Where can I get my own ISBN?

Where can I get my own ISBN?

The Mystic Chat With Mystic Queen

The Mystic Chat With Mystic Queen .

Somewhere in the distant depth
 The  psychic chat is sowed ,
 Covered with mystic dye
 It itself emits ,and  glows .

My miracle!  the image peeps ,
And the mystic queen, brings the ruins ,
For Her absence the heart weeps .

The relatives around cause no relativity ,
For empty shadows they appear ,
My mystic Queen ,alone shines ,
'Lest I lose Her' -says the Fear .

She is my desert ,flood , and forest ,
My withering end ,that me weans ,
She is , curse and bliss ,
My drudgery and soothing rest .

Her psychic is bike , that runs ,
In my ghostly gloom She is my only sun .

The Feathers Of Ovlivion

The Feathers Of Oblivion .

The void word like chaffy grain ,
Inject not the fox in the brain .
Give me a peg of your maiden look ,
And a page from your gypsy's book ,
Opening the window of your first spring ,
Breaking the innocence of the forbidden ,
Lift me, lull me with fathers of oblivion .

The Winnowed Vampire .

The noon at its thoughtless gray ,

Waited for the black night ,

The winged vampire rose from forest ,

And the desert got flooded with tide .

The wintery snake smelled ,

The grotesque of wild summer ,

Sweat oozed drop by drop ,

The anvil screamed with stroke of hammer .

The spent up swimmers loitered on the shore ,

The masquerade feet yelled at half-shut door ,

The virgin Desert  opened her heart ,

To take in the Himalayan brook ,

The greedy tongue suspended its hang ,

To relinquish the primeval cook .

Prayer To Sri Ramakrishna .

I greet hey the Lord of Unconscious retreat ,

And wish to wash your feet with tears ,

Wish to mitigate ,the sores of desire ,

And quench the ego-born Karma's fire .

I wait at your door step ,

As a dog does for the arrival of its master ,

As the dog cultivates devotion ,nourishes and fosters ,

I spread my anguish as an widow longs a longing ,

For the advent of her Lover .

Mirage after mirage pass I ,

And the burden of Karmas break my chest ,

No more I can walk and withstand ,

I need you lotus feet for eternal rest .

The Primeval Identity .

The biology demands not psychology ,
The physiology needs gearing spring ,
And zoology devours botany ,

Man is primeval by his darkest wind.

My vagabond recalls Mendeleev ,

 Reads the struggle in Darwin ,

And seek synthesis with Freud and Jung ,

And recognize the biological-self ,

As mirage in desert’s spring .

Nature’s Natural as seasonal fruits ,

We  change rooms in house of Nature ,

And vainly erect flag of sermons ,

Wearing the crude Instinct’s blare .

Our inert parameter extends to horizon ,

And fake intellect just rebuilds an artificial creation .

The Face Of A Vacant Night .

The Face Of A Vacant Night .

 Once with careless steps ,

In a shadowy springy night ,

My weary vagabond had the face ,

Of crowded street in Red-light .

Hyena ,wolf and jackal I saw  ,

Trudging in rows of caves ,

And screaming sounds with ,

Notorious laughters ,

Were sold in exchange of rapes .

Faces yellow , blue and red ,

Cast the glow of the primeval trade ,

And the hungry knaves from ancient forest ,

Sought refuge in the death bed .

Hello ! Hello! Yawned the gallows ,

And the indifferent night covered her face ,

The pitiable Earth forgot her birth ,

Witnessing the mad orgy of her race .