
Her fully blossomed perky breasts topple the throne of all gods,
goddesses and angels staring at her in envious lustful sigh
Her hips curvaceous curve out the curvature of the spatial line
Time trick her not
Nor tide tie, try
She’s the beauty besprinkled with starry sparkling light
The mother of mothers
The lover of lovers
I do not worship God
I would rather worship her
She’s my extinction
She’s my existence
She’s my willow-wept-tears tearing out my soul sans hearts
Willow willow willow
We came
We went
We will come
We will depart
Many a men came and went, and many a more will come to repaint repent
this ever repetitious cycle of recycling cell
Goddesses in stone sit and stand
Sphinx stood alone amidst the dry deserted desert-sand-storm
Witnessing lone and lonely many a fall and rise of the prophets,
pharaohs, kings, queens
The fertile valleys of the Nile supported and then sucked up dry the
seeds of civilizations that the countless nameless men women built up
to care for and cry
None stay forever
None to cry upon your tombstone of decayed rusted rhyme
A blue-belly-butterfly suddenly flutter by
As if the whirr of a winged-wind caught her off-guard on her first
fanciful fleeting flight
The red-beak robin singingly die
Owe no due
Owe no dye
You and I must depart and die to make way for the others to follow the
same sequences of death and life
What remaineth
And who to remain
Is not for you and I to decide
Save the selfless soul who we will ne’er e’er come close to welcome or
Willow willow willow
Let us adieu
I cannot thus go on deceiving you
My ink-well empty
My pen weep no more
I must pay the girl now who I hired for a preview
The same view that I viewed view
Yet I cannot satiate my lustful beastly brute
She bleeds a little
I rejoice in my loot!
Willow willow willow—
The maidens are milking the cows too soon
The grass upon the prairie glow in green glow
Unkempt upheaval of the forests and anthills
The thoughtful pinkish pensive tulips are in the midst of making myth
as the miracles of the Milky Way expand and contract to the divine
proportional ratio of the endless infinite space
Elliptical structures sharing equi-distances from the central point of
The unbearable shame to which she couldn’t confess
What else is there to be said while the protector prey on his own
And the girl with her father’s seeds jump off the Eiffel
Double digit recession
Tax hike
Food costs
Desperate call for to fix the unfixable systems
Black widows
White widows
Broken doors
Broken windows
Theories of theory
Forced to commit crimes, forgery
The societies force the poor naive innocent girls women to become
whores and prostitutes
While the priests and the politicians keep polluting and desecrating
the truth, the virtue of love, life beautiful
Day by day my hope diminish
My praying hearts betray to its own beat and rhythm
Life on the first lane the petals of the ruby blue roses pace, and
then withdraw in romance
The storms and hurricanes upon the Atlantic blowing toward the Pacific
Land of honey, bread and hay
Drink my wine
Eat my flesh
The triple-crown gold fish cry in the tank
The killing tanks approach to the outskirts of the towns and village
The shellfish in the crustacean shells are sailing away to swim across
the thighs of the semi-frozen lake
The US ambassador got killed in Libya as the consulate was set ablaze
There’s no escape from the nonsensical sensitivity of the faiths
The jihadists use the Holy Book to justify their evil ways
While there’s not a single verse in the Koran that tell people to go
I’ve read Koran
I’ve read Gita, Bible
In fact all the religious Scriptures of the World tell you to honor
and respect
Avoid violence
Dishonesty and forgery to get your own ways
Share your happiness
Let not thy neighbor go homeless or hungry
The dark ignorance of the minds cause the causations and effects of
all unrest upheaval
Willow O willow
Why I weep
My mind is clouded
My will is weak
I cannot rest my restless mind from the whirr of the evil wind
All day, all night I think of my nearing death
And after that where I should be applied to be played
Will there be a new me
A new name
A new relic
Sacrifices of the goats and gifts
A new God to worship
A new Lucifer reigning in Hades
A new human race flaunting, floundering, failing, flourishing
O to what means and ends
All been heard and seen
All been sighed, sighted, and seemed
Willow O willow
Have you yet heard the soft whisper of the winnowing wind
The silent whistling of the tall yellow haystack upon the lonely patch
of the summer west wing
The tortoise nestlings sheepishly taking off the protective shells of
their motherly inns
While the hungry famished vultures and kites above are circling in the
ravenous trips
The sad salty waves that rush to break
The purple beaks of the kingfishers are gorging on the dead fish steak
Every life recycle
Every death die to die again
Willow willow willow
I’ve come to weep with you
The world is too much with me
And I cannot seem to escape thy immortal ephemeral scream
Thereby, I must say adieu
I do not care to write anymore
The same sad story of our humanity upon a small orbiting planet placed
in the Milky Way Galaxy
Willow willow willow
I’ve become you
And you’ve become me!

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