One day I too, will roam with you On lovely brazen days Upon lonely wooded ways In the ovule of some random park Sighing deep and dark At the silence pooling by our feet And listen to the each other’s heartbeat; Fill the gaps left by our own A dial tone of desires Ringing in our bones And so we shall sleep On the dappled forest floor Closer than an atom Yet aching for some more Till the light leave us soft And breathing through our hair; The wind lost in the moments That our lips could not spare
I have danced Many a dances Without a song in my mind And I saw many a chances Yet pretended to be blind There were reasons For these decisions But those reasons were not mine I was a stone, sought for statues But born on an incline And so I fell down the narrow Walls, without a ledge Trapped between tombstones Out of time, for an age And now I await in the dungeons With my heart on the ground In search of an echo That can be heard without a sound
We both are tenants Trapped within the rubik cube love Shaped by our shoulders Resting against each other And there is no escape; For our landlocked lips Shifting like dry grass Under the music of sorrel wind Other than lying on different shores Waiting for the same tide To ferry us away Towards a sunset and a sunrise Splitting our world; two indifferent ways.
You count the stars between your fingers And I vanish, like a thin piece of ice A spectre, yet unfound, in the jigsaw world Left alone to wander the newspaper streets Those daily retreats of hourly love Bought with midnight mascara and silk stockings Rubbed raw between the eyes and thighs Of mad men and maddening women Looking for a cheap trip to the paradise
I hear the tea cup tinkle And know you have taken a sip Of the warm clove water Left upon the doorstep By the lonely wood worshipper Whistling for words And I am content that you did your prayer Much like my daily dead affair To show how much for each we care By being willfully unaware
Thus there is food upon the table And smile upon our faces And though the roof is leaking And the floor is unswept And there are holes in our clothes And scarce money in our pockets left We know we shall scrounge through Past the ups and downs and ifs and buts Of everyday euthanization By lying wide awake Half dead with escapist desire In some strangers arms And murmuring through their skin The leftover vows We kept for ourselves By scribbling away the love Not meant for each other
To each word vibrating with voice I say you have no choice But to be uttered And then be left in the void To dissolve Into the common silence Of myriad things miming Life’s unwritten serenity
I see yet know nothing I know but can see nothing Perhaps because I close my eyes during the day And in night I keep them open Or perhaps the day dawns when I close my eyes And night falls when I do open Thus, I am riven, cleaved clean And both parts of me are lost to the void Where they each calls for one another And each fails to answer the other So that the half words spilling through the corner of cold blue lips Become eddies; Wind painting on water And the colourless quiet Is divided equally to all drowning men
This darkness of thought Tunnels connecting the passage of time Yawn endlessly For who would turn and fall asleep When all answers of today are again questioned tomorrow
We come and go, we come and go With what desire of knowing We may never know
Splashes of white and black Stars streaked with paint brushes On the decaying horizon Universe diluted and powdered into pills To be taken twice with warm water Before the self-hypnosis servings: ‘Ode to me, ode to me The orphan child of galaxy’ A child who sees, who see: Spiders crying upon the wall And ants dying without a funeral With the human belief of being surreal Something more than Picasso’s parody of each man watered down into the same shape As mercury, slithering inside our throats, We paint the dreamland agony on our own A martyr decapitated by needle Love loaded with gunpowder kiss Lucky draw for cursory chemotherapy Armchair dissection; with thoughts clinging to the end of the scalpel Manufactured magnanimity with expired life lessons Vending machines for vison; a dime’s dream for a day Granite gods, chiselled, chewing on sand and white vapor of wisdom And we the people, popcorn patrons, watching this apocalypse through donated eyes In a fostered future where, famished children pose before the camera For takeaway Pulitzer And the humanitarian prize.
Walls with wombs Gestating hatred Watch us, the metallic vultures, as we hover With our telescope tuned for hypocrisy Our heavy hearts, aching with empathy, from behind the Kevlar vests
If only the bombs being dropped were bread There would be no war left to win
Two mirrors Broken Thousand miles apart Watch each other and weep
There is a shell of silence about us And all those who can see cannot show And all those who cannot see would not know How the world is a fish tank Submerged in an ocean And our giant leaps Reaching for stars Are paralyzed thoughts Trapped in an endless motion
So, take me to the quiet room With windows overlooking green fields And empty blackboard, Where blank books of history Are taught by children; I shall be a student of lifelong happenstance Waiting for the recess bell to ring And sunlight to flood out Into the playground And make Ghosts out of living men
The texture of wind Is not felt by the fingers Nor the weight of the shadow By the ground The time is not seen On the skin of the sky Nor is the source heard Within the sound
I keep awake Watching the parched lightbulb (And the lightbulb perhaps watching me) With my hand on the warm doorknob; Leading halfway to hell, Till the caterpillar thoughts crawl out into the silence And cocoons of dreamless desires Flood the floor As dark pools of velvet; With skin like ash and skin like glue. Fingers of fire And butterfly blood Seals the sound of the oboe In the roots of time So the seeds of silk may flower And the fountainhead of pulse Breathe in the open every night To let the swan song of love; Traced on the tips of arched spine Leave the lips And take hold of the walls To make the voice of world Like beads of sweat; evaporate, And the colours of a carnal mind collapse Into nothingness Of everyday afterlife
Forget the world Forget it ever existed for you And then watch one morning As the red sky slowly turns to blue For then you would know How true is the world And old her everyday design That began one day And remembered to stay Without you keeping the time
