Fatal Journey
When words frothed on the
Banks of meaning
Gurgling with sore shells and twisting crabs
Senses wrapped in yellow hairy skin
Broke through the enigma
And splashed into a fountain of tears
The nose could smell
As the eyes could see
The bull’s horn brought the
Earth back to its balance
To seek meaning is meaningful
To find meaning is negation of existence
The boneless necks of the turtles
Pulled their heads back
Into the hard shells
Meaning is well armoured
Many heads split on the
Rocky back of words
Bubble
The bubble burst its
Umpteen colours into
A watery hollowness
And began creating a new one
Each one pricking me to my senses
I am not an etherized patient
I remain on guard
You can’t touch my airy nothingness
Something might come out of
Nothingness
Like
The complete circular wetness
Out of
A bubble exploded
On a dry blank slate
Vision
Life
A blind man’s
Alley
The blind man
A living
Darkness
Sight inwards,
Searching a way
Out of himself
Lands
into a whirling self
Blue Baby
I entered the world too soon
The brightness dazzled me
I could not stand firm on my legs
The ground beneath me always shook
I fell
I crawled
I fell
I half-got up
I remain suspended
What is a home
My mind has to cover too long a
Distance to meet another
I feel my ghost
Uneasy in my body
I am not guilty
My mother is
She didn’t keep me in her womb for the full
Nine months
Mountain Nights
I didn’t know then
What I know now
The big thud on the roof
That cracked the rocky silence
Of sleep day after day
Was that of a flying fox
with wings that do not
carry its weight into the firmament
Nor combat the mountain fog
Huddled out of dreams
I’d topple into the black tunnel
of night all alone
not in glory of the
moonlit snow
but in anguish of the lingering din
of sleepless nights
Treacherous journey uphill
difficult to climb
more difficult to come down…
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