Her lips looked like two lakes
smothered in blood,
and her laughter; an act of splitting the sea in two,
the brushed teeth – soft salty shore
the widened mouth – its split
the emitted sounds echoed – fluctuating waves
Her breath was that of the
water particles; the sky its destination,
sunny, humid, a blessing – showers, blistering rain
Her anger, lightning bolt, contagious, unwelcoming
inflicting sickness thereafter
a-choo, a-choo, another,
spreading quickly then quicker,
causing a quiver, a stutter, an utter
“stop. Bring us blood again,
lakes of blood again”
willingly, submits, humming chirps of birds,
she announces
the end – an eventful beginning
sun rising, rainbows forming, she is laughing.
Again. The sea is splitting, again.
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 2:44 AM UTC
His chest moves
upwards then inwards
as a man
would wave
from left to right,
when every breath he borrows
from the atmosphere
is returned
back to where
it once came from.
His mind presents itself
as a knot
to untie
rather than a melody
to twirl to,
And perhaps, this is why
he snores asleep.
Every ten minutes : A Thunder
striking for a second
or two.
He resembles a glass of water
in which the liquid seems clear
though present,
eventually evaporating
as the tasks
he ticks of the lists
every time
his eyes wake
from the dilemma
of justice
in a city
degrading
the artists and the painters,
the poets and the dreamers,
the physicists and the biologists,
whilst praising
corporations handing titles to
women as
inert particles
flying off a boiling ***
and men,
as the controllers
in a virtual video game,
He wasn't dreaming.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 12:28 PM UTC
every time I speak
to your best friend
I pray to every Aztec God
and once holy Pharaohs
and stones worshiped
on this planet that
he tell me you are nearby,
or that this was all a big sad joke,
or a prank
or that you would come back
but no.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 7:47 AM UTC
I feel like my emotions
are no longer under my control
because once all I felt was love
and sadness would only hit me
when I’d go back home.
Little did I know you were a nest ,
I was a bird and every night
I would sleep on a branch that wasn’t my own,
because darling, you are home.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 7:45 AM UTC
you’re the light
radiating from a light bulb,
in a dark dust-filled room,
the molecules of air
become visible
when you look their way,
they appear as floating
clouds of pixels,
as though we’ve discovered
the software room
of existence
---
you look away
on the wall,
and I hope you realize
darling, I see none
but what your eyes
view, because light
still radiates from you
in this room,
you see a wall
cracked, grey, with Roman letters,
and I see
the Trevi fountain of Rome,
perhaps a little romance
would do us no harm
---
you look my way,
with eyes so bright,
and my vision deteriorates
unable to see anything
like a car nearing
in the middle of the night,
and its head lights flashing,
blinded I become.
possibly looking into your eyes
blinds me,
and white all I see--
darkness.
---
I blink, once and again,
now,
I see vivid purple and blue
figures, faint
from looking your side for far too long.
(Ajna)
and perhaps,
this is how I love you,
everything I see
beams with happiness
as though the only Chakra
elevated is Anahata,
but when you leave,
my vision blurs,
and I never see the same again.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 8:55 AM UTC
it is a dry feeling
in my soul and my mouth,
as though speaking
seems too much of a troublesome act
to commit
as though a crime,
to utter a word
or two
or a sentence
or a phrase
so I’ll stay quiet
in hopes that the people by me
will understand --
and if not, let them be
because I only care for you
and you’re the only
one
who can release me
from this
selective mutism.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 9:33 AM UTC
I’ve been quiet for a while,
silence has devoured me
into nothingness,
I’ve been watching more,
perhaps reading
seems too much of an effort
or an act we’d usually do together,
I’ve been thinking,
about you and the times
we’ve spent with one another,
I think I’ve replayed
the first time
I met you
a hundred times
without any exaggeration of the thought,
and I’d replay it
a thousand more times
if it means
your presence by me.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 9:31 AM UTC
maybe I’m lying
maybe I’m protecting myself
like you told me to
I listen to our song
and I shed another
and another
like a tap that’s been left to stream
my thoughts
they scream
they shout so loudly
they want to converse with yours
and my hands
they desire yours
and my shoulder
wishes
oh so wishing fully
that your head
would rest on it once more,
that we’d lie down
my arm around your neck
that this would all be a nightmare
that you’d come to me
with a solution,
that I’d meet you
perhaps another time
to tell me you still love me
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 5:55 AM UTC
I was about
to enter
a state of unconsciousness;
relaxed limbs
and a resting head
on a soft mattress
and a puffed pillow,
then you came along
and spoke
to my thoughts
and demanded I write
and listen to you
translate your presence
into free-versed
lines and stanzas
and I always
surrender to your demands.
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
I’ve missed you
and writing this
has been long overdue,
I gave you my heart
though it tore apart,
you halved it with your words–
your ever so charming choice
of vocabulary:
the knife
which shred it open.
Now if I hand you
the device which
pumps the air into my lungs
and allows the flow of life
into my veins
would you tape it back together
into a functioning pump?
or would you throw it
into the well
and drown me along
secluded within such thoughts?
Perhaps I
must ask
myself
first.
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 5:42 PM UTC