"twoness" poems
1. To be one with my beloved was not my destiny.
Had I continued living longer, it'd have been the same waiting!
2. I lived on your promise, thus-beloved, I knew it to be false.
For would not have I died of happiness, in case- I had faith!
3. Your delicacy made me understood that you have made a loose pledge.
You could have never broken it, had it been firm!
4. O’ someone should ask my heart about your half-drawn arrow.
Where would this pricking have arisen from, had it pierced the liver!
5. What kind of friendship is it, that friends have become critics.
If there had been someone as healer, if there had been an assuager of grief!
6. Blood would’ve unceasingly dripped from the veins of stone,
Had it, which you are considering grief, been a spark!
7. Grief is, invariably, life-consuming; still one cannot escape as 'tis a matter of passions!
Had there been no grief of love, there would've been sufferings of livelihood!
8. To whom would I confide that the distressing night is a severe catastrophe!
Would death be bad for me if I died once and only once!
9. Since my dying disgraced me-- why wasn’t I drowned in the river?
Neither my bier would ever have been carried, nor would anywhere be a tomb.
10. Who would ever be able to see Him, for unique is His Oneness!
If there had been even a sign of twoness, somewhere He’d have been encountered!
11. These inquiries into mysticism, this eloquence of yours, Ghalib!
We would’ve regarded you to be a saint, had you not been a wine-drinker
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 9:16 PM UTC
what am I
to carry these insides
that tread in the wrong places
I feel this
After the first wake
of devotion.
Any spark
burns bright then dims.
Each me
is the shadow
of one anothers
ascetic.
We still try
coagulating the unknown known,
and your close drippy beam
destroys me.
All ripe is rotten
actualization
through a feigned gaze.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 11:44 AM UTC
With an archangelic blessing
they stand open naked exposed
one gaze of longing
one gaze of wonder
there is need of nothing
save one another
beneath stark colors
beneath fluttering imagination
beneath divine sky
neither highest peaks
over verdent fields
nor deepest riverbeds
under raging flows
prevents this sanctification
As trees may burn
As serpents may strike
As gilded beams beat down
Time halts or never was
Whilst raptured crimson wings
effortlessly suspend
any pretense of twoness
worshipping this momentary
omnipotence
cursing the ludicrous
notion of morrow
Their curving bodies are
but one--
--at least for now.
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
It is the absence of air - of space.
A twoness made out of oneness, that slowly becomes oneness again.
It is fire.
The light graze of HEAT along the edges of your suddenly tight knuckles. Every pore in your body falls in love in a vivid blur of life.
It's all-encompassing, like how the lazy sunset spreads and pools its searching golden fingers across every living thing, clinging to the earth.
It is a lazy ripple striating across the surface.
The stress leaving your body in waves as they rub your shoulder. It's an intense, firm awareness of every atom in your being, every breath and shift of your limbs a story waiting to be told.
It's a prison and a release when they hold your hand for the first time.
It's earthy comfort and flickering excitement. Heavy heat and grounding warmth. Lightning nerves turn to steady assurance.
Safety.
Vulnerability.
Contact.
Presence.
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 7:46 PM UTC