Based on “Land Down Under” by the Australian band Men At Work. I wrote it for one of my soccer buddies from Sonoma, California wine

I am sending one of my poems. Let me tell you we Indians also think about, love, freedom, democracy as you… Full of brave children

On a dark desert highway Polluted wind in my hair Warm smell of gasoline Rising up through the air Up ahead in the distance I

I come from that ocean Who doesn't know To capture that sunny Island The distance is a tide And in my green hands The people

Beneath earth's skies on cold granite, color of night a Lady cries. Her heart battered. Her eyes bruised. She speaks to what lies beneath the

I am a woman In the East I am not a sinner to repent In the East I am the “SIN ” itself I am

With the very first tremble of my eyelids The invasion of thoughts I had so tactfully Kept off my grounds, Began I winced And wished I'd

freedom, is a commodity purchasable depending where you find it and how bad you need it I had lived without it not knowing of it.