Understanding The Dream


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This is my dream

A caricaturized truth woven

In spiders’ web and

Pulverized veins, warm

And squirting, molded

With the flesh of the living, watered

In blood, kneaded

With reality, a dream

Nevertheless, steeped

In the illusion of Life, sticky

Like saliva.

Do you constitute as real, or are you

A figment of my imagination? Worse yet,

Am I a figment of yours?

I do not know and I doubt that I will ever find out

Does it matter anyway?

Because,

This is my delusion, this is what I chose,

Trapped in a hallway of mirrors,

Ensnared in hapless eternity, because

There hadn’t been a choice, there had never been.

I dictate your terms or you dictate mine

And it is my decision to accept or reject

Because it is my dream, or I

A figment of yours.

But as all dreams go, we cannot control the circumstances

The instances are inconsistencies that revel in deeper calamities

But I can choose to wake up too early and let the dream end

Dissipate, disassemble, disintegrate to crumbly little nothings

Before its time is due.

For I am but a single drop

In an immense filthy ocean

Of pollution, corruption, unscrupulous exploitation

I dream of emancipation

From this insipid, vapid satire in which

We eat, drink, fuck and fall away

Like flies.


Ode to a muse


My phantom, my muse

You tease me, you test me dearly

With random smiles, a careless kiss from time to time

So tender on my lips, a painful brush, but

I quite like the pain.

My beautiful spirit, you

Have been away for far too long that

The springs have dried up and

The parched land yearns for a drop

Of your bountiful soul.

My sweetest spark, you

Give me words but never stories

Give me notes, but never full songs and

I’ve been waiting far too long.

My animus, afflatus you

Appear, disappear like

The April lightning, so sudden

So startlingly profound that you

Leave me gasping every time.

My impulse, my  revelation, you

Dearest darling child who

Tugs at a heart string and runs away

And hides behind a dream, my

Ruthless, gentle child.

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Rooted


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We shall have beds full of subtle odors

Couches as deep as tombs

And strange flowers upon shelves

Exerting their last warmth at will.

Our two hearts shall beam, two large torches

Reflect their double lights

These twin mirrors inside our minds

Glowing softly and then the embers

Will fade into darkness within the flame

Wailing as it goes.

On an evening made up of a mystic pink and blue

We shall exchange a single flash, a morsel

Of a fading rainbow,

And heave a deep sigh

Like a long sob charged

With intense farewells,

Lay

The softest kiss upon the brow

In parting

Butterfly wings no more, it shall lie heavy

Rooted firmly, we have become

Trees.


September


Rainy afternoons

Smelling of wet earth, hot coffee

And books

Quiet evenings

Of fluttering pages and somnolent fantasies

In pale light filtered

Through pregnant clouds and

Green leaves burdened

With the juice of the sky.

When suddenly, you breeze in

Piercing through the cascade

And splatter upon my skin

Fragrant and serene

Like a forgotten kiss when

The pen would bleed words and paper

Would not be enough to mop up that wordy mess

That you so carelessly leave behind.


Scattered


Darkness came

Yes it came, on an unsuspecting day

Uncharacteristically nimble on its great clawed feet.

It whispered

Through its clenched teeth, hateful whispers

Abominable whispers

Its breath stank of wasted lives, its spit tasted of minds lost

It whispered, sent thousand spiders scuttling through the ears,

A mind whimpered

As spiders spun their crafty webs

And darkness weaved its shifty skeins

And hope got caught and struggled

Bled within the barbed wire, shed its wings and died.

Thoughts scattered

Like the pearls of my mother’s necklace that I once broke and cried

Cried and cried till every pearl was collected

Cried and cried till the string was mended, with love.

And yet

Who is to collect my scattered thoughts

And piece them back together again today?


Malice


Perfection reeks, coils around

Serpentine fake smiles

Hiss. Hollow words

Drop. Emotionless eyes

Devour. They

Seek to lure. A mind

Perches on a leafless branch

Barren. And wonders

Where have all the flowers gone

Empty words

Resonating through the ears,comforts

Provokes that first angry word

Directed at a sincere heart,a poisoned dart

First dazes,then paralyzes

Finally kills.Painful death

As one dart follows another

And yet

Another.Once one escapes,the others

Easily slip through.Murder!

A mind gathers moss on a barren dying branch

Withers,shrinks,becomes a mere twig

Serpentine fake smiles shine

Emotionless eyes,they glitter

Malice.


Mermaids’ tears


Mermaids’ tears

Lie glistening,glittering jewels on the sand

These tears do count,yet these maids of the sea

Have stone cold hearts,they could not feel.

What happens to the tears we cry?

The we who feel,the we who hurt

Do they gleam? Do they glisten in the sun?

Does anyone see? Do they even count?

The countless,numberless tears of the heart?

To become a mermaid! How wonderful a thing!

To drown at sea,grow cold at heart,

Feel no pain,yet cry tears that glisten like stars

Brave the seven seas,comb one’s hair

Sing serenades to passers by.

Become a mermaid! What a glorious a thing!

To make one’s tears worth is definitely something.