my struggle with silence

Poetry

Oblivion

When forehead bears weight

Time fails to unburden,

It is the heart that needs sedating.

 

Eyes, witnesses of history, know more

The struggle to forget. Why look?

Days are luckier. They die.

Resurrect amnesiac; live on in serenity or wonder

Where wreckage spilled from.

It is easier to sew yourself up if you forget

How you tore. But you must know, or die

Chasing after fading suns at Atlantic’s core

 

Grieve lasts too long it replaces

Reality once lived

Life is never good enough,

There is no good time to host death

Life bears, if one for everyone, fruit, edible

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Beyond

Pull me off this deserted street I gallop
It ends where it breaks, leading
Down to where my coming will not
Upset weary dust.
I should have known, least probed
Smoke overing above
Clouding spaces my forehead would smash,
Prepping me for falling beyond
Rope, ladder, hope.
Night tells days that not only sight makes us.
Days die, relapse,
Bask in re-resurrection.
Souls look to days for hope
Which declines to share its secret,
Stumbling,  dismantling beyond recoupling.
I see death axing my ceiling:
It leaves too many leaks
For resistance to seal


unBeautiful

I arched my brows, asked
The ugly why they answers their name
I struck an arrow in logic’s implanted eyes,
Found threshold of choices


Faces bear same burden of plateaus,
Gorges, plains
We select a handful,
Rechristen them pageants,
Make them moons, banish
Leftovers into dungeons
To think about why they are what they are
As though they could choose to be moons


Short-term



You lingered.
The sun ended its shift
Before your arrival.
In the subtlety of dusk
Wind whistled and leaves
Caressed leaves,
Making music of an unearthly genre
The spotlight shot and you began to sing
In a customary soprano monotone

The spotlight trails your steps
Fading out on your abrupt departure
We are still settling into your tone
But your mind is set
You sign no autograph
Before flinging your pen
Alien guards barricade your exit
To repel attempts of dissuade you

We watch from behind bulletproof glass
You dissolve, with inadvertent sluggishness
Into dwindling oblivion
At night’s first yawn.
It seem a secret, from the sun,
You must conceal




Intention

Intention.

A thought, possibility.

A reverie unravels

When limbs barge out of a lump

As the mystery of reality

Takes form in a sanctuary.

 

An experimental inference,

Bearer of secrets that make

See-through glasses

Sings the best of songs:

“Mama!”


Haikus (5-7-5)

images

Solitude is bliss

You ask yourself for answers

To questions unasked

In soft wooden leaves

My overflowing mind lives

Twisted with strong heaves

Fruit with dying stalk

Unripe but threatening to fall

To be free but lost

I searched for a name

In which I will hide my face

And not be a prey

Look beyond my eyes

Run a scan to search my soul

For what no one knows


Our City of Ember

A shot was fired at the sun

It could not burn enough to crack the night

For a new day to be born

The moon is denied food

And the orb in which we are stuck

Is stuck like bottled fluid with a cork

Shadows and their masters become inextricable

So is noonday and midnight

Life exists for existence sake

Banished from pleasure and appetite

The blind and those with sight become equals

A road cannot be told from a ditch

Nor can a man from a tree

Inhabitants of the penumbra share with reluctance

The atom-sized mass of light in them

We found comfort in hardship, contentment in distress

As we wait for the one who would take the lead

The first embryo to pierce its way out of its shell

And tell us about vast existence from which we have been blinded

By our adaptation to a City of Ember


Surrender

Like a vampire facing execution

I am tied to my fate

And placed in the sun

To melt away

For the flood of my rage

To wash my ashes away

 

I stand here alone

On the brink of existence

Waiting patiently

For my departed spirit

That crawled away

To return with the key

To unlock the vortex

That will lead me home

And release me

From this soulful moan


FREE BUT LOST

220px-Tomato_scanned
Fruit with dying stalk
Unripe, but threatening to fall
To be free but lost


ATONEMENT

I inclined my head to read thoughts I wrote

On a star, which I should have breathed life on

But the sun had sent it off to die

The day dragged itself on

Stretching seconds until they felt like minutes

Countering every effort of redemption.

When again I saw familiar winks in the sky

I looked up and called on the distant light

To give back that which I left behind

It said it was a newly born star

That the one I sought was its older sister

Which the night will never bring back

My rage wore off; I turned to depart

I searched my brain for thoughts, ripe but unhatched

As I saw a rising sun breaching darkness

For remorse is a play in which I long not to cast