on the leg press machine
I consider the serious things
in my life.

can you imagine
God scattering stars
like marbles.

Ever since I was, Me,
This particular me

I was told;

I cried and whimpered-

I cried and Whimpered,
as I came out of womb,
still in wail, still in snivel,

I was staggered,
in utter astound, and amazement;
For absolutely no reason,

I Sniveled,
and sniveled that day,
into the madness I was in,
out of universe, into parallel whim,

I wondered,
I wondered:
Am I dead into my bones,
Where is the world, I have known,
The world, I have known for for 9 months-

or am I just a door, opened into storms,

May be it was for today, for few moments,
the Ill be gone !
Or, May be I was reincarnated into days,
of games leading to this game;
or was I just a foible,
dependent to layers,
of layers,
expanded into life's flare;

I was staggered,
in utter astound, and amazement;
For absolutely no reason,

I cried and whimpered,
as I came out of womb,
still in wail, still in snivel,

I was staggered,
in utter astound, and amazement;
For absolutely no reason,

Peace,
Peace,
Yes, Peace, all peace,

Love
Love,
Yes Love, all love,

Harmony,
Dear Harmony,
All Harmony,

Then again,

I jump down the lanes of memories,

She says,

Are you done trumping?
Aren't you late for working?
Aren't you late for life, this real life?

Then slowly,
I go mad,
By and by,
I am Mad,


into today and tomorrows,
anxious;
into emotions and fears;
.
Covered by joys and tears;
.
Eroded into feelings,
.
leading unto her being,
.
So,
it again becomes a helpless game,
where,
I cry and whimper

And there she is,
after all this while,
she seems to be in my dreams,
or in her dreams,
where she wail, and snivel !

Glued into her memories,
her eyes, to mine,
distant aero-plane into her abstain,

not much of caring,
yet, in her cosmic sharing;

repairing myself, into her un-caring,
tunneling a way, into sharing;

that love, that peace
that harmony;

Mommy,
in her tummy, had her, as baby, where a cell grew into body;
in some hide and seek, in melancholy

a bit sloppy, a bit swampy;

into dancing infinity,
along, my pace in her infinity-
my safari, in her serenity;

like some birds, singing songs,
of wordless hums,
just some gongs,
in shores, in her floor,

a flower out of spores,
her songs,
silent applause,
of this bird, who explores,
into the space-less, horizons

that thunderbolts,
**B O O M

its coincidental that we are reading The Scarlet Letter in class
it goes hand and hand with my regrets
a constant reminder.

rather than eating away at me
the guilt grows inside of me
except it lasts more than nine months.

similar to Chillingworth my soul is "lonely and chill"
i've tossed aside every good thing
like a scratched record or old worn-down novels.

there's a strange illusion between who i am and who i appear to be
like my favorite halloween costume
except there are no treats only tricks.

i'd be Hester Prynne's best friend
we could relate and count our flaws like astronomers count the stars
we'd compare who is worse
us or satan.

she wears her "A" i wear my smile
but we both wear shame as well as we wear our favorite dress
every lie threaded together to form the perfect sin
the same gown we wear on our deathbed.

the secrets flow within my veins
sometimes i wonder where all my blood has gone
it dropped to my feet making them deadweights
except the only weight is the consequences on my shoulders.

guilt.

In October you
made me soup
after I said I
hated you.

my heart
toils at
night.

Because despite
everything love
is resolute.