कार्मेल #7 (a new series for 2025)

Lo, yon maiden, fair yet meek,
Knows not the light her visage keeps.
The stars do whisper, soft and low,
Yet ne'er she heeds what they bestow.

Her step is light, as dawn’s embrace,
Yet sighs she oft in darksome space.
The rose doth bow where’er she treads,
Yet wist she not the grace she sheds.

Her voice is like the lark at morn,
That wakes the world when night is shorn.
Yet modest stands she, doubting still,
Her splendor veiled by fleeting will.

Would that she glimpsed through others’ sight,
Where beauty reigns in purest light!
The heavens weep to see her blind,
To all the charms her form doth bind.

The winds do whisper, hushed and sweet,
Of wonders where her soul doth meet.
Yet cast she down her gaze so low,
That ne’er the truth her heart doth know.

O fate, be kind and lift her eyes,
That she may know what never dies—
The light within, so bright, so true,
That all the world doth homage do.

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कार्मेल #11 (a new series for 2025)

Worth the Risk I just want you to know- In the quiet spaces of my heart, A wish begins to grow: To pursue you, to make a start. I want to take this leap, To risk it all for you, For in your presence, deep Within, I know it’s true- You are worth the risk, A treasure beyond compare. Win or lose, I won’t regret The love I choose to share. What matters most to me Is not the end, but this- That you feel, undeniably, How precious you truly is. So let me show you every day How lovable you are, How much you mean in every way- My guiding, shining star.

कार्मेल #12 (a new series for 2025)

I don't know how to unlove you. Not when my body still folds like origami at the memory of your name. Not when I flinch at your cologne on a stranger walking past. Not when my grief still speaks your language. People say "move on" as if love is furniture. As if I can pack it in boxes and send it away without it haunting every inch of who I am.

कार्मेल #3 (a new series for 2025)

"May-be a Red String" by Bugs Bunny Falling was never the intention , yes, there was attraction , but never an admission , then a reverberation , ignited by a constant simulation , in this rocky cognition , brought about by a noisy sensation , that left a scary intuition . a question, what if this is just an imagination that has no possibility for fruition but mere humanity pushes for a direction that asks for an action regardless of expectation , all wanting a possibility of a connection because all this suppression is beginning to become a full blown im plosion of what was just a little suppression held by a weak gravitation . Then came the confession, unsure of the this declaration, a liking that was a hidden expression, of a quietly kept emotion, but telling you is a decision, made by a deep appreciation, for your subtle mystification, that this mortal find a difficulty in comprehension, allured, encapsulated, by this crimson elation, you may call it a contusion, but su...

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