I don't know the rules. If I go looking
for grace and find it, what will grace
be but penance for my past, a silver
sinew-thread wrapping 'round old
wrongs, gray hair for the
I've naught but want for sweet release
from this history. The bombs ignored,
repeating in gramophone static
as wet bamboo. I remember someone
once sang here, once strung together
chords so sweet they rang like peace-
bells beneath cloudless sky. They've
rang the bell upon my jaw and
done no wrong.
It's not so much unlike one's curiously
cold reception at a funeral. The cold
and rain ****** at the skin
during graveside hymnal.
As long as the earth continues
its stony breathing I will breathe.
That which I cannot help but do.
Stuck between boulders, I sing.
When it stops, I will shatter back
into gravity. Into quartz.
"Rimrock" is a poem from Kaveh Akbar's 2017 collection "Calling a Wolf a Wolf." Akbar's lines are in standard type; my lines are in italics.
The great Mughal emperor of 16th century,
He died of multiple ***** failure,
Comprising of the heart as well as others.
They say that he loose motioned his way to death,
Then the ancient emperor had got a heart seizure.
Dysentery had made the dying emperor weaker.
So yes, dying in old age can be a smelly affair.
My HP Poem #1119
It was in the Mughal period
That a combined bathroom,
Shower & toilet put together,
Were called a Ghusl Khana.
Inside it proceeded many stuff,
Literally meaning cleansing,
Of both the body and soul.
Sat the emperor inside,
Busy in cleaning his body,
And his soul too with water,
And with the warmth of it,
He tried cleansing his soul,
After administrating the empire,
And being engaged in battles.
The battles of truth,
The battles of trust,
The battles of faith.
My HP Poem #993
why do you have to be so rough?
Why do you have to be whispering in my ear
that will only lead others to a tear.
Why do you have to be in my head?
that will only leave others dead..
"JUST DO IT"
He said, one last time
as I pushed the button that would only lead to destruction.
I said, as I would have a snackbar with the dead.
— The End —