Greyblue overwhelms my eyes
as fog and cloud covers the sand
Stretching beside me
I step forth, leaving family behind
Lost in wonder.
Salt intoxicates, tempts my nostrils
Enticing my feet forward
The coarse sand grows soft
As it greets the water,
Melting at its touch
- my toes relish the taste-
Natural
Water rushing around me
Below me
Through me
Rising as I willingly sink in
The endless ocean hypnotizing me
Like the sirens it holds, singing to
The voyager within
A voice, now not so sweet
Stern, concerned, worried,
-motherly-
Calling me back, forming
Crossroads to my young mind
Amphibious
A tadpole
Drawn between reality and - safety?
Pulled back
The sand chafes my skin
As I walk back to the world I know so well,
And the future that remains a stranger.

“I touch their cardboard faces”
That voice, a heavy voice
(a mother-sister voice)
Telling me to find meaning in faces
I cannot see
I cannot experience.
Yet, imagination runs wild
In circumstances thus.
I see memories of faces
That once I knew,
Once I experienced,
But that now have become motionless, processed,
Stills of a memory
That will never be real.

Eyes dripping blue
What loaded words!
Tears forming pools in which
Hard-handed men examine their own
Namelessness.
Their place in this world
Is drowning amid the waters
Of a well-wrung soul.
That name, that identifier
Will never capture her.

Eyes, lipid pools of starlight
Mixed with the blue grey of a dolphin’s back
Swimming in the storm of her irises
Those flowers that bloom
In the milky white of tainted purity
which hold a black hole in their round chests
Swallowing soul and spirit indistinguishable

A tumultuous existence
The malady of my soul
She smiles, her moist lips
Ready to strike you down
With viper’s wine

And I? I look on, pierced through the stomach
As the blood starts seeping out
Demonstrating her victory, and my loss.
That notorious ****
Even now caressing your eyes
And stealing your tongue

And I? I find myself fleeing once again
Flying from my own tomb
That wears your gravestone.

Call forth a eulogy
Her name is dead.

Heaviness draws its quilted blanket
Over my dreary eyes
Fire that does not burn, a need
Consumes my chest, my head, my thighs
As the sigh within my breast brings out a darker note -
A note that serves as the anchor to my night-ballad.
Like a huge bell it rings
Slow and steady as the wind sighs its harmony
And my soul tries to sing along.
A slow steady march of a determined sleep.

…

Conscious again
Smolder’d remains
Growing pains
Slowly rise
Moans escape
Warmth away

Cold sensations
Reach the floor
Still weary
Light reaches eyes


Squint


It’s morning.

I placed my hand
Into the pool of my discontent

I pulled it out
Your eyes staring into mine
unyielding, unsearchable

I shook it away
The memory of your stare bores into me
impenetrable, invulnerable

*It annoys me to death.

Nay, let
It not be said that this
Confounding day is ours - give it to another.
Only let the seeker, the brave-heart search- yet this
Lady has found it long before.
Evermore shall she sweat, the
Beat of the drum in her chest and feet,
Adamant in making her move. And so, with
Kites flying in her soul, free spirited,
Everlasting she will dance in heaven’s courts
Ready to face the mystery beyond.