Whirlpool of whirling quaint
Inequality brewing in the
Winepress of smithereens
Fragile polity.
Voices of weariness cried
Out from the wasteyard of
Waste for succour,
Pointing fingers of
Recrimination towards
The abyss of drouth ,
Entangled in conflicts
Of interest.

Winds of improvised emblem
Bearing hunchback of
Woes,
Raising hands from the
Drowning deep sea
For rescue like
A dejected beautiful
Vigaro in a
Turbulent ocean of quarrel
With her spouse.

Whereas reddish fluids of life
Runs across the same veins
And arteries of haves
And haves-not but
Cottage of interests
Hoisting avalanche of
Rainbow-coloured flags
Standing aloof on the
Pole of misrule,
Demarcating their interests.

No accommodation for wants
In the corridor of affluence.
Wants on a trade mission
With wealthy but caged in
The confinement of wealth.

Winds of inequality blew
Whirler of wants into
The marrow of the
Haves-not.
Rains of inequality passing
Through a lockage of lack
Into the improvised,
Doling-out poverty to
Gain the control of
Wealth.

Alas! Blindness sees inner
Vision of darkness from
The households of political
      lamia.
Alas! Deafness hears
Discordant vague voices
Of failure from the forest
      of frustration.
Alas! Dumbness speaks
Language of gnomes out
Of the vale of forgotten
      treasures.
Alas! A four year tenancy
      turning into decades
      of challenges.

But we shall revive our hope
      and raise our voices
            tomorrow.

In every human
in the caves within
sharing the space,
wearing darkness
or light as dress
live two tenets*
holding(more or less)
joint tenancy rights
named Inhuman
and Divine

Now a question
to ponder at leisure
Have you ever noticed
one or the other,
moving in or out?

Quite admirable , awe-inspiring , a divine piece of manufacture
It’s capriciousness is an equivalent of swooning of rapture

This carpet conveys itself as flawless , the fragrance is pleasant

The glossy finish generates a yearning to have it present

The blissful texture is mesmerizing , subject to perfect knitting

Not to mention it’s size is perfectly fitting

~

Though the alternative side seems worn and tattered

And the fabric surrounding is scattered

There are pockets and splits

There are strewed fiber bits

Along the edges are multicolored spots

And the yarn had formed knots

~

At that point the onlooker would become flustered helplessly

Were they to take it into their tenancy ?

Sure it was depleted

And maybe it was slightly untreated

Though it was equally handsome

Despite it’s opposing filthy expansion


~


Then the beholder would ponder a tad

And realize the flaws weren't so bad

They were to be contemplated abnormally

Though as well stood out morbidly

The allotment seemed now suitable

And each side was mutable

It's cold out there
the ice hangs blue in
the evening air and the
night
drips slow,
congealing, a
feeling
I know well.

Solidifying,
not even trying and
inside,outside,
I'm dying.

Ice cold out there,
ice cold in here,
tears freeze as they fall,
icicles on the wailing wall.

mumbles, jumbles, into the night
my baby phoenix stumbles into its plight
a better life was merely imagined
but my dove, my dear, bitterly determined

huddled witnesses
there! in the square
a drove of fireflies, watching
her rebirth in fire, laid bare.

her tuckered tail, dead-centered --
shaking off crimson pearls of lunar lunacy,
henceforth, bleeding on her own time, her own tenancy.

her talons look at us.
we look at fiery lips that lash and scorch her.
never more before his penetrating gaze,
as her wings form a column of blaze.

she soars, she screams:
but to nothing but scorn --
the square-goers think she is just forlorn.  

my dove, my dear, for your ****** death --
I pray it greets not a dragon's breath.

Have you ever wanted to sit in silence
Absolute silence
Stare into nothing, meld with the world

Have you ever questioned your pennant
Your heart's tenant
And count the swine from your pearls

Have you ever wanted to reach out
Learn what they're about
Shoulder to shoulder, analyze

Have you ever wanted to try
While the rest of the universe dies
Count on one soul, epitomize

Well, maybe we think we know the answers
Or maybe we haven't the slightest
But the darkest hour is always near
And always following is the brightest
Some take their pleasure in the form of sin
And some with a grain of salt
Some take their pleasure from the damage within
Some would never know when they're missing out

I never begged for mercy
At least up until this point
And I would never say it outright
But I want out of this joint
In the worst way, my surroundings need to burn
And perhaps then, this town would thrive
For honor is merely a lesson learned

When the odds are against you to survive

I wish to shine.

ohhh Soul raptured and captured
Fractured in moments of reciprocity
An outward doubt of censorship
Widening smiles of spoken misfortune

A tear, a mend, the exposed laughter
Tributes of adventure rouse the sheep
Rumoured lines of defensive solutions
Evolution with a tenancy of dissolution

Hearts of hearts, a distanced resolution
Insulated in clenched stimulant jokes
Introverted cells taking a pick of self
The ***, a sect, to solve and save the rest

There is a reckless tenancy to leave the door of my life wide open "come in come in its cold out there" I realize I've only welcomed the cold in.