1
Like the  turning sheets
of a monthly calender,
life has layers after layers.

How would he know that ,
just a callow youth on  sea shore
playing with  smooth pebbles,
that was when he saw her first.

She was the woman who
taught him, whole cities lay merged
within a woman, like wave after wave,
she was a mystery like life itself.
There is no way to decipher.

2
They first met
in the city of light,
Diwali lamps were lit
in all courtyards,
It was an immortal moment
in his  life, he realized,
leading him gently to the light
which evaded him though he assiduously sought,
she parted without a word
Did she belong to someone else?
3
The city of sorrow,
yet again brought them  face to face
Ridden with angst of existence
he stumbled, was about to fall, then
he  could experience her iron will
more than a woman, she stood, like a pillar of strength,
she took his weary head in both hands, pressed to her breast,
pulled out the crown of thorns, their paths
diverged again, inexplicably complex, was their relationship.
4
In the city of guilt,
an unexpected meeting again,
they were surprised. Here, they were on their own.
They  wanted to take their lives in their hands,
in spite of the currents that pulled them to different directions.
But he knew all the while that her self, was divided between
three cities in her.They co-existed, Light.Guilt.Sorrow
will their love survive? Not all loves are intended to live long,
a parrot in his tree of loneliness always whispered.He pretended he didn't hear,
A game of dice, almost was their lives, mysterious forces did bet on their lives,
Having traveled through fire and water, she was beyond pleasure and pain,
Kali with a fiery nose stud, female power that overcomes all pain,
she became, that shattered his dreams for them.
He was thankful, to be awakened by her,
the light she lit, burned bright, within.

Now or never.He crossed the river.
Deliverance comes from an inner source,
otherwise all will end as an idiot's tale
signifying nothing.
Her flame lighted his wick, liberated him.
5
Fire spitting dragons one can tame,
but in the duel with demons of life,
it could be a blood letting end,
call it play of chance or what ever
they are the  easy game here
He  packed his backpack and
started to move eastwards,
Westward bound was she, invariably,
her heart had still a song left for him,
the void was filled, the pain was stilled
with anesthetics of mind.
Just for one last time they went to the beach,
watching the sunset was their good bye to each other.
They never met again.

I don't believe in God.

I believe in dark skinned girls
That scream Leviticus at the two
Teenagers on my second bus home.

I believe in my mother heaving
Her woes while my father
Tells me to change the channel and
Stop being so bad at life, as though
Theres a syllabus I never studied which
Teaches you that the expensive apples
Are the sweetest and the 60c ones
Will leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

I believe that you can be bad at math
But good at physics because you know
That a stone thrown from x will weigh c
And therefore get to y within k amount
Of time.
Y being you and c being me, naturally.

I believe that chewing on foil is bad
For your mouth but is a stress reliever
For all the times that your work has
Been ripped up and then thrown
Back at your face, as if symbolising
Your entire eduction.

I believe that there is a light at the
End of this tunnel but you've got to
Hold my hand while we feel the walls
For a switch.

Click.

A sadness in my heart tonight
must be told, then dim that light.
To never see its face again,
and feel the pain that eats within.

A tragedy befell, you see,
and stormy nights still torture me.
She fell and died while in my keep,
and now it haunts my every sleep.

Her face so blank and eyes opaque,
my heart fell hard, and then to ache.
No turning back what time hath wrought,
my constant conscience battles fought.

A fear of storms was Mollie's fate,
the night was dark, the hour late.
As thunder rumbled in her chest,
and her heart pounded in her breast.

To run and hide, but never from
the storm that was about to come.
She climbed atop a place to see,
what made this horror, what could it be.

But leashes length, a noose had made.
Fell to her death, no more afraid.
I found her hanging from the chair,
part of my soul still hanging there.

For simple errors can take a life,
trip up the stairs, slip of the knife.
I put the wrong leash on that night,
it strangled her, I took her life.


Forgive me my fellow poets for this unintentionally dark poem. The tragedy happened a year ago and I am still trying to find some closure. Mollie was a little mixed dog that I was fostering for a local shelter. She was kind and playful, but deathly afraid of storms

Please justify your actions.
Give me some reason, and make it a good one, for what you did.
Did you just feign happiness?
Did you feed me lies that you knew would go straight from my ears to my heart,
Skipping over my head completely?
Why?
What purpose did you have?
And why, now that it's all over, do you insist upon making me feel like the villain?
You refuse to look at me, like I'm Medusa ready to turn you to stone.
But the only look you'll see on my face is a hurt confusion.
The anger went away quickly, and now there's this utterly perplexing hole left behind,
Because I still don't know why.
I know you were happy.
I know you genuinely cared about me, and us.
So what happened?
What broke in your mind, making you run away without so much as a glance backwards?
Nothing changed until you decided it should.
So give me just one reason, and make it a good one.

Grab my bike
and wheel it out
into the driveway.
Snap of my helmet
clicking under
my chin.
Mount and push off,
and it feels like flying.
Pedal effortlessly
gliding over
the bumpy ground.
Arms are red and itchy
eyes tearing
head spinning.
Puck walks along the trail
and I pedal next to him
until he stops
and I look behind and se
him standing erect,
noble, looking out onto
the horizon.
Dad comes out with
a brush and calls
for Sara,
and she patiently
stands still as he brushes her,
puffs of white fur
fluffing behind and
coating the grass.
Green is thriving
trees are waltzing against the
gray sky.
Dandelions peek through
overgrown grass,
and biking past the window
in the kitchen
I smell taco seasoning
wafting throught the air.

This moment,
with my dad playing
with Sara
and my sister biking ahead of me,
wind whipping my face
and
my mom in the kitchen,
it suddenly makes sense,
life,
and why we live in the
first place.

Hasta La Pasta!


She stands in the doorway
As is her wont,
Bidding adieu to the retreating figure
Who spent the night in
Adoration of the Magi,
Her charms, her hair,
Her serpentine figure,
And scribbling on Hello Poetry
Till his eyes said, no mas!

The retreating figure that be me,
Late for work at 7:20.
Over the shoulder I exclaim,
Hasta Mañana!
Which is silly because
My return is faithfully guaranteed,
Every eve for as long as I live!

She laughs and replies,
Hasta la Pasta!

Stop in my tracks,
About face and in woeful Italian,
Do exclaim,
Hasta la Pasta? Basta!  
(Italian for "that-does-it")

You can have my love, my soul,
But leave to me the labor of poetry.
Loving you with words is
my domain, the speciality of my terrain,
So no hasta la pasta if you please,
And by the bye, I would love some
Tonight, say around seven,
At a restaurant where the moon is
The only light illuminating our faces.

7:45 AM

I stood alone with eyes closed,
in the perfect view of the sky above,
generation swept below my feet,
waffle laugh filled the street,
they talked, without speaking,
they sang, without sharing,
empty, their soul filled with darkness.

Free are the doomed, the idle, the fallen,
for they are breathless, of this stagnate air.
I stood alone with my psyche open,
with quivering bones, and steady thoughts.
Flash of time, was catching my breadth,
ties of love, care and passion,
left behind under cloud of dust,
they say when your time is here,
you see the flash of your sins, mortal,
only, under the dark of my eyes shut,
i saw the face of my fallen love,
the reason of my life, the reason for my death.
I reached my arm to embrace,
i took the leap, into the space,
my face kissed by gust, my hair filled the dust,
the sky felt departed, as i inched the earth,
no cause to commend, no regrets to mend,
i feel free, i see my wings,
i feel young, i see the springs.
today i fly,
behind i leave is a lie,
heaven or hell i can't care much,
for freedom my heart clutch.
The world went quite as I hit the dirt,
the sweet pain seized my soul,
blood set free off my vein,
my last breath, drifted,
as it rose up to the blue.
I lay there cold, untied,
with a halo of blood.
Shattered, unwanted,
bordered by the living slaves,
silent screams bury the unwanted grin,
hollow prayers crucify the reaching hand,
in the end there was just me,
in my death, I am free.

I  watched you as you closed your eyes last night,
lying there unshaven. God help me it hurt
to think that this might stop,
that you might leave.
So inside me you are I fear
only bloodletting can ease
the pain.
Purge the emptiness and
accommodate the half- love
you bring to me.
Even that will do.
I feel its  warm, slow trickle
seeping slowly through my pores,
over invisible scars that wept daily.
I've made a space for you
in this torn ,twisted, broken
and bruised shell.
I doubt you notice though.
You will if you look at my eyes
and see the colour of my tears.
Watch the slow stream
of blood-red stain my
tortured face.

I have no idea why I come to this bar every night.
But I just do.
I just leave it feeling jet blue with the weight of the wanders of the world crushing down on my shoulders.
And I leave with questions and grief for anyone I see there.

Of pity for the girl behind the counter who isn’t very pretty.
She’s washed up on the wrong side of the great Mississippi.
Now she’s working shitty shifts and pulling pints filled with misery for the bums of the city.

Of shame for the alcoholic with his alcohol frozen brain.
Standing by the bar eying up his drink before he chooses where to take his aim.
But it’s his own fault he got dragged into this whole addiction game.

Of humiliation for the boy in the couple corner alone with his head filled with that question he shouldn’t have asked her.
At least he now knows his place for it finally been confirmed.
And so it’s time for him to forget it by sucking up his bottle of Estonian liqueur.

Of frustration for the poor taxi driver who picks up drunks stumbling up to his car under the influence of the pale moonlight every single night.
I ask him if he’s been busy even though I know he has been asked this by everyone he has picked up tonight.
Despite this he answers me just to be polite.

Of eternal embarrassment for my own self when my face hits the pillow and I ask what I’m doing with life.
Why I’ve went to that hellish bar another evening to get drunk off my face and spend all my of savings and come home alone to go to bed and cry again.
Worst of all is I know tomorrow it will be a repeat, like the next day and all days after that.

I have no idea why I come to this bar every night. But I just do.

I have nightmares every night.
I feel like I have become numb to the notion of fear.
The demons don't frighten me;
The ghouls don't startle me;
Death doesn't shake me.

But yet, I find myself now awake with tears streaming down my face.
I woke from the dream that frightens me most.
The dream that is a true reality that I live every single day.
I dreamed that I saw my love from a distance;
And that he would not knowledge my existence.
No grins peeking from the side of ones mouth,;
Not even a wonder form ones eyes.

You sat there as I stared at you
Silently begging for you to see me and end the pain.

I live my greatest fear every day.
The cold shoulder you give
Sends the dagger deeper into my heart.