Fireflies of Time

Skeletons of yore,
Do hound me still...
Though long before,
They’ve risen in smoke...

Afraid of the flames,
Backwards I trip...
Though the faces in flames,
Draw me close...

I circle the pyre,
And hover around,
Singed by many memories.
And yet I struggle,
To flee the shrouds,
Of reawakened retold stories.

Inch by Inch,
Closer I edge.
Knowing my fate shall be burnt.
Stronger I grow amidst the lapping flames,
Certain that I will return.

To glower through the menacing fire,
(Built on a raging, sturdy pyre)
At flights of fears and fancy.

That once I was,
And so they shall be,
The past of a past that had been.

So flicker and flit to the tall flames,
Unsure, scared and blind.
Become me as I will you,
The fireflies of time.

The Mad Woman

Gouging the mind
from the twisted brain,
sorting the mixed up thoughts,
she finds a box so carefully laid
with ideas never before sought,
laden with dust and body juice,
it lies frozen at the back,
and as she breaks through the congealment,
the mad woman in the attic attacks.

Hungry Songs

Fumes from nascent blooms,
Guide a naive love,
That wishes with surging desire,
A blend of warm touch,
To cocoon a throbbing heart.
While a sterile silence
Laden with prodding urgency,
Whispers notes of hungry songs.
And in the chaotic quietude,
We find...us

I, The Tree

So what if one day,
A few leaves may betray.
The tree shall stand always,
Sturdy and tall…

Knowing Love

I feel the ocean wind in your breath.
And see the moonlight in your eyes.
Sprightly sparrows echo,
In your cackling laughter.
And, I am compelled to summarise,
Why is it so,
That the bees that earlier bugged me,
When they buzzed about my ear,
Are music to me now,
And intently I hear,
As if driven into a somnolence so deep,
That dreams seem a strange surreal reality.
Brown no longer appears muddy
But the mottled colour of a moth.
Green isn’t as commonplace
As previously I thought.
Jeers and jabs make me smile
As if watching a comedy.
Anger evades my elusive mind
As if captured by tranquil melody.
What is this knot in my rib
That clenches my restless heart?
Why this unexpected exaltation
Of joys ignored thus far?
I think, I ponder.
I sing, I wonder.
And as if magicked by fairy dust
I realise,It’s love!

Love by the Sadistic Sea

As the crimson sky gleams,
And the gentle waves tap,
The patient tortured rocks,
I look into your liquid eyes,
And feel unmistakeable warmth.
As the languid breeze caresses,
And the urgent sea tows,
The loyal sand,
You press my nervous hand,
And a surge of joy beats,
Through my longing soul.
But, the inflamed sky turns bleak,
And the waters whisper knowingly,
Prophecies of moments to come:
You blink away the warmth,
And withdraw your loving hand.
So I stand injured and alone,
No more than a fool, bitter.
While the rocks yawn,
The wind cackles, and
The nasty waves titter.

From O to Yo

Happy birthday to my guitar loving, long haired pesky friend and brother! :)

I have in my mind,
A little picture frame,
Through which peers,
A briliant bright smile.

I store in my heart,
A little music box,
Through which I hear,
Melodies for miles.

I carry with me,
The melody and smile,
Everywhere that I go.
A part of a friend,
Who stands by me,
And shall always, I trust and know.

A silky wave, that's his hair.
An earring that adds to the dimple.
As good as gold, my dear friend's,
As clean and clear as crystal.

His silly pranks amuse me a lot.
The strumming warms my heart.
And just when you think he's all grown up,
He'll go right back to the start.

I chide him no end to chop off his mane.
It curtains his sense of hearing.
But finally I think I'll let him go,
And leave him to his youth and growing.

I may not be the perfect friend,
But you're the best a friend can have.
So a gift to you, my friend my bro,
Is this little poem,From 'O to Yo'.

To Jo- A Best Friend and Sister

To Jo- A best friend and sister!

A special place in your heart,
Are stolen by a select few.
To speak of such a strong soul,
Words enough, I wish I knew.

For English is not as vast,
As the reach of her resplendent smile.
A girl so fresh and pure,
I've known not for miles.

Friend, you have been there,
Through tides high and low.
Zapping me back to reality,
When I know not where to go.

No act is warm enough,
To tell you how much I care,
And though I stink at rhyme,
With this expression I dare to dare.

For many will always tell you,
That they like you best.
But now these words shall stand-out,
From the mundane prose of the rest. ( ;) )

With heartfelt earnest wishes,
I hope your dreams come true.
And bless you with a lifetime of joy,
My friend I shall always walk by you.

A Divided Bond of Love

Each day she looked.
At him passing by.
Wholly unaware that,
He looked on the sly.

She counted the hours,
To see his brown face.
Braiding her hair,
Arranging the lace
.....

Wild flowers in hand,
He came one day.
She stood so nervous,
As he tried to say.

She hoped to hear,
What she dreamt all along.
He gave her the flowers,
And sang her a song.

The words were sweet, honest and new.
Her stomach lurched.
It was love and they knew.

They sat together,
Alone in twilight.
Darkness a companion.
Stars in sight.

Then....

Not far they heard,
A growing murmur.
Thumping feet and,
Flames coming nearer.

Before they knew it,
They were caught in the fire.
A line of divide-The lower and higher.

Soon after they were forgotten,
And the world trudged along.
Lines of divide seeming,
Ever so strong.

And, once again,
They were caught in the fire.
A fresh bond of love,
An untimely pyre...

The Aftermath

Silver bells faint and far,
Sound a sly glimpse of freedom,
Amidst chaotic cries.
As lives lie still and stunned,
Ravaged by hate and lust,
And hearts too hardened to hurt.

A final crack consumes the air,
And peace prevails once more,
Dreading its complacent calmness.
But hearts stripped of humanity stare,
With fearful eyes and ghostly faces,
At a bleeding, barren world.
As the silver bells faint and far,
Sound a sly glimpse ...of a dream.

The Staggerer

With a lasso round the neck,
The faceless master-
A cold blue face,
And, rolling red robes,
Drags about a man-like beast.
He stumbles, he yelps,
He whimpers, he pleads.
But, the brute drags him along,
On an endless journey
Along a stony path.
Where the water lays still,
No moss, no weed.
The cries are unheard.
The feet shuffle and kick.
The crimson knees,
Bend and trip.
But, he drags along.
His mouth agape.
The eyes haunted.
The soul hunted.

The Sinking Stern

Had she known of the impending storm,
Of the doom,
And the fall,
The ship would never have sailed.
Had she known of the broken hearts,
Of the tears,
And the loss,
The ship would never have sailed.
Had she known of the savage tides,
Of the dull clouds,
And the looming skies,
The ship would never have sailed.
But, the unsteady sands,
Have waved goodbye.
The people around,
Have kissed and cried.
The ship has sailed,
Never to return.
Hearts are hurt,
Broken and burnt.

To a Friend...

Let me see that playful smile,
When your heart rejoices.
Let me see those starving tears,
When you're bogged by life's choices.
Tell me of your worries and pain,
Trust that I will hear.
I may not have all the answers,
But, I will share your fears.
All I ask is you sing and dance,
And stand here by my side.
And hold me close and help me sail,
Through life's endless tides.

Confinements of a soul, Confessions of the heart

I am trapped in a dead end zone.
The giant wall mocks me.
I grope frantically.
There is no way out.

Darkness falls quickly and quietly.
Like the laced curtains in a theatre.
And I wait for a new show,
A brighter next day.

I press myself against mossy bricks,
Looking at the scary presence of nothingness.
Gravity drags me and I crouch
Silently in a corner...waiting...

Far away I see a blinding light,
Like flashing emergency lamps
Or like ones in a lighthouse.
The guiding light I cannot reach.

My pocket bears a dry pen.
The ground is firm and smooth.
I can coat the earth with feelings galore.
And my words will be un-eraseable.

So, I scribble away designing
Nameless, mindless fears...
The nib beating
Against the chest of the earth.

One over another, I engrave my words.
They shine like gold
And glow like phosphorous.
The dark corners are ablaze like day.

In a single, long night,
The moon waxes and wanes
Revealing new letters each time.
They will be here for eternity.

I have done what I must do.
So I sit and wait for a new prisoner
With fingers spread out like claws,
My skin wrinkled like prunes.

I have lost my form.
I am a watery fluid
Floating in air.
Gaping like a fish.

The light shimmers on my face.
And I am a resplendent ghost.
A lonely, white manifestation Of emptiness.

I am the only captive
On a desolate lonely land.
Iam a waiting ghost
While the light gleams far away, unreachable for infinity.

Caught in the Act

She sits at her desk
Scribbling with care
Weaving words
Straight from the heart.
The lazy arm
Rests as a bow
While the wrist sways
Like an agile snake.
The light of the dark
Kisses her soft arm
And the tiny hairs
Glimmer like gold
The ink dances with passion
Upon coarse loose sheets
And the candle flickers impatiently
As she writes in peace.

Beats of a Resounding Heart

The well is deep.
The water shallower still.
The measly stone
makes no splash.
Just a deafening sound
Of silent life.
Perhaps its the same sound
that will resound in this stone wall,
When what goes down
Is a measly me.

The Sequined Veil

She sits alone
Under a dipping tree
Staring at the vast space
Languidly outstreched above.
The giant fireflies
Sparkle in her eyes.
The infinite shamiana
Yawns with placid arrogance.
She is nothing more
Than one of the many
Tiny immaculate specks
Of a sinister universe.

Love

Love, like,
The air between my fingers,
Passes through my life
Unnoticed...unrepressed...
I know the scent.
I fathom its essence.
I close my fist
And try to lock,
That familiar longing;
That unknown restlessness,
That wrenches my heart.
But, it passes through,
Like a menacing angel.
And all that remains is,
The memory,
Of the familiarity;
The fragments,
Of a broken heart;
And a struggling soul,
That trudges along.

The Trembling Hand

Strike a tong.
It shivers.
Like a lonely leaf,
Falling from a tree.
Flick a fly.
It flutters.
Like a lost warrior,
In his last battle.
Unleash the heart.
A restless soul,
Staggers out,
And the body lies vacant .
Waiting for a new master,
A fresh life,
A new self,
Another, mangled heart.

The Dark Holds No Terrors

Bleak...sinister...scary...
The endless darkness frightens me no end.
I stumble across memories-
Happy, wondrous, depressing...
I trip and fall over a chest,
As dark as the charcoal around.

In a flood of light,
Spring out colourful beetles.
Each whispers chants into my ears.
I shrink, afraid of the sight...
The noise and... all the commotion.
They glide over my skin. The tingle makes me calm.

I listen quietly now.
The soothing buzz gives way
To a haunting lull
There is a tranquility about the peace.
The night has it’s own identity.
The horrifying breeze, now cools my neck.

It glazes over my arm,
Making it’s way into my garbs.
The chill soothes my skin,
I draw in the pristine air.
An eclectic mix of the gush of wind,
Caressing me inside and out.

I shut my eyes.
It is darkness within the dark.
But, the beetles shine bright
The dark holds no terrors.
Slowly I rise. Quietly, I leave the dark chamber.

The Untrammelled Road

It lurks in dark corners,
Like a fugitive on the prowl.
And like a ripping lightning,
Strikes you unaware.
Grey clouds turn sinister...
Darkness haunts the eyes...
The grains of time,
Slip away like a slithery fish.
The deafening thunder,
Brings a new birth.
It is the fateful beginning,
Of life after life.

All around there exists,
The damask of nothingness.
Nothingness- a tangible
Essence of this new world.
A winding path,
To see and discover,
And grasp the air,
Of that which no longer remains.
The clouds rise,
In spiral smoke,
Synecdoche of terror.
The beginning of another end.

There is nothing beyond
This endless odourless smoke.
But the lone traveller still fears
The lurking phantom.
For, it is unknown-The future of this new life.
An endless journey?
The road with another end?
It is the inevitable.
The definite goal of a thumping heart.
An utterly strange (in)experience.
It is the faceless knight named death.