Monday, June 17, 2013



There's something about me
that stands out.
Is it my incongruous gesture
Of putting pen to paper
Or the attempt, consecrated
To immortalize my quotidian life.
I loaded myself with syllables
Painstakingly acquired,
Accumulations of deceptions,
Concealments and apostasy
Within the circumscribed spaces
That worked usefully for me.
Each letter learnt was part
Of a panoply of interlocking
Stories that composed my life,
Which contained me but which 
I spilled out of. Because the word
Was part of my self definition.
In the end divinity played its part
For which i am thankful to a lord
Whose visitations of pain affirmed.
With my rheumy eyes, with a film
I see the spool of the past
Unravelling before me and marvel.
That i lived to tell the tale.


Perhaps the fault lies with me;
To locate a telos;a dotted point
As on a map denoting a journey
Which begins and ends somewhere.
By conjuring  a vision of you
I project my ontlogy to it
Because locating and intersecting with you
Is like actualized primevality.
I may perhaps from our fulcrum
Locate a point of fixity
From which unravels, proliferating
The interlocking images constituting us
My glance into the mirrored interstices
Cleaves our disparate beings 
As what you are and how you seem
Extend irrevocably from my aegis.
If my glance self amplifies
And validates my blueprint of you
Then you become as abstraction
Lodged intractably within me.
Therefore you are a tabula rasa
I mould into multiple stories
Turning an infinitesimal, ineffable you
Into the center of my universe.

The sink as metaphor

As i circle our turf
Rounded, coming full circle
I encounter obstacles.
Scruffy pieces of refuse
Mingle with leftover tumuli
Striated strands of hair
Enclose the holed funnel
Clogged spaces; obstructing
The passage of water
Rumpled streaks of blockages
Preventing smooth passage
And as i try to navigate
The enclosing foliage of you
I encounter ploys, tricks
That cordon off penetration.
Therefore i would like 
To burst forth from these lines
 erase these imaginary boundaries
 get through to the kernel.
So that the water,intead of trickling
Whooshes seamlessly below.

The aperture

Either you cross over
The crevice
Or you stay lodged
Within its embryonic folds
Crossing over would imply
A dimension
Where unfurling with cognition
Would be evolution's prospect
Staying within could denote
The id
Under whose primeval folds
Willed darkness might prevail.
Either way the choice
Whether to
Move on, hold back
Determines your life's course


By placing within temporality
An identifiable space
Place with itself
The place intransigently
Into a bleached version
Fascimiles and simulacrum
Indeterminate contiguities proliferate
Subversion of linearity
The integument of corporeality
Variegated realities
Make palpable possibilities
Which emerges subjective context.


Darkness steals over the landscape. Stripes of black have replaced tufts of white. The pearly moon sends  shafts of cool radiance to console the senses but the fiery warmth of the sun is irreplaceable. The memory of it quivers in the consciousness, wavers momentarily like a candle flame then subsides into the darker recesses of the soul. The darkness permeates, it casts a shadow over the luminous self. It questions the sense of itself that the self had, its air of self possession and transmutes to it an awareness of ephemeral transience. 
I would like to hug this darkness to myself, like a doll. I would like to finger it lovingly, examine its contours and feel its hard knotty shape beneath my palms. I would like to press my palms closely together in order to compress this moment, rend its impenetrability and cleft my way into its interstices. For only in this submergence would emerge a unison. Yet a unison of what? Of the mortal frame with decomposing flora? or the eternal reunion of soul with soul? For this darkness is at the very core of my being. I am the funnel where it terminates, i the frangible canopy under which it lies recumbent. Yet it stirs, as though to render precarious that which the soul, with illusory fixity had assumed immutable. 
When the soul is suffused with this darkness, the eyes become glazed and bleary. Hope snakes out of me like mist.Incandescence becomes a chimera for inevitably these dark moments emerge. The soul gulps back tears, holds itself erect, purses up its lips to leave this inexpressible emotion unarticulated. Yet it is this darkness that i need, for this darkness inspires poetry.


The cordless twangs
Startlement substitutes quiet.
And the hissing whisper
Of static crackles ominously.
Reduplicating primeval horror
Is cleft the impermeable silence
And into this pours down
A cornucopia of pasts.
Unrestful is the memory
Of an essential incompletion.
As the cranium rends the nerves
The evil cackle unravels.
It is a familiar tonality
That guttural, abrading voice,
Venerably simian yet slug faced
Sly bastard professor.


Pearly moon throws over tufts of light which with the passing of clouds throws out quivering light, intermittently. Blaring neon proclaim harshly progress while the iridescence of the moon waxes and wanes. Both lights commingle so that orange moon gleams aglow with white lamplights. There is a ominous stillness, a wavering of cessating activities as deep slumber over closed eyelids transforms man to a dimension where truth , being what it is, and its simulacra meet. With a sense of contraband pleasure indefatigable lovers commune, , converge and part. For it is under the cool radiance of the moon that that which daren't speak its name in daylight announces itself. Tides advance and retreat, the crests leaving a film of water behind. A mist softly, insidiously creeps in, permeates and swaddles emblems of light under its canopy. As it fans out, a sense of coldness seeps through and countenances, bereft of light without seek it within the vast chambers, the capacious kaleidoscopes of their mind.
Seen as symolizing life it makes itself felt conspicuously. There is a moment when the light that constitutes dawn and dusk comes together. There is a gossamer line in the horizon where the earth is indistinguishable from the sky. With the emergent solstice all is decked out as though nature unfurls under the awning of this benevolent light. Flowers uncurl, all sense of incongruity dissipates.  As the sun goes up an arc of bright yellow light dazzles the eye for a moment, illuminating every hue by specking it with dashes of colors.The morning dew on the grass and stalks of flower burst forth iridescently. Tremulous flowers sway with the wind while their tufts move hither and thither. The mist vanishes as drops of pure light penetrate its impermeability. It dissolves like an ephemeral rainbow. As the light filters through cessation is replaced by freneticism. All is awake, alive and opalescent. Acivity is disgorged, life begins anew


With elliptic loquacity
Shrouding the lack
Confabulate the planets
Directing signs zodiac
Syncopates to the beat of fate
A destiny embalmed in time
While all endeavors direct 
Themselves over its chime
Yet there remains a remnant
A random, enabling choice
Using which is charted love
And given a palpable voice
If existence is given centrality
Spontaneity flees human life
But if effulgence is retained
Man overcomes strife
If death is obsessed over
In all  its possible forms
Then life is relinquished 
And unweathered are storms
If a heart is torn apart
Below, between and above
Then extinguishes the smouldering
Breathing flame of love

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