This night is dedicated to you

[osho]

I am flowering
And I know you like to suck on me
That is why I am flowering
You cannot love me without consuming me
On my mellowness
Chumming me you wanted to gnaw at what I value
My virgin seal, my un-kissed blossoming lips
All dedicated to you
I know I can coexist with you
Or else I get lost in an infinity of space
I will be reborn with you and through you
Your lustiness to my untouched body seems foul
But I know beauty is more vivid in company of cruelty
I know you will torture me in your passionate gripe
I will cry for a while when I bleed
But therein I feel life flowering

[osho]

Life is not life
It is a make-believe dictum
Life is a philosophical notion
You wove in your caroused moments
Which part of me is life?
My ideas? My body? My knowledge?
I cannot relate, my friend
Does to be full of life mean to grow into maturity
Maturity into my intellectual self or into sexual self
I am really divided when I read so many philosophical notions of life
Their seeming gaudiness at the root is shallow
Can I exact anything from your definition of life?
I am told to call it life
But never told to question it
I really wonder what motives you had
When in my prime of life you stuffed my brain with this nonsense
I want to undo all these fillers
But alas this world has occupied me too much
I cannot undo it
For I am castrated
I am sterilized
Living emptied of the fuel to motor
What you call the tempo of life

[osho]

We are dreams
We are the dreams of the stones and soils of this earth
This shudder we call moving life is the soul of the stone
We are stones and clays and this form is a ripple
Our love, passion and urges are the shakes of the stones and soils for adjustment
For the stones and soils’ prior existence approve of this fact.
A moving gale swept the dusts of the ground and rocking them formed life
I feel I eat rock mixed with soil soaked by water
When the rocks shake and sweat it becomes thirsty
That is love characteristically
For we cannot easily understand this subtlety
Since we are still in dreams.
We are the dreamers
We are the dreams

[Buh4Bee]

Osho- These poems are hard to make as much sense of as compared to some of your previous writing. You have a nice way of rolling words together, but I wish I could decipher more meaning.

The other question that I have is who are these for? Sometimes it sounds like a love-object and other times a parent. I think if it was easier to figure out the YOU, it would be easier to get the jist of the poetic narrative. I do like the stream of conscious style.

These are a bit more subdue emotionally. Harsh poetry can be difficult to read sometimes. It feels like someone is yelling at you the reader.

[osho]

Thank you for reading my poems. In fact you is the other person who at times becomes a torturer, at other times becomes a sheer witness.

In fact I changed my style in due course, driving myself to a way of writing poetry. I know I have to be simple and now most of what I write are experimental I believe I have not done justice to my readers.

Since poetry is my cup of tea and I will work toward honing my style.

[blazeofglory]

Your poems are interesting, full of new ideas, somewhat iconoclastic. I like the stuff. They are somewhat intricately written and I like the words syntactically used in them