I have fallen from the caskets of your rhyme
Before your lips touched mine.
The shying shimmering sun of poetry besmeared
To the black ditch of night.
Perhaps in the chilly untimely eve
Long after I unfold my fists to the bleak hush
We'll cross the tranquility of a rebellious spring
Jittering away from a white New York.
My violet of the east - like a chocolate
I gently osculate at her dew
Un-playing the violence of devouring.
Satiating, forgetting the long un-quenched hours
In that invention of contortion, of love.
And I tripped back and forth
In the abysses of thought.
Binging, incubating her bites.
Knowing incoherent strings of shattered nights
Unknowing blue skies from blue hearts
Indifferent she, flew in indifference.
Leaving behind traces on fragile wings
Of a grasshopper , oscillating between green tips.
Or soars away breathing on young lungs.
In those sights my vision gets locked
I See 'em in admiration, across draperies
Of transparent windows. Beneath, the blue firmament
Dribbles flurries, while the air gives shelter.
I'm short of breath; you have flown away;
Come back on wheels, conquering ephemeral defeats
As victory, as the eternity between lines of the mortal poetry.
And we'll be the songs in a pure land,
We'll be love, formless; and tunes
Melting into all and sundry skies of the Earth.
I , in my dominion of carnal shelter
Saw two images, intricate to the fading imagery
Construed in peril and then dispatched in secrecy.
One of an usurper, his sad eyes seldom lied.
Spoke of red yolk of the sun, with the fragility of stumbling squirrels-
Images conjured to the soil, wet grasses of a far away summer meadow.
Dead to the outsider, debauched in alchohol
Pinnacle of death's armour, a lady once remarked
Only confused my separate self then
Who only glided in tricycle , while he warped in inexplicable madness.
Another lurked with chime, harnessing seasons with conferred finesse.
She poured on dead towns, while hers encircled topsy-turvies
Of known channels. Her hourly quartet warped manifolds of time
Widely and foaming to the singlehood of the lashing wrinkles.
Perplexed tricycles unfenced, staked hours to lid of metaphors
Only logics died then, to the sullenness of receding.
You who never come
While the world reaps famine
Miraculously alive marketplaces
Civilize cowards with warehouses of toothpicks.
You who never come
While millions fight the futility
Talking about revolution and Gaza debris, whereas somewhere
Unheard Andes bask in solitude of Bolivian skies.
You who never came
To take away the blank delight of mornings
Turning the cemeteries into golf courses
Toiling mute behind the mirror of pseudo shelter.
You who never tapped my dreamy nights
The endless conjuring of serendipity
But, assumed earthly forms of designed crime.
While the orphanage smells derision,
In your smiles
In your empathy.
You whose promenade hovers in leisure centers
Of legislative morality, broken piano lids
Amused to open windows where waves surge
Forever eluding , echoing negations..
Let the world read and frown
As the letters etch the troubled mud
Steering clear of the 9th -
Opacity is yours. Mine lofty.
Or the gentle predictable ripples
Alternating between crests and troughs
Scoped in the nightly binocular.
Locked in the shore of the collapsed few
Deterrent to constancy , slamming doors
Over empty dead evening rooms.
Words shine each new day
In cleverly twisted wrappers
And your approval, till the new inches
Towards another cliche.
Perhaps the greatest puzzle of a formless universe
Lies in its becoming, and reading
More from the foetus , than the terminal .
My burdenless hands deem crossroads
Comely gravity that alights
And sits inches away, in unbroken form.
Further drifts the distance
Because its the end we always desired.
Except for the little mindless fish
Propelled in viscous streams,
Entire world as it perches on promises
Minute trivia, rolling from bedside to bedside
Avoids kinks of friction.
Mindless hydrant of desolate subways
Where thoughts trace the unheard
Imprisoned in the misnomers
While above, the conspiracy leaps another
Certainty of not knowing.
Solitary journeyman gazes lipped travails
Luminous to the few earthly
While in denial to the transcendence
But, when the end lusts for mellow mornings
Light punctures the dark
Rolling its tongue over inadequacies.
The spoken comes unbidden
Reckoning the secrecy of the unspoken
Never inches to the written but,
Only amuses itself to an openness -
Ephemeral in its etherised denial
Diffusing to New York's smokeless burial.
Need you as a mirror, till you shimmer
And while Ackerman sleeps behind bolted doors
Nightly knocking you whisper my name
Unspoken perhaps. I can only hear rain drops
Latching yours to coma.
A today left me unrecognizable
Just a multitude of reflections
Beamed and frowned at
While the distant sun rages a crescendo -
Beneath, the grains of repentance
Ripen in the unrest of unknowing.
And my infinitesimal being
A night in its burning dream
An agitation in the friction of metals
Mirrors the momentary you
To the distant opaque eternity.
