Castle

Plumbing the droplets, escaping the faucet of my dreams
I built a little castle of pearls, just to stare at-
Not to live in.

When the moon shines or the sun sets, it gleams eloquently
And I see small birds and large butterflies
In each crystal.

Sparingly I clean it with care and a small handkerchief
Always afraid it will dry up one day, evaporate
Into a very thin air.

Untitled

Bleed Bleed Bleed, burn burn burn
Slake your thirst and run
Through green grass and marshy bogs
And through fire,
Baby I have given rise to hell.

And when gas fumes rise and rosaries fly
Along with Ice candy and jolly lollies,
Gather them for your sofa feasts -
And when you are plastered up
The really hurt Michelin man
Cry out for more blood and
Cry, for momma to soothe you.

Road to redemption

Stringing drops of blood
On a thread of smile
I cruise on the six lane highway
Of life-a charlatan, an outlaw.

She stands far away in the
Sunshine, like a revelation
Beckoning me onboard her
Magic carpet - to eternity.

Auburn skies and red eyes
Cloud my vision, maybe I have
Driven a little too fast
Down the road to redemption.

One afternoon in a dark room with an open window

The afternoon sun shone brightly
On my two feet, just peeking out of
My blanket of dreams.

Warmed thus, they tried to find some
Solid ground, just below my bed
And found a carpet.

Soft it was, downy flaked maroon
Threads – woven to perfection
Each string. Then the eyes opened.

I saw my warm feet, saw the stale
Bread on the table. Yeast, jam
And a few Creole words of fantasy.

Then the sun moved across my
Window, searching for my hands.
Found them, drenched them.

Then it moved finding my lips -
Wet. Trying to dry them, the sun
Failed, fell and left.

Sympathy

The undulating curves of fate
floated
in the sky,
abandoning even nominal references to
silent screams for sympathy.

Driftwood

The driftwood of memories clutter my living room
Like carefully collected antiques with -
Old turquiose inlay work on ivory of -
Dried tears.

They look at each other with sombre
Smiles - some smirks and some genuine:
And I often join them with a moist heart
And some sarcasm laced whiskey.

The End

I am thus,
a conclusion.
Where what went and where what comes
Is thus recorded, precised in me.
An abstruse statement of ardent desire and spent dawns,
I am thus, as you say, THUS.
A conclusion.

Obsession

We married each other like
The princes marry a honeycomb
I was quivering with the spasms
Of a bow, as an arrow leaves its hearth
Till now, it was a clean sweep
of smiles and roses over melting candles,
But when the honeycomb melts iself to
Build fragrant lighthouses
I feel a repugnance for life.
Till the moment I loved
I was happy with red tapes
And when the man inside began to speak
I felt a repugance for life.
Till death do us part
And death played truant,
Sent a cavalier, lied and smothered me
With songs of carols,
When my rosaries of tears will
make me sing for easter.
Am I too disgusted, or am I demented?
Or AM I POSSESSED?

A Dialogue

"HER"
In an attempt
To cut all the dead wood
Floating in the vaporous abstractions
I snapped my own roots.
Now I float rootless
Trying to plant myself somewhere
In some distant land
That exists only in my dreams.
__________________________________
"HIM"
A sliver here and a sliver there
Of mold and moss. Green
Like tadpoles dead in a deluge
Of promises of a new Spring.
And so I am, I search,
A lumberjack planting trees
Of those dreams in lustrous farmlands
Of my unkempt, beautiful tomorrow.

Tête-à-têtes Of The Dreams

"HER"
My day is tunnel of light with patches of darkness
Light places a strip on my eyes
And darkness reveals the world to me
"HIM"
Torches of dreams lure me to the distance
Yet I love my penumbra of unclear truth,
Just refusing to reveal myself
Dreams are butter;
They spread over my existence like soft, instantantial toast
Only to go down my throat,
Like
A quick breakfast
And nourish me through realism of the masses
They are also there at places in my head
Like, clearings of tie and die clothes
I die and I live, still measuring how much I live and
How much I live
Also like clean aanchals
Laugh they do, with ducks sewn on them
And then wipe my tears,
Into small mirrors tied in tight threads.
They then wrap around my existence,
Making it seem lissome and blithe with a vibrant redness
Of the flushes from an unguent caress
Of a prodigal and truant lover's lace.
"HER"
I poured reason in two wine glasses
Raised one above my head
And poured it into my life
"HIM"
And they flowed into my liver like any other wine
Only that they were of the color of my solitude
Smiles are such nice a nice facade of water
Looks like a waterfall in elegant cascade
And I dream and dream again.