Earthly moons light up the sky
Scaring away but the bravest stars
Overhead, no signs of rain.
Instead, an orb of smoking butter;
And plane lights, but no shooting stars.
Where are they? All dead?
Or do we not need to wish anymore?

Atlas Shrugged

He'd spent eternity in a watchful trance,
Waiting for someone who'd ease his load.
He saw her approach; narrowed his eyes.
Not a care weighing on her big-boned shoulders.

He shifted his weight and focused. Her turn now.
Deep breath. Atlas shrugged. The world slid off—
Onto her unsuspecting shoulders.
She'd spend eternity in a watchful trance.

A mortal man, he walked among mortal men,
Trying to live their chaotic lives—
unemployed, unwashed, broke and hungry.
The situation was new, but not improved.

Atlas remembered ages spent in a trance
His shoulders felt bare. He missed his rock.
Thought about it, till it was returned.
She gave him his world and got lost in her own.

Name poem experiments

Zigzagging through ziggurats,
Enjoying the feeling of smooth
Pebbles beneath my toes -
Hues of blue and red
Run into one another,
As I smile and turn the page
----------------------------------
My life confuses me-
A lot of a little, and a little of a lot
Remains fragmented in a spiral brain
Illuminated by a candle -
Lit to find what was lost
Yet burning long after
Night has given way to day

Nadaswaram Blues

Resplendent in her madisaar pattu,
The girl of only iruvatti-aaru
Looks down at her feet with no shoes
Red designs making maps with no clues
She's got the nadaswaram blues!

The maapillai sits in his yellow veshti
Yearly-morning cold makes him want to pee
shivering slightly, deep thoughts does he muse:
From now, his life he has to plan in irendoos
He's got the nadaswaram blues!

"Maatikitaan" the mridangam announces
Through the frills and the flounces
While unknown relatives sit there and snooze
It's a good thing, they won't get any booze
For they got the nadaswaram blues...

*dedicated to a friend of mine.. thx for the inspiration!

Glossary of possibly foreign terms:
madisaar pattu : 9-yard silk sari, traditionally worn by Tamil Brahmin brides
iruvatti-aaru: 26
nadaswaram: a musical intrument that resembles a flute, commonly the main piece played at Tamilian weddings
maapillai: groom (or guy gettin hitched at said wedding)
veshti: fancy lungi (A cloth, often of brightly colored silk or cotton, that is used as a piece of clothing, especially the traditional skirtlike garment of India, Pakistan, and Myanmar, says Answers.com)
irendoo(s): twos
Maatikitaan: hindi translation:"pakda gaya"; English equivalent: trapped. cornered..u get the picture(also refers to the beats played on the mridanagam at weddings)
mridangam: South Indian drum, the other main piece played at weddings

My Muse is Out

He stepped out of the closet
Straight into my head,
A swirl of pink and violet
While others looked on,
a mix of confusion and dread

He flits in and out, between my ears
Prancing about most outlandishly
He knows every hope, every wish, every fear
And when I struggle to make sense
He helps me out, by arming me

With a word here and an image there
He knows that he's indispensible—
A lance-bearer from yesteryear
And if my thoughts aren't all together
Still makes me seem knowledgable

I'm not like the others, he once told me
I told him it really was ok
It wasn't a catastrophe
And when I'm lost for poetry,
I'm quite glad my muse is gay

Insomnia

While I sleep, they're cows and elephants
Unnamed moving shapes, while I'm awake
Fear streaks yellow against the gray in my head
I wonder, is being awake the prelude to being dead?

Shadows surge, they merge and they grow,
Unnamed fears — possibilities of dreams —
Jostle for the space that keeps me awake
How many more mistakes will i make?

Sleep, once an unwelcome friend, now avoids me
The disdain of the healthy for the ill
I crave sleep. Yearn. Seek it desperately
Some help, some sleep must come calling, eventually?

On the road

A stranger in strangers' eyes,
I'm bent and I'm broken
I know where I'm going,
but where do I wanna be?
***
Dark shapes against a charcoal sky,
crossing bridges on a moonlit night
The wind whistles through my hair,
and the smog descends,
strangling everything in sight.

****
Heard but not seen,
The ghostly battalion gallops on,
The light flashes sporadically,
Lighting up each little rivulet,
That streaks past my face.