I could toss my cares over a rainbow
Let it hang there a while and dry out its sorry behind
As I squeeze some slices of brackish time to research the deliberate contours of your patience
Swerving its way past concealed match sticks
Bend at the so definite behest of none.


Slurring backwards
Tentative graphica
Huge baskets of winding fun
Sketchy image pencilled in, for now
Details come later in -------- a terminal
(hopefully)


Charcoal drawings offer the sweet sound of breaking cumulus and sudden wax of orange
come to life on a sullen bed of love apples
shapes are p-p-p-pulled to painstaking proportion
deep lines stippled drastic
dragged along on unwieldy wagon strokes
       Art never really tastes ink but celebrates ephemerae
yet trapping half understood and beautiful pictures
beneath mocking glass panels
smudged with such deep knowinggggg


You can do something to stop this **** blood impasse
beset more so with counterfeit decline
blind bull rage too ready and bloodthirsty acts bay
half crippled and on its knees, how your land cries
see the (over)spill of rightly invective remain unresolved
  

See the deprivation at the lake
all gall thirsty, yet none to drink
just a hapless event smarting  
On a downward cyclic turn
no more will sing voices when old gripes unheard
scream in the long, red lines bulleted across that holy floor  
albeit the wicked general holds the trussed up cards
he won’t bother scraping the dried salt of kin later
it grows ever more in sad mounds on the little green book
awaiting missing miracle


inflections of a restless mind
within the ***** creep
retorts from peerless craft forge  
entangled moans in briars and sundry
resort to savour within disyllabic silence
  
Can you but count the ways in which these coins of seeking do ****** across
an afflicted floor of red lines to an exculpated heart, un(cor)rected ?
Unprocessed miracles are items of constant bewonderment in duress living

Thinking there was nowhere left to go
With tears streaming down her sickly pale cheeks
The torn threads she will not sew
While much needed help she refuses to seek

She plucked each pedal with frigid fingers
Ingested the sweet scent with a nose much too pink
Yet the smell of unforgiving acetone still lingers
Further into loneliness she begins sink

As if she were being lured by an anchor
Down to the bottom for eternity
Now numb, the heavens will take her
And return her endangered sanity

They told me it was metal,
but I didn't believe a word.
But now I find it's iron
of the strongest, finest kind.
Ah! Here is my little bellows,
I think I'll melt it down.

I understand that what I did was a little unorthodox, to say the least.
But whenever I looked into your eyes and saw all the pain bottled inside
The only thing I would allow myself to do, day in and day out, was try and fill those eyes with happiness
And I did
It's too bad I no longer can
If I had it my way
I'd make you happy
Every day

He stares at you and the world turns hot and cold. He's the most intelligent idea you've ever come across. And it annoys you. Why should he get all the credit that your mind came up with? But you stare and you glare anyway. You couldn't keep your eyes away. "You having fun yet?" God, you hate him for saying that. You realize all of a sudden that the room you two are in is getting wider and wider. Except it's still only the two of you in your line of vision. Where is everyone else? His every move, every twitch of his fingers--though, really, he never looks nervous--is caught in your mind's eye, smothering you to the nether. You deny it all the time but you do enjoy him, even if all he does is **** you over and over again. You know that if you die five years later, without him by your side, it's still his grin that you'll see last. And you realize something for the first time since you got swept in stupidly: you are in dire need of a distraction. A distraction from him.



She's acting like a child. Unnecessarily and devilishly. Her pouting mouth hypothetically gets you to keel over and hold up a tray of her favorite things to create her a portal to happiness. How does she do that? And how did you become such a sucker for this girl? No, she couldn't be just a simple human girl. Not with those careful hands, those little movements they make that makes your heart sit inside your chest uncomfortably. She is a stunning graffiti, illegal yet familiar. She grabs you by the shoulders and throws you off-course. And you let her. She is the queen. She makes everything up, even new, unkind emotions you never thought a person could feel. Yet why is she still looking at someone else? You are right there. You are right with her. Yet you've gone unnoticed.

and i did not conquer
the demons
that live inside my head
or the devils
that walk with me
i loved them instead

so i became obsessed with
joining those
i adore as my own ghost
the ethereal
the deathly is what
i dream of the most

now i have grown into
beautiful fantasies
of blood and eternal sleep
the desire to die
to free myself is the
greatest secret i keep

i slowly doubt the efficacy
of living and
breathing as others do
my lovely shadows
my best friends
i am coming to join you

*© Tara India.