And
I've unbecome hinged
Came from natural
To succumb the raspy
Cry of a leaf
In the night falling
Despairingly
Against wind
Again to crash on bark
Wingless helpless
At fortune's whims;
Crying hymns not heard
Over nature's soft breeze,
Nor the whispers of the
Left behinds nor the tales of
My fellows since gone
Or a bellow not one
Of the infant bud dying,
Just mine, here: t'was not fair mine nor their
Suffering.
And I fell away
Into a sun
That melted my veins into
Dust. And I cried.
To no avail
As we all
Must.

She couldn't see my face for long.
I told her, I will return to your lap,
But, I was imprisoned in a cage of brutality.
Flesh, blood, chaos were my daily food.
I fecklessly took the taste of these.

There was no lights.
The moon never peeped through the cartain
The Sun would never rise
Only the hunger of flesh was existed.

There was no peace.
It was a day dream of optimists.
They waited for the new sun
And charished a dream of Icarus.

The air was polluted.
Anarchy, monarchy, and cruelty were floated in the air
The only perfume was the rotten flesh
And decomposed body was the mask.

The surroundings was full of music.
Nuclear weapons, guns were the instruments
Tanks, bullets, and bombs composed the melodious song,
Inhumanity was passionate audience.

Today I am a winged bird.
I fly in the boundless sky.
I sing with birds, and take fresh air
The sun, the moon, and the stars are in my feet.
I smell the blooming flower
And observe her inquisitive eyes.

I touch her but she doesn't feel.
I see her cheek burns with tears
Climbs down to my emancipated body.
I call her but she doesn't reply.
Someone holds my body and keeps me in a coffen.
She brusts into tears and scolds me a 'lier'.

I was looking for the suitcase
one of those work trips
Staying at a sterile Ramada
TV blaring through fiber walls

Down the hall a door slams on sleep
My heart leaps like a squirrel
onto a New Jersey highway at rush hour

So much for –  “Have a pleasant stay.”

I lay thinking about road-****
alive-- then incongruous –  dead

Awake, listening to trucks
log their roar of rush
Then, whine to the distance – away

Awake, till I can smell
perfume of the maid's cart
masking evidence of people

Awake, hearing
twitter of Spanish
Smallish women in turquoise uniforms
long dark ponytails
cleaning rooms
like stalls in a cattle barn
Their faces make me long for home
somewhere –  
I am always longing
and never seem to be....

Anyway, I was looking for that suitcase
Found her dolls lying on it
and wondered when they got there
A day when I was working, no doubt

She must've looked at them
decided they were lost
in silly-sleep
beneath the basketball poster
beside the boom box
Sleeping with her childhood
in the cellar where....
_

Spring comes like a longing –  
for a moment
for a home

They were darling there –  
yellow romper, plaid sun-suit –

Same clothes as the day –

They, last saw her play....