Mystify my soul
Let letters drip down nectar
That wash away
– Pause. Dramatic Pause. –
And let tulips become beacons
Of this desire,
Leaving little puddles
To splash in
Every day.
Month: November 2015
Last Card (day 1625)
Too late, I told myself,
The toilet had already been flushed.
And there, before me,
I stared face to face with
A two faced bandit
Who said he wanted more.
So I, in my duress,
Shook warily as if in fever,
And the last goodbye
Was dealt around
One card at a time.
Memories on the Wall (day 1624)
Smooth charcoal edges coated a tingling memory
That laid beside a warm body glowing.
It took foreign dust on antique chairs
And unraveled a long robe onto a cement floor
With cold toes and blue lips.
And at once, the abrupt end of this ceremony,
Captured by a small jagged and a little dot,
Returned to the inanimate wall
Struggling to stay awake.
Recollection (day 1623)
I had hoped that love would pull us apart,
Out of time and waltzing along
Just our minds as memory.
Take my hand through the old maison,
Let stardust fall, undisturbed;
Glowing embers upon frosted floors.
A heart that thumps clears the air
And cats nearly cry with magical pyre,
Never lost for a memory.
Sun begun laid all that was,
As sand blew ghosts beyond despair
An air of recollection collected there.
Napkins (day 1622)
Ladders have begun
To disseminate my mental state,
Unpacked and re-packed
Long term storage boxes,
Dusty cardboard napkins.
Zigzagged metropolitan markets
With wicker baskets lined
With checkerboard napkins
And leftover spices
Under soiled paper napkins.
This night train is lonely
When the lights flicker just so,
I spend spare moments of memory
Re-reading the same four lines
Written on a folded square napkin.
Rainy Day (day 1621)
Measuring droplets
Unfolding and shaking
Skipping puddles
Think-Tank (day 1620)
This is nonderstandable.
Graphically explicit and blurring lines
That have been drawn out so carefully
By think-tank alike-thinkers
To show a way that cannot fail –
Will not fail.
This non-sense blasphemizes our capacity
To grapple hard bits of mal-comfort,
And undercuts the very essence
Of our giant human-kind steps
Towards liberation and freedom
In a unified mission towards love,
Strength, and peace.
So don’t bow down to your sense,
It is understandable.
Silent Echoes (day 1619)
A long line
Stretched an open quarry
Leaving silent
Echoes shaking
Suspended Theory (day 1618)
I want to make this angle
My devil’s heart.
I want to hold it so close
It juts deep inside
And nicks all sinew
Related to nonsense
And the abysmal relief
Of suspended theory.
November Tears (day 1617)
All of these effortless waves
Have torn my shores,
Wore away the devil’s work
Into cavernous outcroppings
And pocked rubble.
Leaving for me
A peaceful saunter
As November gales turn
My icy thoughts
Into tears rolling down my cheeks.
