Through you,
My empty hands,
I know the shape of this world.
Category: Poems
Art, emotion, life
Stardust
Far too long ago,
I stood on a bridge,
In crowded solitude,
Counting stardust; those city lights,
Ignorant that it belonged,
Each for a man and his dream,
Limping endlessly, by alleys,
Of censored minds.
The Titan
For strangers I yielded,
The sky on my shoulders,
Whilst my own, perished,
Beneath my feet.
The Colonnades
The wind tastes of stale season,
Filaments of it dry from disuse,
Twist and turn, twist and turn,
Into morsels for those,
Who have nothing less,
And wish nothing more.
Wait inside,
Let the walls fall down,
For wide in the open,
There is no one around,
Only a yawning road leading away,
Into a darkness done in artistic way,
From whence spills laughter; lost voices sorrow,
Wishful pretenders of a belated tommorow.
Wayside rises Colonnades; meaningless, grotesque,
Attempts at perfection,
Pillars of pain,
Heaved by hands, long buried under. Wonder-less, vacant eyes,
Still life, still life,
Breathing in the earth,
The moisture, the metal
The irony, the mirth.
Their raised fists, now barnacled;
In iron forged upon
A green glade, now barren,
Weaned and watered, once;
By the hands long buried,
Under wayside colonnades.
So the ghosts have gathered,
For a better afterlife,
Pale mouths, witnesses, sing
And march in naked apparel,
For a debt long unpaid,
By those visionary,
By the blind men,
Who dreamt of the colonnades.
The Lesser Might
The sky shall bear my shade of blue,
Once the mountains holding my ransom,
Shall behold,
In their rootless wonder,
The might of a mere bird,
That dared to dwarf,
Those heavenward pillars,
With gentle wind, under feeble wings.
Vague and Vivid.
And now the nature,
No longer resembles me,
For I too have perished,
Under this temptation.
The Cast of Desire
Tall men,
Poised with thought,
And the motion to move,
Stir,
Only to think again.
Sailing Shores.
Tell me,
If we meet,
Where the sky greets the sea,
Will we fare the ageless tides,
As moonlight in oyster lay,
And be bound as a pearl forever,
To be found some beautiful day.
Or.
From the goblet of a thousand stars,
Choose one never leading astray,
Build a ship out of the very salt,
So the sea itself shows the way,
And when we reach that virgin shore,
With the sunset trailing behind,
We do the deed of kindness,
Free all pearls we can find.
Circle of Life
The broken brackets of our lives,
Are linearly aligned,
To capture the unattainable,
With symbols that rests meaning
In meaningless,
By virtue of the common consensus,
Of those few who fumble,
Along the centre of the line;
That stretches across,
To hold its own shadow,
In a perfect, faultless symphony.
In The Name Of The Tyrant.
Bemoan the loss of love, my friend,
For all your work and all your wit,
No sun shall shine differently,
Atop the throne, upon which you sit.
Thou have shredded mountains,
Carved in sky another moon,
Let fields to be burnt black,
And turned red the blue lagoon.
True men have fallen,
Fallen men had been found,
And the polished marbles,
White as bone,
Are now treaded without a sound.
Macabre music stirs anew,
Dead wood against damp motion.
Empty ships wander aimlessly,
Upon the skin of ocean.
Thine will hath done it all,
Thy hands are forever marked,
This journey would near no end,
For which you have embarked.
And when you are done and gone,
As a memory without a face,
Thy tomb shall hold no runes,
Thy dust shall find no place.
For thou have shredded mountains,
Carved in sky another moon,
Let fields to be burnt black,
And turned red the blue lagoon.