Trust

trust.

I don’t trust them. All of them.

Curves, edges and silhouettes

that haunt me.

They make themselves known to you

When my eyes are shut and ears are covered.

I’ve dreamt with those shadows.

The ones that spill a sweet

murmur down past your navel
and too what I wish was

possessing me.

On how you possess me.

How they want it.

I don’t trust the curves of

their finger on your wrist, the

egde on which they lean over

or the silhouette of a smile

that lingers on their lip.

The boil that rumbles in my

ivory cage, just wants to spill

all it’s light and fire to

extinguish them. Eliminate the

shadows of doubt that linger

now.

Shade

Under the gloomy moon I was, last night, 

I was exiled by the frost realities,

Only gazing at the moon bright,

And see how we are refugees from the self,

Even our consciousness failed to give our asylum,

We try to kill the bells’ rings, 

The last sigh, last breath of a dead soul, 

But after all, after hitting the ball,

After our bodies frost from depression, 

from sadness, fried grief of huge mansion, 

A small squirting of sound go mad, 

Inside me, or not, maybe inside my heart,

Saying loudly, loud and loud hither, 

Maybe it’s the last sip of water, 

Or the last flicker of light inside the dome, 

Last breath of anything freaky fresh, 

It may the last planted branch on this land, 

The last tree amid the sand, 

The last blow of wind,

Last minute in this cracked land, 

But I will breath until I can’t, 

And I will live to the last beat,

To the last cast of time, 

To the last shadow of mine. 

How to be lonely

Avoid happy friends.

You rue them, not your happiness, 

But your inability to be it’s flesh.

Avoid happy friends without guilt.

Do not feel the need to be their mirror. 

Be a mirror to your own silence. 

Be kind. Walk home late at night,

carrying back not only it’s zinc darkness, 

but also it’s moons and stars. 

Let the moons and stars 

share your blanket along with the darkness.

Find the right words.

If it’s loneliness then call it that. 

Do not sugarcoat the leaden word. 

Say it. Loneliness. Let it find

a word next to you. Let it sit

next to you for hours. Let it encumber

your skies till it finds, one day, 

a rent in them to leave.

Don’t hurry it. It’s never been any use

taking scissors to the sky. 

Taxonomy

In the shadows I am lost;

I wonder and scream,

As I count the coast

Of neurology

And psychology;

Philosophy and Taxonomy,

What am I saying? 

Where is the deeper meaning? 

Why do I complicate

The things I’m seeing?

Leave me be, 

Or show me love-

The choice is always yours;

But be aware, 

O ye be warned,

Of the mark upon you 

Being near me will burn.

Will I yearn or dominate?

Get your fucking facts straight-

I may be a shadow, 

But I live in love, not hate!

The fames abate, but never quench,

I play the game, not ride the bench, 

Until I know the pain, I’ll wrench

My heart from love 

To brokenness. 

Calendar smoothie

you are. An autumn sunrise. A cloud. A storm. spring. warm rain. a flood. a whisper. a surprise party. a verse. a flickering light. march. april. may. an argument. laughter. drying ink. old love. the sweetest friendship. a bright morning. a new day. hands. breath. cold. falling snow. an open mouth. December. January. February. Home. Skin on skin. crooked teeth and smiles. a song about loneliness. A song about triumph. 

you are. a full belly meal. September. October. November. a movie theatre with cup holders. a slow evening. Something soft. feather. Fresh mango. Vintage sweaters. black and white photographs. whispers. Calligraphy. hot sand between toes. 

you are breakfast in bed. June. July. August. Stained glass windows. an old building. evergreen. An endless metaphor. an ocean. Every ocean. Everything. 

Pathetic fallacy

Having fled their native urban clamor, the newcomers greeted the residents of their rural refuge with indiscriminate geniality. To everything living they offered a smile & a friendly word. To the astonishment of the locals, first to respond to his promiscuous bonhomie were the birches. Then why, a farmer asked a groove whose dappled shade he had often preferred to his own domestic complications, did you never speak up before? & why, replied the tree with the stoutest trunk, didn’t you? When the farmer took the question in silent stride, the rest of the grove rustled, their judgement confirmed. Before long , the attention of the new residents was met with a flurry of expression from the long-repressed vegetation. At first it was enough for the naive humans to attend respectfully to the widespread resentment of the thistles, the meandering narratives of the frost grapes, the magisterial pronouncements of the oaks-turning for respite to the sweet & supportive maples, with their general supply of sap. Soon they permitted themselves to be proved by the delicate tendrils of the man-root until offspring were generated, giving the lie to the insuperable separation of the phyla. In time, the proud but challenged bipedal parents were overwhelmed by their intimates new-found urge to connect. Desperate for peace and quiet, they retreated to the urban jungle, where they felt less guilty  turning a deaf ear to that other onslaught of revelations & demands. 

Society

Welcome to society,

We hope you enjoy your stay,

And please feel free to be yourself,

As long as it’s in the right way,

Make sure you love your body,

Not too much or we’ll tear you down,

We’ll bully you for smiling,

And then wonder why you frown,

We’ll tell you that you’re worthless,

That you shouldn’t make a sound,

And then cry with all the others,

As you’re buried in the ground,

You can fall in love with anyone,

As long as it’s who we choose,

And we’ll let you have your opinions,

But please shape them to our views,

Welcome to society,

We promise that we won’t deceive,

And one more rule now that you’re here,

There’s no way you can leave.