Tag: dreams

  • Akin

    Let me go
    And I shall be
    Something akin
    To a memory
    My flesh it burns
    My bones they weigh
    The nights are tough
    And it’s hard these days
    For my soul it wanes
    Like wax neath flame
    And I know the pain
    To always feel the same
    Thus there is no way
    Where I can sow
    A seed of pearl
    For a sea to grow
    So I shall pass
    Through the veil of sand
    Alone with eternity
    Hand in hand…

  • Taste of Sunlight

    Image by Riccardo Mion on unsplash


    My bed is in the corner
    Of an empty room
    The irony is self imposed
    But not without reason
    I have heard that darkness
    Gathers more in the deep
    And perhaps it shall help me sleep
    Faster than dying by lying wide awake
    Counting seconds, falling and rising
    With time’s unreceding tide.

    The curtain hanging by my bedside
    Often flutters in the night
    And it’s breath though purposeless
    Fills me with envy
    By it’s act of pure motion
    Sans a shred of emotion
    How can I be more than me
    When everything I seek I deny to see?

    Dreams; they die, my own are no exception
    Even when I have them
    Caged behind a glass case
    Cuddled in red velvet
    Caressed by Mozart’s Sonatas
    The flowers shall wilt, roots die and fruits decay
    Nature by nature of unrequitance
    Shall swallow none but one’s own
    For birds do not nest on trees unsown
    And those that I watch from the moonlit window
    They shimmer and shine
    Like gold and wine
    Broken; yes and crooked and white
    But they know unlike me the taste of sunlight.

  • The Pulse of A Petal

    I dissolve in the potpourri
    A green leaf amidst dead petal
    Lost men flock the streetcar
    And only I fight for the aisle
    Knowing far too well that the bespectacled windows
    Shall turn some blind in a while
    For the tapestry towns
    Stitched with dancing lights
    Is not for them to claim
    Who lick the darkness between two tungsten tongues
    And know no aftertaste to blame
    But the raindrop feet on cobbled streets
    Paper skin behind display glass
    Torn faces through the Venetian Blinds
    A world watered in a vase
    Are all akin
    To a bargained win
    For those with mundane affair
    Of humble hands with seawater veins
    Wading waves of deep despair
    But I of charlatan choice
    Of parched lips moisturised with the mud
    I know far too well of flowerpots
    And the fate of dreaming bud
    So I dissolve in the potpourri
    A green leaf amidst dead petal
    Growing gardens beneath empty graves
    Waiting for the dust to settle