Syntax.

i hold the warmth closer

It seems a memory past

That though has done the distance

Yet remembers the kiln

That stoked its embers sweet

Its honey dripping lips

Bidding farewell

That keeps nostalgia still

Bleeding its red art

Sparkling like bits of sand

That now breathe of

Mortar and concrete

Dreams that spent life recalling

How the hungry waves

Had fed at every hour

Every minute, and so on

Because now you realize

That how an echo howls

And keeps the dialogue going

But with itself

For though crashing they are

And coursing as they scream

A faltering drop of blue

Like some grim punctuation

Hanging in space

Inhaling the vacuum;

Exhale.

Blue Blooded

i wash my face in the mirror

And watch in its million drops

Reflections warped to behold

Or another mask Rorschach

The ink lay panting spilt

On white reams untouched

The strands soaking by turns

Immuring obscurity of facts

And out came rushing tumbling

With emptiness the words

Their shells a hollow cocoon

Of dreams that diaphanous were

That glistened in my harsh gaze

Like a rainbow painted bubbles

Pricking the sun.

i watch them drift asunder

In the flickering strands of breeze

That leaves me gasping again

For my claustrophobic reverie

That chokes me bit by bit

To squeeze the remnants of-

A splattered day, a chance meeting

And all those voiceless thoughts

That kept piling in a corner quiet

Because i never knew where

Does solitude of the world seep

To but sprout its tendrils here;

Here where the variegated moss

Of your life en-homes my dungeons

Seeping in its quaint moisture

And draws its hopeless art.

The Colour Red

It shall be the happiness after tomorrow,

Perhaps;

Let off by some sigh, but

The wind here grows only stronger,

And sun’s scattered beams,

Take leaves red and rub their sallow,

So now they must gleam green;

Watching us with orphan eyes,

As we sit suspended together,

Unsure;

If dusk would spill its secret dust,

Or would it be just the two of us,

Our mutual darkness;

And a ceremonious incense,

That just wouldn’t light.

There’s a fire raging below,

Like a red gash from a scimitar;

Bleeding black earth,

Burning the sky,

And filling our caress with tender smoke;

I look up distracted,

And find its careless smudge-

A crescent moon that barely breathes,

A crimson drop incompleting the horizon;

I taste a familiar tinge that drowns,

All the other bleeding senses out,

A drowning vortex of vertigo,

Calls an unfamiliar name to echo;

That, and the many uses,

Of the colour red.

Jabbertalkies

The day’s streaks are getting long,

Motion blur, i am informed

Add to that a certain curve,

That upon itself would turn upon,

And swirling whirls will tumble forth,

To eddies made to greater form,

And rise like tides of a full-ish moon,

Or better still our global warmth,
Thawing life in ice trapped,
Letting pipers escape the gates of dawn,

Who come to me to rue their ruse,

But come to leave and be ever gone,

For trapped in dreams of a dying man,

Life devours, what it does yawn,

It’s rather black this heart of man,

And denial's days are rather long,

A slip down the memory lane

And eternal’s paused the moment wrong.

The Waiting Room.

Waiting is acknowledgement
A realisation of denial
Introspection that does silent watch
The puppets play in the lawns outside
Their light strings like shining smiles
Painted plastered so they never knew
The parched songs that hum our lives
You can pick up it's groaning buzz
A disquietude that runs along
Palpitations that on pavements walk
Measuring time and it's seconds brief
Weaving along; in webs coy homes
To be united is to be lost.

Asphyxia.

Cigarette smoking is injurious to health
The sullen sun scoffs the fumes
That like smoke signals spoke
Filling empty clouds
With my love
Messenger messiah
All in vain
Like little boats that drowned last night
There was a storm upon the sea I heard.

A Vicarious Kind.

A vicarious play
Of light is life
And i learnt from life
That all is mime
Education;
It may be opined
But words are short
When so is time
And moments thus
Must laden find
To walk forward
A step must be left
Behind.