Dancing, till she Entranced...

In a flash, the grubby water,
As the cough of an old man,
Spilled out of the gutter,
And began its tragic dance…
Dancing, till it entranced
All humid, stymied passer-bys,
Bidding a slow-motion goodbye,
As it faded, in some heroic stance,
Dancing, till it entranced…
I’ve walked lonely paths of bloom,
But never have I ever so chanced
Upon waters so alive, so at home,
So inanely oblivious, and human,
Dancing, till it entranced…
Dancing till it entranced…
At the mouth of the frail gutter,
It gurgled raspy, with the angst,
Of a soul, marooned in some desert,
Like his last swig from the drained flask.
Collapsing into a flaccid rant…
Dancing till it entranced…

Weight of the world,its not me,

Blame the legions of impurity

And this flaimg blaming game.

I'll be dancing all the same.

I feel water, under my breathe,

Faceless; exposed my flawed soul.

I see water, when thus leak my eyes,

The hunger stay on untold.

I hear water, in ared-hot hiss,

It lingers quite white,volatile.

I am water, dirtiest of the drain,

I grime, I dry, but I never quite die.

Claustrophobia

the alarm ting tings away all by itself…selfless…
The nudging and jostling gets harder…
As I am suddenly vivid in the sequences of incidents
In my sordid, ordinary life,
As far as I see myself in that sequence…
I am locked.
There is no way out…
The threads of forbearing snap right into my eyes…
Puncturing it…
So I bleed…
My vision bleeds…

The call of the crow perturbed the otherwise solemn,
Otherwise calm lake-side, where a crowd has gathered…
At the barbwire fence, watching a claustrophobic, wailing insane…

The sarcasm of it all suddenly takes shape so clearly,
It’s better if you shut up by this time around…
The motion of my humility towards your satisfaction
Is in face with the red-lights of my glowing wound…
Now that you finally see it for what it is…
I hope you feel blessed, under the maple sky…
In my sordid, ordinary life,
As far as I see myself in that sequence…
I am long locked.
There is no way out…
The threads of forbearing snap right into my eyes…
Puncturing it…
So I bleed…
My vision bleeds…

The call of the crow perturbed the otherwise solemn,
Otherwise calm lake-side, where a crowd has gathered…
At the barbwire fence, watching a bereaved, wailing insane…

Unnoticed, except by a solitary pair of eyes.

Gangreen Grapes

When it becomes that absurdly obvious,
You laugh at your own lack of resource,
Then you growl a little to let yourself know
How you are so formidably low!

In this ploy of changing places,
My love is lost in the grapevine.
Taste my luck; it’s been to places,
Soon we can feed on sour red wine.

Standing, touching the wood of your fence,
I am done defending my existence.
Remember those words your mentor said,
The one retired,with Alzheimer’s in bed?

I know that you have been raped
By the subtle seeds of glory, soured
By the fleshy seeds of your grapes.
But now I’m losing you forever!

I will shed the watch, shred the clothes,
Fall to my chest, surrender to the floor,
Won’t rise until the grapes are gone,
And I’m with you all alone….
Because, I know, my wait won’t be long.

Fourth Element -Alignment

In a flash, the grubby water,
As the cough of an old man,
Spilled out of the gutter,
And began its tragic dance…
Dancing, till it entranced
All humid, stymied passer-bys,
Bidding a slow-motion goodbye,
As it faded, in some heroic stance,
Dancing, till it entranced…
I’ve walked lonely paths of bloom,
But never have I ever so chanced
Upon waters so alive, as it croons,
So inanely oblivious, and human,
Dancing, till it entranced…
Dancing till it entranced…
At the mouth of the weak gutter,
It gurgled raspy, with the angst,
Of a soul, marooned in some desert,
Like his last swig from the drained flask.
Collapsing into a flaccid rant…
Dancing till it entranced…

The faces that exist alone to veil souls,
To carry on, behind, the daily dirty work,
The water witness, everyday, every second,
Like the hush of a human sculpture.
The water in different drains, slither
This way and that, before and after,
It emerged through that gutter…
Perking its head, as if to say,
I have been in your eyes,
Just as you made me cry…
I’m the water you grimed,
The rain you try to entice,
And the reason you survived.

But did you ever think about that watery mirage
Faraway, upon that runaway highway?
Did you ever wonder why you always craved
To touch that watery speck of sunny pave?

Because, today water too has a face,
The face that is somberly veiled.

No drop of water is pure anymore...

Aligned with earth's leaking bore.

Mortal Things

Upon one pristine unholy night
A blood-sucking,pallid girl had cried
To slit the veins of her betrothal
Unto the glacial, carnal salivation.
To denounce her freedom in the frame
Of time, to put a reign on eternity,
To stop knowing that for years to come
She may live and age into nothingness.
To stop the growing of nothingness,
She wanted to know she will die one day.

Will someone come and untie us all,
Here in the middle of our crucified fall,
To pray with us that may she not
Come for us tonight as we’re weak?
I’ve heard a creak, don’t want to wait
Longer now that we can escape,
Her clutches, for all the while we’ll stay,
Farther we get from living for immortality.
Live I will for the blood-sucking, or godless
Reality--maybe--but I live, till one fateful day.

Look, straight into the eyes of death,
It awaits you on its hunches.
But it waits…for you to appease
All of life’s fateful wishes
For you. Death waits…
For you, where eternity...only devours.

SelFish- The Myth

Farce is my sobered mumbling
Punctuating the crack of dawn,
Darkness hangs like a rubber tire
Strung by ropes from opaque boughs;
Blacksmith’s self-indulgence clings
Like a fractured alcoholic bliss
And it led me into the clearing
In the woods, too cold even for trees.

Can’t go there again
Don’t ask me to…
I’m sorry you’re so jaded,
But I can’t lead you.

I’m not what you think I am…
Didn’t let me be what you think I am…

Far from the anemic taped lips,
Far from the blue finger-tips,
The Thorazine pacified no tears
When the nimbus overhead conceived.
The black hemorrhage of stars
That won’t hush into reticent scars,
That won’t bow down to a day in sky,
Bids bondage unto my old farce.

Looking straight into your eyes,
Open wide, cajoling mine,
Your heart beating in mid-air,
Clutching the hand we both shared…
Symphony of pretensions---
They are at an end…
I can’t hold on to this,
I’m letting go of your hand.

Circle of Mess

There was a stapled fuming rosette,
Across the pinned close-up snatches,
And an eroded silhouetting doorway
Of the brimless, riotous closet
Where you stood to receive my fall!
I am nowhere close to finding it yet…
Yet…I’m the centre of the circle.
A brisk wind has aroused the trees,
Gardening was never quite my thing,
I’m entrusting you with the orgasmic
Evaporation of water from the leaves
To usher in the austere, vivid fall!
I am nowhere close to finding it yet…
Yet…I’m the centre of the circle.
I swore I won’t scribble in my palm,
The letters always dissolve in my sweat,
It’s easier to forgive myself when I wrong,
To grab the other hand and just wait
For the conclusion of my poetry’s fall!
I am nowhere close to finding it yet…
Yet…I’ve walked the full circle.

Inside, inside,
Your flaws I can rue.
Inside, deep inside
The chaos is truth.

I’m messed in my head…
I don’t blame you…

Encircled by the mess of mistakes
I’m detached from you.

Inside,deep inside

The chaos is truth.

Anonymous

Across the grid-like mesh of rain on vinyl glass,
Like a phoenix, a scarlet-indigo streak passed…
And left me to insinuate a roadside vacant bench
For missing whatever that passed night-sent…
And distracting me with the humble murmur—
Who goes there?
On my path, soon after lightning pierced the night,
Dimming the sight of the rods in my mindless eyes…
I saw a girl up ahead, bungee-jumping oblivious
To faltering rays of distant stars unable to reach her.
Enveloping her, asked the radiance of the closest star---
Who stands there?
On those pages, I recorded the rages of my failures,
That I still remember, without the dated pages anyways.
Upon this bed, caught in the grid-like mesh of universes
Overlapping, here right now, sits with me, identical ‘us’,
Thinking, loving, remembering something I let pass,
Fondling, smelling the skin off the other side of the grass…
You were there all the while,
And unnoticed you passed me by.
And the days whisk by, upon my vinyl glass…
Today I look around, seeking her address…
In the faces I relented and let simply pass.
So humbled at long last, I ask Anonymous

Who goes there?

Will o'the Wisps...

I have to cease frequenting the highway,
With its fluorescent flaming road intercepts.
Accidents have happened, along those arcs
Skidding off the highway, skidding off the way…
And then the headlights shatter into shards,
Light stands politely beside a wraithlike marsh…
But all of that, the myth--- it glows defiant in the past,
Like the light in your eyes, through the vodka mist.
I have stopped frequenting these road intercepts
That hungrily feed the withering divide in my head,
The storm of hypocrisy, then the tears of contempt,
I bargained myself for myself, and my succint race

Have already met with the stymied green blaze

Of the self I'm not when I stare into the quicksilver surface
Of the Lake, with the self I am through the vodka mist.

But quicksilver is fatal, or so I have heard…
Highways kill without the flaming intercepts…
Yet I crave to touch that inverted image of mine…
To stagger in arcs on spotless, asphalt highways.

I am not afraid, its still something like me.

I am not afraid to pursue the green beam...
Because….
I am aroused without coffee today…
Because…
I am liked by people I have failed…
Because…
I have moulded something perfect…
Because…
I am nobody when I am divided…
Because…
I have long left the quicksilver highway…

Because...

I am on the jagged, edge of incomplete highway...