By music me spreads, as the evening late sings...

By music me spreads
As music the evening late
Turns me winged...

And me flies
Horizontally bright,
As flies light
Placed on the surface
Of watery a dress...

As sizzling,
Singing,
Dancing,
Flowing,
life...

Eudora...as She arrives bright watery to the city...

And so me feels
Eudora shows Her skills
Of turning rivulets into rivers,
Seas to oceans,
And oceans to biggest seven seas converged...
Seeing how rains turns the city egalitarian...

Eudora bringing gifts of Her sublime
Unwrites all dividing lines,
Between spaces left dried,
She, by Her Holiness mixes all divides...

Lanes and streets and roads
All shine bright,
Waterlogged hearts reflect
filled logged watery minds...

And
Under a small shed
By the side of a corporation park's rain drops holding fence,
As if like a Paradise set by Providence,
me finds poems borne by Love
thick and poetically dense...
As caught perhaps by eyes immortal unseen
As painted on scriptures by street photographer's dream...

(Note: Eudora= Goddess of rains, gk,)

O my pianist, play the rain, for me...

O pianist mine,
Play it beautiful sweet timed
On reeds play your fingers smooth
By Your pedals help me sail like a soothe...

O rhythm mine
Play it like a glorified shine
On faces of children pour Your smiles divine
On mouths unfed fill Your food like a luxurious dine,

O Rains mine
Bring more of happiness to the morbid heart
Bring more Your pure to begin a start
Of living submerged in flooded poesy fluid
Of living happy not by words but by poetic deeds...

Thereon the street, where running his fingers the guitarist Slashed waves...to cool ...

There on the flooded street
Where the guitarist slashed his waves
Like cutting through strings,

Every body needing some time alone
He there sings,

Flooded a street
There he his fingers burned once,
As if strings copper he unwound and unlearnt...

Slashed
He he fingers so uncoils
As if waves there on flooded avenue
He boils...

And
Too Apparent
Like written in boldest fonts,
he sketches Only cool sleepy restive yawns...
he opens his eyes and ears to the best form
To get the idea of the rainy motion
How leaves only slumbery lotion...

and at that blessed cooled state
An old story of a fairy someone to him tells,
Calling children out to be in mirth
For monsoon has arrived on earth...
For light in rains shines always brighter as a towering piety...

(Note: on a song by Guns and Roses and a flooded city street)

xylophone...on soul...

o how He plays
to cause a dismay
onto me soul
His superb xylophone...
as drops fall
on calmed a stilled heart...
makng wavy transmission
as simple harmonic motion-
curved,
carved,subtle,
yet moving flowing
transgressing...
as life...
xylophone
becomes.

Opened to You, is like falling to you, thy Peace

Opened to You
Is like falling to you,
To thy Peace,
Thy kind,
Thy bless,
Thy forgivenness,
Thy behest
Which causes Birth every second
Thy desire
Which moves and sets me in motion,
Opening to you
Is like holding on to Your dews
Like a percept
Holding on till one
Holds you to the Core,
Where drizzling Hope
Forever joyous songs like fills me doped
And me opens up
Opens up more
To Your shower,
At your behest...

Waking up amidst country green...

This waking up
Is like having a birth
Amidst country green
Where the sky unhindered
Draws a marvellous scene,
As if the vast wide filled paddy field
Looking up to the sky,
And this waking up is also like
Seeing birds how with twines in mouth fly...

This waking up
Is like seeing with blessed tranquil heart
How the woods nearby
Is getting filled with activity
Of life blooming with godly piety,
Like a flower yawning happy seeing the songy cool wonder
Of the Goddess like Artemis weaving Her song
for me gone astray, a soul-wanderer...

This waking up is like hearing rooster's call
And finding pigeons hopping by the wet haystack...
And how on an algaic pond nearby
The sky wave like her love sighs...

This waking up is like a pathway through the grove thick and moist
Leafy dreams where lay like chapters of a book perfectly choiced...

This calm, this peacefulness, there is no ends to that end...

This calm
This peacefulness
Post heavy rain
A contemplate
This state
This opened flood gate
This gushing forth
This bubbly birth
This mirth
This silent symphony materialised
This demise...

As if there is
Only peace
and soothe
And nothing else...

This Holy Gale
Of a kind like cruising through
The sea of serendipity
Is like a sail
Towards You
Lord
Where all unrests forever felled...

This morn
This monsoony autumn cool
Is like an embrace
Is like falling onto Your Grace...
Where your feet you lay...
Where numbers of rhythm forever stay...

You there, sitting on horse, looking kind, looking through, straight...

Seen You
There on Your horse
Sitting upright
Warrior bright
With a smile in Your lips slight
As you there sit
On Your horse shining like Light
As if warrior kind
Looking through
Looking glass of me where keeps my flowing rivery mind...
On road,
Holding the clutches
Of life hardened like core so soft
As you like a dream drop...
Seen You
There on Your horse
Sitting Upright
Like a morn breaking a rise
Warrior bright
As if mellowed still and a Holy glowing Light...

This rain filled morn, this wetness on rise, where are you?

This rain filled morn such...
This drenched rapid flooded soul
Where are you dear?
This watery Venetian rise
This fall of a surmise
Where are you dear?
This happy travel tuneful
This journey to shiny pool
Where are you dear?
This lyrical sublime
This written watery Unseen Seen fateline,
Where are you dear?
This flow continous happy
This heart so wet and sappy
Where are you?

Come on out
Dear
Look out
Look up
Look around
Life is calling,
Calling you
Just hear
The music painted on screen
And just see clean
How the paintings write dreams...
On the streets...
Where joys with smileys only fix
A glassy reflect of the sky
Outpouring...

That rise of smoke and mist...round that corner...

Round that corner
Where the road bends
To catch the dreams of builds
Sleeping moist with pillows and bolsters still,
Thereby stands the tree happy
Drenched nightlong
By songs
Of the pouring sky
As if she, the tree,
heard ragas of Her divine
All through
her standing ovation so true...

Round that corner
Where the road bends
To catch the music as sent
To the city by the heavenly breeze cool
There also foggy mist forms happy takes
In eyes sleepy still on flowery journeys made
To realms ethereal as The Most Blessed, The Beautiful...
As if beauty of a smouldering rise slow
There falls eternal,
On that tree standing an ovation
As she delivers, in her motionless motion...

life is as good as this rain...

life is as good as this rain
Is it not so, my friend?
See how pools are there being formed everywhere
As if  heaven hath thought of leaving us in water here
Water the birth who has carried all through
Water who forms tears happy and also the cool slumbery dew...

life is as good as this rain
Is it not so, my friend?
Hear the pitter patter musical having a rhyme so continuous
As if water from the sky thought of filling us so porous
Water fills the earth three by four
Water from heavens knocks at our door...

Life is as good as this Rain
Is it not so, my friend?

It is a night of drizzle, light and bright watery existence...

This night
Is a night
Of stream
Of water flowing
Like love drizzling
From heaven,
For this night
Can never be dark
As
Water
Only adds glitter
As if water
Shines up
The night
So good...
So Holy...
Festive...
As me sees happiness only
In the drizzle that multiply
the beauty of life...
By several folds...

Vamos a ir a casa...

With the tune fine tuned
Like coming from a guitar
Made of wood
Air column such filled
As if each string stuck
Struck the air rhythmic...
A perfect evening like a belle
Is happening there, which me tells
You like an Abigail
Come with happiness galore
For the wet streets you meet
They reflect your wet...

With the tune fine tuned
Like coming from your eyes
Made of weeping, frenzied ,beloved sighs,
A perfect evening there your beauty embellishes,
As if you are turned a belle
And your happiness
Telling me everything in whispers of love,
Like an Abigail...

And me then proposes you
To travel Homeward...

And your eyes ,they dance in glee...
And in your heart white -Tabula rasa,
In a singsong manner
me sees a nest of happiness being built...

As me proposes
'Vamos a ir a casa...'

(Note: Abigail = happiness)

This rain is so impelling...dear have you that felt?

This rain is so impelling
Ain't she?
The rains
As sweet as honey dripping
To refresh best
Those thirsty streets...
Are they not getting wet?

And you dear you...
Are you not getting the soft
Seeping into like a murmur -
A shiver deep inside...
As if you are Rained...
Inside...
As if you are blessed...
Fullest...
As if the Rained you
Got You...
Loved
And
Suitably
Caressed...

As your mother
By her holiness
Seeded you to love...
Once...

The seed is Awakened...
Is it not?
By the rains?
To get nourishment...
To get birth...
To get fulfilling a heart...

Got Only a road to tread soft...like a green ...like dreams...

Got only a road to tread on,
Like a soft
Green field,
Filled by harvest of all seasons
Grained, whispering Only Love...

Got nothing else to do
In this small fragment
Of a movie fantasical show...
Running non stop
Sans interval...
Repeat
Pressed
All the small times
Of this small grain of life...
Stretching
Elongating
Flowing ...

However
Like
Stretching
To
The One,
The Truth...
The Beauty...

Yeah
O dear
Yea
Like a Sea,

Like a breeze

Like a rain dreaming a flood
Holy one
The Inundation...

Got a whole gamut of stories
Beautiful to paint,
Never ever
O dear
To be drained...

Still
If you feel
This life
Is calling not you
Then
have a flight
On your road own
Never owned,

Own it
Now...

Stopping at an auto fuel station, and me looking up...

Stops me at an auto fuel stop
Running from eight non stop
Are we not?
me and the machine cool...

The attendant having a tired look
Comes up with his stipulated hose-
A pipe to run fuel into the machine-
Paused, no purring;

Machine waiting
For guzzling
Fuel
(Which came in form of petrol...
Volatile...)

without looking
me looks up
The Giant billboard advert
There hung
As if destined,
Perfunctory...
A story
Of a poem
As if by Dickinson...
As Emily Writes:

We ride...
death, me, life passing by and immortality,
Kind,

And the advert
Color deep
Of a blue...
Hangs loose
As if destined
With a write
Bold, clear, distinct,
As if fated-

'I take rest and wake up at my first home. THE ROAD.'

(Note: realistic a scribble this, only if you believe...added Emily Dickinson as a zing...just...)

Not steve, nor kelly...who am i?

me?
Well...me sings in words
As paints a picture possibly
Vibrant,
That painter at Monteoliveto,
Perhaps,
me guesses so,

And me lives to lie low
On the bed of moist flowery
Earth and Heaven there wide above...

And me finds all seasons in You
All seasons like eternal fall of springy songs,
Monsoony autumn, summer blitz, winter cold
Like fire place wood on burn, cozy blanket warm,

Nay,
Me not Steve
Nor Kelly either,
For me finds spirit rising
Every moment wavy timed by You,
Your calls seeping the ether...

And seeking nothing,
me in void finds everything...

(Note : on nothingness...the Void, the Rest, the Best, the Calm)

If had i been bestowed with Your grace, me could have written you like art...

If by Your beauty
Had i been bestowed much
me would have written you
In sacred lines, photographs, prose metrically so
Arranged as if that would be a poem epical,

If by Your wonder
Had i been blessed true
me would have sketched you
Proper in pencil, in heiroglyphic terms, in polemic
As art stays there forever like clouds virtually stick,

If had i been made to delve into Your width and deep
me would have turned all the ways of life,
As usual like a search for pearls under water
In white oyester shells as hidden symbolic kept, by scuba dive,

And by doing that You the Holy
me would have done a prayer
And by that prayer chanting Your name,
me would have got a bit of Your undying Flame.

O how cool air draws near autumn...

O how the cool air
Draws near Autumn,
With Her all festive spirit,
As festive all days of life can possibly be,
As sweet and full of mist
As if me getting kissed
By the aweinspiring beauty
Like an arrival of colored dresses full of piety...
Like Pied
A beauty
Holding the best state of a flow
Singing the mirth of happy glow
Like that visibly palpable on every other form
As Nature like Goddess every moment born...

O how pre autumn me hath seen
In this beauty of a scene
Of this morn,
Like smell of perfumed dream...