"murkier" poems
I climbed the dark heaven to meet myself alone..
To smell all the roses and espy the stone..
Nevertheless, the cloud was frozen and the breeze was calm..
I saw her descending and coinciding with my palm..
Her plain white vesture was contrasting my red..
She was diffusing the divinity that I could not even bled..
Our faces were same but our aces were inverse..
She owned one whole entity while I was a disperse..
The moment was priceless and so were my emotions..
It was indeed the most breathtaking phase to my notions..
My other twin was bounded with a definite time span..
She was entirely a woman with the heart of a man..
*"You don't live inside me, I have never sensed you inside,
Painted with shyness, you rather live like a bride*.."
I peeled up my heart and had the eagerness to know..
If the sun lives in me, then why do I fall like the snow..
She smiled and glared down on me with the rays of her starkness
and told me how sturdily I have been lidded under the darkness..
Holding the flowers, she stands in the island of my soul..
She ponders my echo and waits for the control..
She imparts her colors when my pallet runs out..
but puts on her cloak when my demon comes out..
Surprisingly, I asked "You are my part. Why don't you fight out..!?"
She had an answer. She works eternally from the hideout..
In the midst of the stirring stillness, she reminded that I had to leave..
Ironically, I could not crave for what I had been dying to receive..
The same ladder showed up and slanted me back to my nook..
and the wind narrating slowly what I had given while what I had took..
*I returned to my place which was as murkier as ever..
I sensed the time-It was cursive and clever..
Perhaps I will reap more strength to deflect the chirping into the roar...
to mend every single lapse and bring her back someday on my door*..
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 2:15 PM UTC
Mickey was a murderer
Malevolent and heartless
Likely killed a courier
Tempted by his progress
Made to feel inferior
Delivering the knowledge
His emptied eyed exterior
Empowering the bosses
Always had an an opened ear
Could reinact the process
Always tried to keep it clear
He filtered out the nonsense
Always had a deagle near
Mickeys thoughts were loss less
Always ordered steak and beer
As he slithered from the charges
Always knew the ends as cure
But begginings were the hardest
The waters ever murkier
And fogging up his goggles
Never feared what's lurking there
The details were his doctorate
He knew who was what
And what was where
The devils were his hostages
Only hostile to his care
As he spelled it out with markers
Only rich to others fare
He was cleaning out their closets
As only those who know who dared
Know how they finally lost him
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 9:09 PM UTC
A resounding response to the crack below my feet was heard through the forest
The ice had broken under the weight of my foot
And I froze holding myself still as I stared at the wood
Wondering, "Where did that come from?" whispering
"Not an echo! there must be something within the trees
A light breeze could not displease the silence of that looming dark!"
I approached the trees, each a veil, bark by bark, forming
A shade to intimidate the night, lining the freedom of that frozen lake
With fear to cut through any heart, as I approach the trees
The edge, waiting for me, towering grim, counting the steps
Accusing, suspecting of my intent, and I fearing what will come
I draw towards the end, and it paints my heart a deeper black,
"Every end a means!" they say, their leaves a darker hue, all a shade,
The sky only murkier, blot fainted stars bleeding to shine on my icier day
Cold, my fingers, scared, my feet, moving forward, they ask for more
More! for passion! for the call! the trees, in unison, they call!
Quiet, they crack through the Winternight, claiming
"Yes! still alive!"
Finally! my foot strikes the lucid gray snow! and I meet my end
But, "Every means an end!" and the life that colors around me
reflects the sun,
bright and vivid,
a shining presence
encompassing my own
And, as the world of the human mind's intent frenzies, no relent,
still, to see the bird
teaching her next
to swirl through the air
is to see the gem amongst us
I have met my end, my journey is done,
I die here now, but I have seen the world,
I have taken it my own, and it has killed me
"Was it worth it?" I ask the trees, now silent somber black around.
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 7:41 AM UTC
A thousand untamed words will unleash the other thousand too ,
from the memoirs ,
caged in a rust full of room ::
I will throw a pebble of darkness
into the chasm of stagnation .
Then the ripples of cold will feel,
lacerating my skin from under,
as if someone
scratching the pith of my soul frenziedly .
The denseness of blood
murkier than darkness
oozing of out my arteries
while the fallen angel
~LUCIFER~
sitting on his throne ,
ardently longing me ,
TO
TAKE
ME
BY
HIS
SIDE .
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 4:21 PM UTC
Anxious, fears flitting in and out, through my head and back again
feeling like I know what it is to stand for the verdict
to live the last few hours on Death Row
And it is only a job, a silly job, a source of income
but this feeling, the same as I had last year when I lost
part of what made the job interesting
but this feeling that I have that I am so often dead on correct about
an intuition that pierces me and sets me on edge
and so often comes true
Maybe I would give up this intelligence, this ability to foresee for a little peace of mind
But no, there can never be too much you know, too much you can see
the water can never be too clear, the view never too deep
Bright white plates are placed at the bottom of Lake Tahoe
to measure the clarity of the water
which is now murkier than in Mark Twain's day
so the plates must be put closer to the surface
and I don't want that
to lose that purity of sensitivity
I only want to be able to know and not fear
So keep the plates where they are
the water remains pure and it has to
You are going to fire me I am nearly sure
I don't deserve it, but I didn't deserve to lose what I lost last year
when I had the same feeling
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 11:22 PM UTC
I was never the guy everybody went to when they saw something
I was never the guy who got all the girls and went to parties
But I stood on the pavement as the cars drove by
You never spoke to people who barely knew your name
And you always said that life is a chessboard you play
But the only way to win is to give way and try
Never got a call from her
Never got any numbers
People whispered when they walked by
I was left alone in the library
Bullies searching for a new bait
And I was easy to find, by my gait
Oh you can try to be a fancy guy
Who wears those flashy things
You can call me a loser
If you really want to
Coz I can take the punch
Of a thousand fists
And I can still stand tall as a tree
You never see the way before you come nearer
The water's cold and it's getting murkier
Wanting me to leave this place
YeH I might listen to Taylor on replay everyday
And you might hate what I talk about today
But don't bet on my leaving today
This world I live in feels like it's cursed
Every child here's another word
For carelessness and hopelessness
Time that I have turns faster than it can
And the gold that I hold melts in my hands
But the mystery and cherishing
Makes me think back to when
Everything I knew was like the world before
But now, it's just a system of corruption
Ruling our lands, the places we took control of
All of our blood spilled like falling rain, all over the place
And the worth of each drop of sweat is just like the grain of sand
And this life makes me feel like a loser
But I don't care anymore
These people make me wanna cry in the bathroom
But I don't care anymore
So if I chose to listen to their useless words
Would I ever care for...
It
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 5:42 PM UTC
I recall counting the
crooked lines that ran the length of your palm,
noting how each and every one
ran on and on and on
before petering out into crosshatch
and creases.
Remember when I came to yours,
that first time?
We watched an inconsequential film,
made inconsequential small talk
as we lay on that
rough-lined sofa of yours.
I stared into your bright-blue eyes
as you glanced up at mine
(murkier, sea-floor brown tinged with green -
“Harry”, you called me, jokingly)
and we kissed
because at the time
it seemed of consequence.
Later, we petered out somewhat
(creased and crosshatched as we were),
but even now,
as I trace the lines of my palm,
I can’t help but feel that
something that day
was of consequence.
Feb 18, 2012
Feb 18, 2012 at 4:57 PM UTC
I wait in the sunset garden as planet grows
it's auburn scarf.
s
u
d
d
e
n
l
y
I hear
heart monitors slowing
down.
Everything receding.
People come home from universities tapping their feet
to tenor conclaves, palms
rubbed together for a spark
because clouds have become
air condition systems.
Layers are now a necessity.
Soft sheets glow to those enlisting
in another year of the continental war.
We ENTER A TIME OF WAITING
the moon is murkier and light thickens like
EPHEMERAL AUTUMN VAPOR.
Masayoshi Fujita makes Victoria
seem more methodical at night.
(the one man xylophone orchestra)
There's non conventional furniture everywhere!
(Candle in a fishbowl)
But isn't that us all?
especially this time of year?
wax
to
water.
Comfort is rooftops under
HEAVYRAIN.
Spurs of ((isolation)) can be therapeutic.
On another note,
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND CHILDREN OF ALL AGES"
Think hard on that, just think is all I ask.
As a poet, I am blind in the same way you are not.
Accordions are the instrument of the universe.
I'm personally a fan of elevator
m
u
s
i
c
TOKYO seems an appealing place to visit
as any.
I crave a certain spontaneity, an abruptness
S L O W L Y.....................
soaking
thru those leaves
who's moment has come
to pass.
Alarm clocks fizzle
where the weary lay,
letting their hair go it's own way
(to enter a new era where sunglasses serve no purpose)
......I'll wait for that time, like a true Buddhist that holds his
patience in front of him.
A daisy wilting into gold.
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 4:01 AM UTC
Far, far away
Deep in the woods
Filled with thick trees and tall grass
Lived a man named ‘Saga’
Short and stout
Noisy and loud
He lived alone
Screaming at the air, talking to the rain
Saga lived in a cave
Posing to be brave But, afraid of the loneliness How naïve!
Living in the wild
Far away from his tribe
Alone through the woods he steered
Saga was afeard
He missed his wife
His old, happy life
And cursed the dusk
When he lost his way, following the musk
He cursed his daughter, Hilde
Deeming her the reason he was lost in wild ‘Why did you have to be so obstinate?’
‘Spoilt as hell, brat, ****** arrogant”
Mumbling under his breath
He was lost in his wrath
Crossing the same eerie desire trail
With misty fog and traces of hail
“What a horrifying path to take
Death be waiting for all treading this way”
Shivering and afeard
He walked rapidly till that path disappeared
Days passed and nights went by
He lay on the grass
Watching the drifting sky
Change its color from blue to brass
The trees rustled and wind blew
As the storm brewed
Sky thundered, rivers creaked
Saga listened to the forest screak.
“Hellish! I am lost in these labyrinthine woods
With cimmerian paths and Styngian brooks”
He started towards his aphotic cave
“Someone come for me and save!”
The forest grew murkier and dark Deafening sounds of storm, hark!
A whip just cracked
Echoing the sound of a thousand claps.
Saga fastened his pace
In terror and haste
Mud laved his feet
As if mocking Saga’s hysterical retreat.
“Oh! Get out of my way you muck”
As he fell on his face – Shmck!
Thud! flumb! squelch! splosh! deign!
He flushed through the water of rain.
For hours he struggled against the gush
Louder and louder grew brus
With each passing minute, the storm soared
The forest rumbled and sky roared.
Saga brawled and bawled
As if trying to silence the stormy howl.
Alas! all his attempts failed
Unconscious soon, he sailed
Where to? He would never know
For the forest had already beseeched his breath
Saga swam through the wild flow
Into the comfortable arms of Death.
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 6:59 AM UTC
Ten.
I love you.
We fit so well together
And you are the lost puzzle piece
That I didn't know was missing.
We are effortless
And beautiful
Because you love me, too
And every time you say it
The words fall into my mouth
And I savor the taste
And the way they rattle behind my lips.
Nine.
We bicker sometimes.
You don't like the pasta I make
And I don't like how late you work.
But you whisper sweet nothings to me
While I clean the dishes.
Then you pull me against you
In our room
When the dishes are done
And I liquefy
Like ice in hot coffee.
And we'll be okay.
Eight.
I stayed up for you.
You didn't come home
At five like you always do.
There's food in the fridge
And my trust in the doorstep
Where you wipe your shoes
At two a.m.
You go to bed.
I follow behind
Not asking questions,
Not wanting to know.
Seven.
I haven't talked about it.
You haven't talked about it.
We don't talk anymore.
Six.
Where do you go? I say.
What do you mean? You say.
When you're not here.
Work, you say.
I know that's not it, I say. Please don't lie to me anymore.
But you tell me you don't want to talk about it.
You storm off to bed
And I melt against
The cold linoleum
Like I once did
In your arms.
Five.
I haven't looked in your eyes
Since that night
When the dusty kitchen floor
Held me closer
Than you have in months.
My tears did nothing
To wash away the fear
That the liqueur didn't.
Four.
I ask if it's another man.
You don't reply at first
And then deny.
But I know.
I've known.
I ask who it is.
Can you at least tell me that? I say.
Your silence fills the room
Like a cup overflowing
With water
Or something murkier.
You say it so quietly,
A woman from work,
And I nod,
Blinking through the salty licks of tears.
How could I possibly have any left?
You don't say you're sorry.
Three.
You pack up your things.
She comes by to pick them up.
You look right through me and say you've fallen in love.
I say nothing
Because I haven't yet fallen out of it.
Two.
My bed is cold.
My mornings are quiet.
I'm no longer cooking for two.
There is no one to come home to
Or to come home to me.
I sit alone by the window
Not even
One with the stars.
I feel hollow.
One.
I see you
Around town sometimes.
With her
And a red-faced baby boy
Who looks just like you do.
I love you.
And I don't think I'll ever stop.
Zero.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 2:08 PM UTC
The wind chill in March
was at its *** end,
the sun in the east
half lit the murkier sky
of that morning
the cloudy patterns
seen through brittle and brown
branches
of the maple trees,
surrounded
a weird silence of forlorn.
the birds left
their broken nests,
flew away to the far end,
paralleling man's flying machine.
It was a scenic beauty,
blended with
technology and ecology.
Yet, the nature's creation
competed with man’s,
a bird from the flock,
plunged down
ablaze, ripped apart
plaintively,
with a sound.
Narinder
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 8:04 PM UTC
MOTECUHZOMA
Our priests have proven green and tenderfoot
By goggling at our late, ill auguries:
Dumbfounded, counselless, they scan their toes.
For this have I agreed to pawn my pride
In dabbling with questionable cures
By calling forth the aid of sorcerers.
PRIEST OF TLALOC
Dread lord, how might your grace with confidence
Place mercenary warlocks in your trust,
Who twist their gifts toward late-night banditry,
It’s said, to paralyze their shaky preys.
Tezcatlipoca, our capricious master,
Might cloud our muddy minds yet murkier
For slumping to such dubious helps as these
If they make mock of his peculiar knowings.
TLACAELEL
Don’t worry. If they cool your fevered fears
We’ll hail their hocus-pocus as white physic.
If not, then as black fiends in iron they’ll rot.
MOTECUHZOMA
Bring in these esoteric ministers.
A guard leads in three Sorcerers
You three obscure and dicing conjurers:
Have you beheld grim omens in the clouds,
Or prodigies upon the earth? You three,
Who fathom ‘neath earth’s black and gem-jammed caverns
To skim atop cold pools of stone-blind fish
And witness those who have not winked at day;
Who sink into the water’s murky deeps,
And loiter drowsily among the weeds,
Mustering fronds and nightshades for your charms.
PRIEST OF TLALOC
Have you encountered stray and mongreled men?
Or lightless nooks congeal as dead men’s shades?
Or midnight women, crablike, creep in broods?
Shall we be leveled flat by strange disease,
Or locusts, pirating their greedy shares?
From sudden deaths, from wars or wild beasts?
Shall rainstorms sink our rooftops down to jetties,
And Tlaloc drown us in a tide of bounty,
Or broil us in cruel sabbatical?
MOTECUHZOMA
You must not candy up **** truth for me.
Have you not heard our thirsting goddess cry,
And nightly croaking from the earth’s deep faults?
Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 12:37 PM UTC
Why must you wait for me
To rise above this endless fog
You wear the word martyr
like a bejeweled badge
Awaiting your ticket tape parade
I would gladly hide in my labyrinth
A careful construct of limitless emptiness
Illuminated by the new moon
I stumble through and through
Hoping for a quick exit over the cliff
But as usual, I’m sure footed
There is no room for you to wait
The fog is growing ever murkier
Although destitute of happiness
I can feel its presence forever in a memory
This is one thing that can be called hope
So there; some promising words to cling to
And know that I am not hopeless
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 5:01 PM UTC
And as the skies turn murkier
Ballads
from the eighties
flow from a distant land
And for a moment
It reminds me of you
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 8:02 AM UTC
so this is it
jumped ship
or whatever it's being called
these days
I feel myself
falling
Alice like
into a murkier space
than before
where the silence
gnaws at my brain
splinter of a twinkle
heavens above
quite obvious
what's happening
ignorance that flares up
like a blanket of acne
an excuse that drips
quick from the fingers
your game is peeling
from every corner
and rolling the dice
ain't as easy
as I found it
when you spoke
with an actual voice
Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 6:43 PM UTC
it's not even that deep poetic black inside me anymore
it's just murky brown
i've been trudging through a swamp of feelings
none of them good
and now my heart is murkier than the water
i've been walking through for so long
Dec 21, 2021
Dec 21, 2021 at 6:56 PM UTC