May I splinter away from myself
break into whole units
and
live in each with perfection!

This ME
made whole by
combining countless fragments
could not live in any one part
with complete ease.

May I show a true model
of deconstruction to Derrida
by taking off parts that make up my being!

So that I would see
one man fallen off me
shambling down the street,
and continue to speak in assemblies
with full ignorance of the subject,
continue to review the news of the world
by stuffing them in his brain
and go yapping in the crowds
fully content in the perfection of
his inferior sphere.

The other one
brooding over the ledger books
and the personal files
of the employees.

May the next one always keep reading,
the other looking after children
and still another swimming
in love all his life.

May the other fragment – the ‘me’ whom I don’t like
remain shut somewhere in the room.

May one other splinter engage
in inner decoration of the house
and meet the hunger of needs.
If he cannot do so
may he fragment himself further
into contractors
supplying vegetables, miscellanies,
clothes, and fuels
and sorting out other mess.

May one other part
forgetting that he is my splinter
continue to clap on each stupid action
of his boss, shaking head, and
remain busy in his little puppet moves.

May the other take responsibility of
television, radio and newspapers.

May the other still stay repeating the news of
the relatives and acquaintances
fulfilling formalities of well-being
embroiling in the phatic-
where? what? how?
participating in all of ‘sixteen rituals’
and birthdays.

May the other one continue to repeat
the non-news of his immobility
and continue to go to places
where people gather,
and go doing something like that.

May I hold an assembly
of the proportional representation
of all my selves.
may I go out with the poet
by leaving all the others
in their chaotic meaningless arguments.

May my poet remain a poet
in its perfection
unattached to my domesticity
full of scarcities;
may he remain separate
from a job-savvy me
who has sold his self-respect.
may my poet disengage itself
from my being
swayed by my brain.

May I discard the outer cover of time
from the layers of poetry
by immersing the poet in its entirety
within me, and
dismantle geography’s barriers.
may I break the windows of consciousness,
break further the dilapidations of waking moments
and emerge into the bright world of dream.

May life remain enamored of its own charm
may the river of love always flow from its own lap
may my pain remain drunk singing its own love songs
and the dead body of agony remain asleep
resting its head on a pillow of flowers.

May I free myself from the labyrinth of knowledge
run away from the jungle of thoughts
and jump from the hill of illusion
into the mind’s speedy currents.
by stepping on this joint of time.
may I pack all inventions in burlaps
and hide them in corners of Einstein’s’ brains.

May I free myself from the ever-pressing chest
and enter the garden of imagination
by leisurely hiding brain on hill summits.

May I take off clothes covering shame at the border
leaving them hanging on dry trees of arrogance
and run by wearing the rays of the sun.

May I create plain fields by collecting clouds
and bedeck them with arching rainbows.

Playing ball of wind
reaching the other end of The Road Not Taken
may I call in Robert Frost by holding hands
and request Ginsberg to recite Howl
facing the world.

May I bet with Devkota sitting contentedly
by receiving his lord’s blessings
that you are a poet who has written epics
and win a bagful of stars.

May I exchange T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland
with the future of this earth like a lunatic’s dreams
and make one season of poetry farming
by tilling with the pen of desire.

Oh, this ME
made with so many fragments
could not make any achievements!

May I then splinter away
from myself
and live only with the poet.
०००००

you’re a spectacular
spectator. your eyes are my
gold.
attention is what I seek,
resounding the call of humanity,
of all sentience,
of the heart you read this with.

Here we sit at the table,
of our life,
of our home.

It is just you and me,
to say what we feel,
to grow.

I want you to listen,
to my words,
without judgment.

I want you to see my struggles,
without opinions,
without trying to fix them.

I want you to see my struggles,
motivating me,
without pushing me to resolve them.

I wish for you to trust me,
without burdening me,
without demands.

I wish for you to help me,
without deciding for me.

I wish for you to care for me,
to protect me,
without erasing me.

I wish for you to look at me,
without projections,
without fear.

I wish for you to love me,
without suffocating me,
without binding me.

I want you to protect me,
without lies,
but with a true heart.

I want you to hold me,
not out of possession,
not by taking responsibility for me.

I wish for you to walk beside me,
without invading,
without controlling.

I wish for you to accept me,
every dark part of me,
without trying to change it.

I want us to see our struggles,
with empathy,
with solidarity.

I want that after every battle,
there is no resentment,
but peace reigns instead.

I wish for you to tell me everything you feel,
even the things that trouble you.

I want you to know,
that everything I ask of you,
I can give in return.

I wish for you to know,
that you can always count on me.

I brought back a string of pearls
from the cemetery of vows.
It camouflaged a black dot;
size of the berry seeds.
I felt like a magnet to its deceiving hue.

As I move it over my wrist,
the dot sticks to my transparent veins.
Streams of blood absorbed the maleficent mellow,
furnishing me to be the new home.

I saw a grey love.
As rotten as a deserted carcass.
The hidden motive.
The rage of hunger.
Grey garnished it all.

I hesitated,
Took a step back.
The mossy green heart sparkled.
Nauseating me with the dark.

I had to rescue the promises.
Its yellow body.
Its broken limbs.

As I slithered into the grey,
It settled on me.
I smelled of blazing bricks,
waiting for the Fall.

The yellow evaporated;
steam settled on my unshielded eyes.
I didn’t hesitate.

It tingled.
It left.

And here I am growing with the mossy green heart.

how would you feel,
if your soul is blown away,
by the night air, the breeze,
into unknown places,
among unknown people.
while you'd be hoping for it to return,
feeling empty, the void in you so deep
and threatening.
that it penetrates your feelings,
that hand dry with the clothes now.

and you would wait for it come back,
to fly back to you, and make you feel,
yourself again.
but you know that it won't,
because you kept it caged for so long,
in the boundaries of guilt,
that it wants freedom now,
more than ever.
a life for itself,
out of your body, that kept it,
shimmering it's glow, diminishing it's existence,
for so long, it often forgot, it's light had existed.

Fear fed my focus
on the unsettling questions,
suggestions and thoughts
which seemed to run like a film
ever projecting // never ending.

Fear fueled and seared uncertainty
into my heart
and threatened my ability
to beat //
to breathe
correctly

Soon my lungs were collapsing
breath was decreasing
which began to impair
my vision
I then started losing and missing
the pitches of clear sounds

Which now clearly suggested
I was losing my hearing
I could no longer smell
the burning
the thirst and yearning

So tasteless and speechless I
bitterly reached out for something
near me
yet struggled to touch it for the anxiety was consuming

I found myself so
incapacitated with worry and fear
-for what it might unveil
so quickly in a sense,
I had lost all of my
senses which ultimately led me
down paths // peaks // planes // and valleys

These innate abilities were stripped // ripped from my grip
someone please find me //
before I lose everything and find
it all to be permanently
a part of me...