#animate
Life not lived
in still stance
glued to my tree like altar
dreaming of what could of been
roaming the Serengeti scorched trails
my flesh beating
jungle drums blaring
head high in a roof of galant green
alas the realness of reality revertebrates into my cold expanse
I am but a statue of beauty crafted
hands of my maker smooth but firm
as they caressed my curves
connected in that memorable moment
standing still in ticking time
ever eternal
state static
Aug 12, 2020
Aug 12, 2020 at 2:06 PM UTC
I am nothing
more than a reflection
that has animated itself over the water’s surface
But the picture is so much clearer
Nov 29, 2018
Nov 29, 2018 at 10:54 AM UTC
Who will talk now with common man gesture?
Who will give message now about humour and giggle of life?
Who will play the character now which can rejuvenate farmer’s dream?
We miss you,
In all occasion of acuity to animate!
But we will carry your message of humour and giggle of life
To invigorate and survive,
Lead towards simplicity and acuity!
Hope you will be there in golden paddy field,
In the blue river,
In green mountain
To remind us
About humour and simplicity of life!
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 12:13 PM UTC
Like a beggar feeling for gold in the dark
I mosey in the shadows searching for the scent of bliss
Blind to everything but my own thought
I skirt the edge of light and dark
A stuttering heartbeat
I rest upon a sturdy form and begin to flutter
Slowly
I come away from my stupor and tilt my head
Upward
Illuminated by a golden sphere
A moth grasping at God
Gripped in the glow I am light
Reflecting unto faded stars
We
Inanimate forms buzzing along to the
Dull hum of the universe.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 5:05 AM UTC
A story from my past about a doll who had bones...
For her snaky body crackled with calcium
The weight of flesh ***** and ragged in pauses
Llithe light heavy her arms skinny and stout
Ready to enmesh anyone that came her way
Once it was Blue Beard and then some Santa Clauses
Of rustling coats sitting well on alien atoms
Polestars of the dark moulded to suit her thunder
Until it was turn for human ******* that her fears danced
In mad forms not unlike hers no doubt
She saw them heard them wished them out
She sought eyes for beads to end the trance
For there was comfort in plastic and forever it could last
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 3:20 AM UTC