City of parallel lies
with masks, twitches unheard
an intrusion of insects into the skin
the air is eerie.
scratch the masks people,
peel off the under skin
to see blueberries hanging
from your forehead.
In the serene morphic undistilled
inhale the dewy poetry.
The poetry that lies
inside the innocuous flesh.
The star consumes and spreads the beam.
Fumes of twilight shout your name
adorned in gracious pastel fields of paddy
Aroma and lanterns of your touch
conjure the magic in this cool breeze
making my inner shades all yours,
My teeth clasping your skin,
like the raindrops romancing with the earth.
Inexplicable, beddable for you.
Surreal spectrum of rainbows
clicking my mind
in the sultry daydream.
A mirage unknown,
till the moonlit occurs,
a failed marriage,
or child marriage
perplexion in minds
Mahogany sturdy furniture to cherish,
and the coffin is just a wood.
oh, human, what a myth!
From a dark hole, no light can be seen.
Darkness eats darkness, to produce more of it.
Sustenance in the trunk of tree
or sustenance in the thunderstorms
will make your body and mind a living zombie
Caricatures shall be burned
smokes, ashes and grave.
Floating fingers, aerial flaps of thigh
hunting red eyes, covetous palm
For jealousy is a disease
In the blues of water,
poke your dizzy reflection— what do you see?
Take a conscious step further,
graphite earthworms shall stick to your sole,
paralysis of mind, paralysis of the heart,
Sickness will eat you like a fire spread
Dead trees also cool down, after the smoke is extinguished.
That night was like firecracker. Galaxy overloaded with the stardust. The hums of two souls on this bed sheet could be heard above in the oblivion red sky. The music that our touch produced, the chains formed of lust, the golden promises, the congruence of love. That impeccable mystery rocked the spaces above, it rained heavenly like our jocund voices were heard. The smell of your skin mingled with the Celebration flew across, through the fields brushing those mustard crops and to the valley declaring thunderstorms. The collision was into our breaths, into our sighs.
I saw you bitting my tongue. My pink tongue.
My moans took the form of transparent dewdrops, it was a paroxysm of fire and ice, gliding through your sturdy caricature, flowing diligently into your mind. Creating motif. Chemical formula finally lingering your colossal enigma. The intrusive knots of passion.
It was the thumping of our heartbeats, the intoxication of love, the caress of your touch, making me that fragile flower blooming in despair. A lotus. A shadow of your soul dancing on Earth.
P.S -My poem Soul on Soul published on Spill words. You may check my work here.
Come sit, have a cup of the black tea, I prepared.
The story is long for your forlorn heart would claim the pain in a moment or two.
The chain I talk today, oh, sorrow is diabolical.
So frugal, barbarous.
The inside of my heart left the colonies of fairy dust as if.
As I cross my wrist, hear the crackle of the bone.
The crackle of my solitude.
lit in my eyes,
the burning glaze you see,
the dilapidating music you hear,
come sit, have another cup of the black tea.
The ruckus runs through my dry skin, joining dots on my skin,
creating shambles like a dead corpse
The arms extend late nights to grab a bottle of comfort, you see?
The comfort — a meadow, oh, the sweet meadow.
Peace like the ravishing Orchids, white nature.
Yes, the soft feather stating, gorgeous wings, infinite joyous tales to discover.
Oh, you finished the tea, wish a refill?
For this soul can say the darkest of the chronicles,
like the flowing wishful, the evergreen Ganges.
A basket of floral patterns started right here, from my proclaimed beauty.
I was beautiful, like a cast of Aurora on the Himalayas.
First, I learned and swallowed truth with honey, so was the birth of my eyes.
this deep, hazelnut mosaic eyes
My body contacted with the blatant Moon, who marked my naked body
with thorns, countless emotions of twists and turns
And I was carved with my first outcry, I walked the truth and devoured it
In a pool of bells and music, Bloodstains I see
piled up as dead leaves, choking my pharynx
loading my teeth,
so I spill….I spill the truth, the unsparing bowl of parasites
an invisible ladder of truth
and so the truth was born, inside my flesh
I inhaled the truth…decorated its scratch on my lips
for this body is a truth.
Screams, numbness, volatile bubble of love.
Through the slices of segmented desire
Where the circumference of my peevish skin expands,
I inhale into the tiny molecules that flourish these numb walls,
Mending a crack,
With a mist of romance,
Point of lust, point of dainty smell of you.
I walk through the ruptures of placcid walls enunciating your presence,
And I peel the rim of this cucumber time zone
Where my legs fall in the abyss of surreal moments of you,
Like clicking of needles, rainwater puddle upon my iris,
As if I were a shadow of your dream.
A dream worth swallowing the darkness,
Just to produce the moon’s composure, a debonair companion.
Incandescent vapours of sunshine,
Forms on Orphic pattern of hope, miseries.
I walk like a daydream, butter on paper.
Found to the known, lost to the soil..who am I?
Imbricated like orange peels,
Stuck like a star-dust to my mundane house ceilings.
Where, roses and feathers caress my faith,
Only to know, this table and burning body is all just a hoax.
Tongues of slacking fingers turn
the yellow pages of the book.
Between letters lies space, space of empty bowl
the shadow, the lamp, the oil,
without sunset, the vessel and substance.
Dried petals of last night’s flower
forgot the meadow of my mouth.
The breeze did not speak my name.
lost in the trivial oblivion
Even the sunset refused to caress my soul.
I know language of flowers and dandelions,
the language of thorns and crooked stars
silence resist in the topology of melting grass
like the Colossus,
I am lost in trepidation of white penumbra
surrounding my teeth and distance between teeth
hush…hush…my body is aerial
hush…hush…my grey segment of the index finger is silent.
In the cacophony of lost and found
I am a soliloquy speech
under your slick peels of love, hate.
I have a temple inside my chin,
for I am a pendulum of sonorous
like colours of star-dust,
with pastels shade, devouring my deleterious thoughts
or the beatific sparkle in petals of morning sunflower
you paint me with the bottle of red wine,
the colours splashing on my skin,
on my waist till the moonlit drops
on my lips, drinking the mystical sweet nectar
cracking my nights to make a vivid lacuna
A lacuna of fondness,
the smell of sheets penetrate into my bones
lifting the veil of frozen thoughts,
like painting colour on a white jackfruit
then bursting the same
burst your touch on my forehead, burst your flow on my cheekbones
a crackling sound, a music of the symphony
Lion devours the she-wolf
A fight indeed, or the wild ocean of invincible smell
the smell of us breathing, Melody
Jingles of star in the galaxy
stroking us with quixotic flavours of cupid
Puerile streams of river now flowing on my sweet breast
on my lips,
on my refreshed eye
creating a new landscape, a landscape of roses romancing the wine.