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Snehith Kumbla Sep 2016
your hate my friend
rings more true
than your concern
ever did

lately your
devious
cunning and
withdrawn  

darkness
of desire
and lust
bursts

enveloping
you in
lurid
colours

gliding
away from
your tricksy
innards

mimicked,
withdrawn,
bulbous,
your guttered

hatred and
ignorance so
pronounced
nothing

could have
been more
stark
but this

clear, dire,
directed
detest
my friend
For a friend and the day that he lost himself.
Snehith Kumbla Sep 2016
while you were sleeping,
stars stepped out to dance,
trees whistled a tune with the wind,

river shimmered a firefly glow,
sheet of grass blades spread cool,
street mongrels howled a love ballad,

cat clawed a tune on the guitar,
the late Ravi Shankar plucked
divine on his ghostly sitar...

while you were sleeping,
world made a blanket of clouds,
crown of a dozen sunflowers

ii

while you were sleeping
I delved out of this dream
and finally opened my eyes,

saw illusions on angel wings,
mermaids celestially sing of
beauty's imprisoning knots,

dazed world of impossibilities,
eternal bewitchment, disparities,
all afire in new unbiased light,

it is the puzzle that binds you,
not its swab drab culmination,
a loop threading in forever land,

iii

while you were sleeping
I fled the valley, the valley
of hatred, fear, the blind,

while you were sleeping
while you were sleeping
while you were sleeping
Snehith Kumbla Sep 2016
the first time I ran,
mother says,
was because I didn't
want to be held on to,

so I broke all grasps
and fled as children
do and not remember
afterwards,

why

the last time I ran
was yesterday,
cajoling myself
to alarm beeps,

like a break in habit,
slow, tired and then
in rhythm, but not like
a first time, or a last,

tedium

did joy
pass by?
the running gods
didn't reply.
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