the body swells
in the anarchy of lunatic afternoon
the mouth fumbles,
dripping sonnets from the toes,
the face gulps the horrors
swiveling across the pale streets,
i sing a song so full of flat tune now,
in the small clots of blue sky.
and I never stop staring at that sky,
that lump in my small throat,
a wound so uglier now.
There is such an alkaline dance of the naked goddess inside my womb.
I become almost infallible.
with blue moons, in my chest,
it sings a song so perfectly,
with small droplets of water sleep on the floor.
There exist multiple tunes intertwined with shadow
of my despair song.
I sit in the open lawn
a lawn full of earth and skeptic memoirs
the scattered Congregation of unskewered mind.
I see a mushroom sprouting here in the garden,
the thick shoots clinging another.
Co-existence must be a plaster?
And then I hear the temple bells,
altogether, the sound similar to my mother’s laughter.
but there are other moments occurring in the noon,
a cry so stuffed with the yellow air,
thick & warm,
moist layers of Earth’s lip.
Other occurings happen
where the housewife takes an oath to fight,
a child who hums the songs of surrealism
There is a hem of nebulous despair lined down my skirt
as if it holds the grief of the entire city,
the tattered brood of paper roses.
I find serenity in the eyelids of pain, too often.
What does it make me?
An artist or a doctor?
Nature, in the noon, spills the seeds of a distant truth
to thy naked eye.
An entire life wraps itself
beneath the curtain of my orange mess.
You see few things here biting me like a void,
a fist to feel the pain
I have things half-written over here,
a half-written aesthetic journal
hammered down with sunburnt phases.
I have twigs of my memory
packed in a box of despair somewhere.
A point of subservience.
a poem falls
from my rinsed, soaked skin of spring.
I call it catharsis.
How my words dance around my convex neck,
how my creased papers sigh like a downpour.
And I all have is memories
of blue-bathed cloth
of sins& bottle-brush
All I have now is
rest for my eyelids,
rest for my empty body,
my dancing, elliptical body.
You must be logged in to post a comment.