Not a Word

Every time you conquered your obligations to me,
Every time you surmounted your own sincerity
In the promises bidden to me,
You undid your own words,
You untied your faith
In the vices you grieved,
You magicked the pre-existing truth into a lie.
Even though you never said one word of lie.
Not a word.

Frozen Nib

The keel of these pages glares aghast
Across the seas of burning glass,
I have never strayed this far ashore,
Burning waves swollen thus galore.

Burn my trinkets of thee power,
Rejoice in the undying flavors-
Bliss, mercy, cowardice and praise
Bestow upon this disgrace.
Bestow upon my emblem…
To burn and to blaze…

Punish me, punish my will;
These stoned eyes have long lived.
When will I ever sober down?
When will this wrist begin to pound?

My frozen nib,
Will you ever forgive
My desertion today?
Will you sacrifice
More of your scarlet ink
To allay my old chains…?

The sweetest call of a cuckoo recoils
As it leaves no grace in my voice.
Why the evening bell of the ferry brings
To my memory this lilting ring?
No sound on earth seems to deem
More destined for only me…

I hope to be the only one to hear,
To own the secret of the boat.
Solitude stands between me and the river,
In the woods of the half road.

And I am also the only one to know of
The reason I came with you along…
The only one shall vanish into the river
With all you ever gave her.

My frozen nib…
Will you ever forgive…
For deserting you so anonymously?
Will you burn if I asked you
To do it alone for me?


Frozen nib
How do you forgive?
Every single day, I ask of you… this?

Burn.Burn.BURN.

Blue Realms

She stood, baby girl, with her baby curls smeared
With the scented shampoo of her mother’s drawer ---
In the doorway, dripping nose, and awkwardness
Not quite for the reason that was her hair or face.
Somebody tell her what will happen soon to her,
Somebody whisper to her pink translucent ears.
Somebody hold her, and tell her she will be alone
Somebody love her while she is still not gone.
In this hyphenated expressionless pasture,
What does one anticipate except more fear?
What does one hold on to but more insignificant years?
What can anyone do…but hate…hate… and bear?
The hand that holds her is never fatigued,
The grip merely shifts from lucid to stiff.
The words never fail to tell her to obey
The lips only defy what a human might say.
Might hey…

Don’t watch me fall, don’t watch me flinch,
Don’t watch me bleed my redundant stitch.
I am bleeding on your white clean floors,
Something your moon-grey roof can’t reach,
Something the sky in your land never will…
Only obsess with blood to swill…to spill…
To swill, to spill.
To swill, to spill.

This world is the fortune of no-man’s land,
Upon this dirt, the mesh of truth stands.
The watchtower safeguards the fumes
In the horizon that harbors the bloom-
Of the end of a baby’s first dream
And the beginning of her small realm.

Silencing Their Cure

Critters of the gallows do still wallow
In the last blink of a cold eye,
As the winter turns to swallow
All the cures of all our old crimes,
And nobody seems to quite know
Who to turn to with their foiling?

This planet’s rotundity the sun still resists,
As nothing comes to any real end.
As long as nothing comes out of crisis,
How can a day yet begin?
Do you wonder why your trail recedes
Every day, till it fades upon your feet?
Does eminence embellish what lies beset
The pain of a cure of a disease unknown?
Enough you have tried to cure your fate
Kill it shall, as it praised you to be born.

Staggering under sleeping-pills,
Ribs slackened against your breathe.
What were you trying to cure?
What did you think you could escape?

Their eyes wary, their lips parched
They have long searched for the divine touch.
But now they are sleepy, almost restlessly…
They have learnt to never feel lonely.

The cure or the incurable shall always be

Always very close to their heartbeat...

Always very close to where no one speaks;

Not the incurable...nor the cure.

Under

When you hypnotized me, I saw what you wanted me to see.
When you memorized me, I forgot every reason I laughed at me.

I let you in.I let you understand me.

And you let me misunderstand who I am to me.

I let you see me.I let you see me naked.

Now I can't see myself..anymore...any way...

I made you high, I made you sigh heavy.

You let me down to my mirror suddenly.

I let you fill my skin.I let your hands trickle down me...

You let me tear myself out of my twisted origami.

Into a thousand disdainful pieces...

That will call you occassionally.

I Thank You. A thousand Million times.

I Thank You for understanding me.

Who I am...or was when you hypnotised me...

I can't trust me anymore...anyways.

The Tryst of God

The crimson eye-shadow sees
What eternity once overlooked
Down the isle of frozen fallacies
In the land of dried-up brooks.
As you never came again
To bury what you had killed.

You will never see again…

How the feet scrambled,
Sloshed against the parapet floor
And limped over the threshold,
How it escaped into the vapid night,

An open wound to bleed to life…

The ripen flaws of your soul
Will remain forever locked
In those eyes, in the wound,
In the stagger of the eager walk.

On the glass in your eyes mayhem,
Hammer the tears of the heavens…
When she molded her demise
With the forgiveness in her dead eyes…

When the night descended slowly
You bargained your soul for her body.

What God you yield in your turning back
Who has no future, has no past!
You believed you yielded her eternity…


…So you left…

But she escaped.

Afforestation

The tree of Hope
Grows a little more
Each time a leaf falls.
The branches wither,
But the roots dig deeper
In search for the last drop
On this planet of water….
I shall try to be like it,
I shall go on to fight it,
My hurt, your pain,
My sad, your sorrow,
My today, your tomorrow…

So what happens next?
I want to know, tell me what you know!
What happens next?

Maybe in this lifetime
If you don’t happen,
In another, and another…
Not you but maybe us.
We will…and then
There’ll be story in our name,
With our faces a fountain…
Do you listlessly gaze?
Into the bleary distance
On a soldier’s funeral
Walking down the hall?
Do you smell the wall
Where his fingers crawled,
And wonder whether
He was your savior?
And whether you were
Meant to be together?

I shall try to be like it.
I shall go on to fight it.
My hurt, your pain
My sad, your sorrow…
My today, your tomorrow…

The rest, I don’t know…

The tree of Hope is still here.
Where It sheds its leaves every year.