Chained to the dust
With my own lock and key
I was standing by the tide;
Remembering the sea
Tag Archives: poem
Kohl
There is shadow under her eyes
Eclipses she called them
From the tears left behind
Of the pain that came far too late
To flow and feel with the pulse of time
I look at her bare back
With the bedsheet pattern
Still alive on her skin
The crests of her shoulders
Peeking like crescent moons
From under the sea of argent hair
So I turn away
To another day
A still life, blur, Monet.
Years ago to this Tinseltown:
People leaping out of their skins
Skeletons dancing in glass cases
The enamel skulls selling
A hollow reed laugh
And a touch at the base of your spine
As a keepsake
She was standing
Under the irreparable light
Doused in city flames
And dressed in the dark left behind by dirty minds,
Counting cars that passed
Without halting for her
My feet were silent
My thoughts far too loud
As I hovered round her shadow
Like a leftover cloud
With neither thunder nor rain
In the threads of my vein
But the promise of a shade
And the warmth of a bed
It’s been years since that night
And every night since then
Whence I swallowed her sorrow
And she pardoned my pain
And together we have slept
Counting each other’s scar
Some dealt amongst us
Others unremembered for far
And yet I can hear her
Counting cars passing by
And there are eclipses under her eyes
From all the kohl she forgot to dry…
Goddess
And I buried the sky
Deep in my womb
And there were stars in my eyes
The moon south of my waist
And the sun spilled forth white
From the cusp of my chest
So my children could glow
So my children could dream
And not be sheeps led on sermon
Taught to bleat and not to scream
At the world for not being fair
And keep a woman unaware
Of her hips and her hair
Drawn only if in pair
And shown smiling everywhere
To please and to care
And never do truly dare
Be a child of the flower
Wild under bower
With roots of our own
Chosen by us to be sown
In our graveyards and glade
For a fragrance that would never fade
From the words once unsaid
Now shared unafraid
In all homes and every hearth
Before being born and after birth
A song, O this song
To be remembered for long
We were there, we are here
No longer in fear:
Of the Bible and it’s fable
Seven sins under the table
Forced to pay for it all
Every Adam and his fall,
Without why, when and how
We are one and we are now
Equal in this fight
Of Us and Our Way
Once Witches of the Night
Now the Goddess of the Day
Dewdrops in the Ocean
I close my eyes
And the dewdrops upon my palate
Rise, like an ocean left unattended
On hot stove
Left to seethe and boil
Fold and uncoil;
Echoing towards an inconsequential eternity
Where nothing rhymes
Beneath the repeating waves
Washing themself at the shore
At the feet of a silent, silent kingdom
Rooted in reminiscence
Of a homemade horizon promised
Upon an unpromised path
There the shriveled hearts sprout as mushroom
In an endless cortege
Moving in stillness
Like taste upon the tip of tongue
And snail upon the lips of spine
An ode to the essential
Both the dirt and the divine
Blueprint
Life begins and ends
As a circle
But the sad thing is:
Most of us architects
Keep crying for corners
Verbatim
There is steel in my eyes
And the world with its tuning fork lies
Asking me to mourn along
Knows nothing
Of that cold, hard touch
For I am no maker nor master
But only a thinking man
One step away from disaster
Touchstone
Most people are nothing more
But a day older come the morrow
And that O mine Ache of Past
Is the cause of everyday’s sorrow
Through The Lips Of Living Ghosts
I live my life
Through those who lived before me
And triumphed,
For mine are eggshell victories
Inchoate brush strokes of the blind
Left behind, listening to the faceless sounds
Dreamt by dead branches and wayside stones
Alone in their darkness
Wherein all ashes intone
The pleasure of being burned alive
Only to never feel, another touch of life.
The Half Past
It was half past ten
In the broken clock
Light flooded from the bathroom
Vintage; as if streaming from another time;
A past not yet undone by dialysis,
I laid ankle deep in silk
The shawl around my neck and feet
Splitting me in two tragedies;
Naked and none, while
The feathers of my pillow whispered in their broken flight: “Do not close your eyes or all that you fear shall come alive”
There was something in those words
That left me speechless
And so I slept
Wide awake
Breathing only for breathing’s sake.
Saints Of The Cynics
How can you be so happy?
Asked the fools to the wise:
They said for we are people who do not believe in a paradise
