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Into sky
Synthetic sky
Into cloudless recesses of
Artificial sun

Help me lift it up

Tubercular layers
And acetylene light
Below I sleep in a spiderweb
Where scavenger's reign

By design
Delicate
Intricate
Singularity
Worn for a vow
Worn as a shroud
Our night is falling

I come and stand
At every door
Next to manufactured girls

Hoping to lift you up

The ghosts they draw
On my back
Want no light to shine

And so I must
Leave it behind
For the man coming after me
The choice to choose the complexity of truth forever difficult different from the rest
sure it tests
in nature, it is natural for the rivers to flow,
trees to grow, as naturally as they can
  how do you plant a melon seed and wish for an apple to grow
no two fruits can taste same but they come from a family of greens, part of the earth
so are we, different in our ways as we naturally grow
how does it change the truth
hard as it may sound the truth can find its way up wherever it plants and grows roots, albeit,
if the humankind allows
Where there is a flow a natural progression of what is, no cutting down, distortion or clipping in parts, as it changes the whole
it makes sense as is
to the end
And there can be one
Some thoughts which found their way to words
~
Ladies-in-waiting
reflecting on
a fragile state of mind

precarious creatures, these
hunters of coal
that outlines both
eyes and words

black paint for blue girls,
they pray in a circle
for their queen's wedding night
to be one of celebratory rapture

deep into the looking glass
they peer for a sign,
a soul, a stigma,
but cannot see
beyond their own glib faces

a universe ago they
caparisoned as pixies
in sunflower corsets,
twirling in a centrifugal forest

tonight in eclipse,
in their all-together,
they merely wear masks
of their former selves

the firelight dramatically shifts
in bacchanalia pratfall
--the oblong menace
of their smiles, fingers and navels
dancing to the age of Sideria

~
Unburdened by the past
Heralding the future
A blend of ancient and the modern
History swirls
Rock solid walls
A fortress to beckon
A hint of glitter
Glamour and gold
Glimpses of the old
Refurbished  and restored
Manicured gardens
Perfect leaves
And trees
Branches bow down in rows
Bound by boundaries
Through centuries
The fort
Open to the commoners
The royals once owned
On the bike the rider is a blazing glory
winds to him whisper hair raising story
whizz past houses, trees, and towns
wheels giggle joyous with the ups and downs.

Girls on the sidewalks look up in awe
as the speed streaks on the wrong side of law
the copper burnt hands grip the baby tight
to ride away from dark and into the light.

Through the flash of clouds, torrents of rains
sun on the mountain, sunset's pink stains
piercing the wind, cutting across rainbow
steams the metal man, in seamless flow.

Days nights roll, beneath the grey arch
on an intense pursuit, one frantic search
he looks for a place where a loving hand
will open the door to the God's resting land.
Cold on the outside
Tending the hurt
Tender inside
There’s always that one
Who wants to be out
But can’t
The fear of
The glass
That cuts
Is transparent
But hurts
The classroom window had a clear view of the park
and when the July clouds painted the sky dark
the boy would start to cry!

Why, the teacher exclaimed, why these tears
it's all so pleasant, and there's nothing to fear
the rain is so welcome, it does only good
so why boy it finds you in such bitter mood!

Saying thus, he would walk back to his table
by the rain upon windowpane, I was inconsolable
brisker than rain were the tears in my eyes
in the thought there would be flood, water would rise
the walk back home would be a herculean feat
with the street flooded, hidden manholes beneath
I was haunted by the spectre of how the water rose
crawled past my chest, and reached up the nose
the swelling river would find me an easy victim
the teacher didn't know, I didn't know how to swim!

When the school bell finally rang, they ran joyous in the rain
splashing and soaking merrily, their way was heaven
only I stayed back, as if my feet had grown roots
late evening I reached home, in heavy sodden boots.
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