Consumed by the hungry juice.
My eager nose captures a few,
My eyes trying to decipher
The spinning vortex,
Sucked into the heat.
The soft patter of dripping water-
From the crowns of icy mountains;
From the ocean depths.
The curried mixture of sand-
Red, black, white-
From crescent shaped bays;
From blood soaked battlefields;
From coral embedded sea beds.
The vibrant robes of quartered flowers-
Roses, daffodils, sunflowers.
From the peaks of windswept cliffs;
From the cold stone of worm-eaten tombs.
The aromas of every imaginable odour-
Cinnamon, roasting meat, mown grass-
From ages fires raging through millennia;
From treasures supplies on board
royal vessels.
The noises of petrified creatures-
Sheep, dogs, humans-
From rolling fields with meadow tresses;
From the darkest prison dungeons;
From the chilly derelict streets.
All went in in the cauldron of fire,
And smoke finally engulfed
The melting pot.
Where all the ingredients
Were crystals welded-
Welded into a masterpiece-
A blue sphere
In a backdrop of
Black.
****
10. A Walk in Your Shoes
There was the hunched figure
Shrouded in the mist
His shoulders sunken with the
weight of dejection
A disparaging huff later,
A crowd bypassed
Shunting hostile stares with his
bewildered expression.
I never really knew.
What it would be like
to walk in your shoes.
I walked parallel, my feet
taking me further away.
And his tormented eyes
locked onto mine.
“Why don’t you take a walk in
My shoes?”
His artichoke heart didn’t
betray the tumult of emotion
broiling inside.
His unfathomable face didn’t
betray the pain and torment.
I never really knew.
What it would be like
to walk in your shoes.
His reclusive stance never
reared to show the tense
Nervousness that was
annexed inside.
I never really knew.
What it would be like
to walk in your shoes.
His natural smile
Was a painted lie-
a hard etch onto a frozen soul
to disguise the numbness underneath.
I never really knew.
What it would be like
to walk in your shoes.
****
11. Our First Bow
Withered we stand,
Our last robe leaving our frozen frames,
The dying tissue, so decoratively draped,
Snatched by an unforgiving gale.
We stand naked in our brave-faced bark,
Our happiness stripped away,
But our pride intact.
Withered we stand,
An unyielding wind relishing
Our slender fingers,
Fracturing our perfect symmetry,
Driven by an envy unmatched.
But we’ll never sway,
Never stoop so low,
We might be broken,
But our pride intact.
Withered we stand,
Our silent screams unanswered,
By the hiding beacon,
Wisps of cotton obscuring,
Our elixir of life.
But still we persist,
Our ragged thirst ripping our hearts,
Our majestic bodies diminishing,
Into shrunken translucence.
But our pride intact.
Withered we stand,
Starved of care and beauty,
Skin drooping, hunger menacing,
Our last hopes dying in
Our cobwebbed throats.
But there comes our savior,
Batting a sheen of opaque fabric,
And shining once more—
On our ravished souls.
He glares bright and strong,
Steaming with a triumph,
Unmatched by our struggles,
And lets light dawn once more,
On a land frozen, forgotten.
Our frightened threads slowly,
Curl themselves into a woven,
Blanket,
Our spiky icicles drip their last,
Drops of blood,
And our raving mind
So necrotic by a maddened frenzy
Calms in the warm haze.
The silent wasteland,
Transforms into a chattering meadow,
Mute birds sing out buried melodies,
Unconscious creatures race about,
Gentle breezes pamper our dresses.
Time mends our complaining hearts,
And our beacon kindles a fire of hope,
A flame that thaws through misery and
Cold, A flame that
Guides us in the darkest ages,
A flame that makes us know—
There is something we bow to,
Something our pride can’t overlook.
****
12. The Most Beautiful Place
I was there when it all began,
When God created Earth and the roasting Sun.
I saw the creation of the first humans, in the blue void,
Saw more life seeping in, quick as a rushing asteroid.
Saw the green become gray and saw the blue become brown.
And one day God asked me,
“Find a place of the most beauty, a place which nowhere can surpass,”
I travelled the globe, in search of a place, a place whose beauty was infinite.
I had begun in high hopes, for I was eager to behold the fruits of God’s creations,
But I saw that all the carefully knitted blanket was cracking its foundations.
The slender blades of grass were crushed under money driven nations.
I saw their handiwork rip apart their delicate home,
Saw them revolve round and round just their own lives.
And forget about the millions of other living things, starved and hunted,
I saw them forsake the noble laws that they laid out on their evolution
And wallow in crime and deception, which led to world-wide diminution
I returned to my abode, where God saw my misery and was crestfallen, and asked me
“Was there not one place on the whole Earth that at least surpasses the rest of the world?”
I answered him with a sad sigh and spoke the only words that I could give in reply
“Oh, God, I saw the world, every bit,
And tried and tried to find a place that was unpolluted by human actions
And which held equal ecosystem attractions
I found every place with a large gap of rich and poor refractions
I tried and tried to find a place that wasn’t dominated by the propriety of money
Oh God, I failed in this quest
And I don’t know how to amend the flaws that we made in your creations.”
I saw the god deep in thought and speak to me of his musings
“Alas, I never wished for the Earth to come to this state,
I hope the humans will understand in time because
The only hope they have is realization”
****
13. Reminiscence
The sun greets me lik
e it always had,
A bright smile against
The memories that rush back.
Do you remember? it asks
The sky bears down in eager
welcome
Do you remember? it asks.
Moss now covers the old swing
Preserving all those days
Which time has left behind.
Do you remember? it asks
The floor is now lidded with
A veil of green,
A thin coffin of those footprints
that once were .
Do you remember? it asks
The wind touches my face and
Sighs with recognition
Do you remember? it asks
The trees twist and bend
A routine my mind
had never erased
Do you remember? it asks
A book lies abandoned,
Its pages eagerly trying to
lure me back in.
A rustle as another piece breaks off,
joining the wind on its expedition
to leave behind its reminiscences.
I will remember, it says.
I find the spot where it all had left me
When the memories had turned sour,
Where hope had abandoned my haunts.
I will remember, I echo.
****
14. The Night Canvas
They shunned her- yelled and cringed,
Hurled her to the cobbles
where she lay for the moon.
They hushed when
they saw her staring up with
Eager eyes and
Averted their own orbs and
Hurried on-
Ignoring.
She lay back on the concrete that had
Finally embraced her-
Unlike the whirling life that
Sped past- unwilling to hold out a hand.
She watched the heavens with
an awaiting gaze,
Unbroken by the repulsed,
The horrified and the conceited.
And sighed for the curtains to drop,
For the light to perish and the moon to
Greet her.
The clouds wafted away and
The yellow beacon dwindled and
Burned out, leaving
the canvas she wanted.
The painting sheet filled with
the sprinkling of white.
And the smiling face-
Of her sole friend.
An emaciated finger rises
and joins the dots.
As always, forming the
two words
She knew she would always
trace:
Thank you
****
15. Stolen Childhood
For bricks and mortar
I will give you ten
For fifty newspapers
I will give you five
For tea and biscuits
I will give you two
For factory work
I will give you six
For your sister’s work
I will give her ten
In return will you give me,
A stolen childhood?
For bricks and mortar
You’ll work twelve
For fifty newspapers
You’ll work three
For tea and biscuits
You’ll work one
For factory work
You’ll work eight
In return will you give me,
A stolen childhood?
The grass rustled under his
Emaciated feet.
Accustomed to his fatigue,
His necrotic state.
How are they?
the blades whisper.
I will give you a stolen childhood
If it keeps them alive.
How’s are they?
The wind whispers as it caresses
His starved face.
As well as bricks and mortar
Fifty newspaper
tea and biscuits
and factory work
can keep them.
I have nothing left
Everything is taken
Along with my stolen childhood.
Where’s the laughter gone?
Where’s the happiness?
Or has it all been eclipsed by
the fear,
The fear that my stolen childhood
won’t be enough?
****
16. A Battle In The Heavens
A clash of swords, hurls of battle cries,
Screams of creatures dark.
A murmur of words, flashes of light,
Shouts of creatures divine.
A battle of the natures—
For angels and demons,
Had decided to fight for control,
The battle went on, and slowly receded,
But the spirit which floated in their hearts
Was unwaning,
Until the land was littered with corpses,
And the space was empty save two enemies-
The only survivors of the battle… The battle of natures.
I was born when the Earth was green,
And filled with lush vegetation.
When people smiled and furnished my day with happiness
And were full of acclamation.
But slowly the happiness tired,
And I realized the unhappy imbalance,
That everyone around me had deceived me of.
Fateful was the day when I found out,
That my dear brother, my idol, my senior,
Was willingly abandoning me, to take up a post,
A post as the King of people of the whole world.
How I wept, day and night, thinking of how
I would have suited the throne,
How I deserved the seat more than Him,
How I worked harder, toiled every day of my life,
Admiring Him, respecting Him, Slaving under Him…
And all for this—to be reduced to wearing rags,
And quivering under the shadow of inescapable death.
But still I was waiting, eager for my chance,
Eager for the day when He would crown me King,
Fateful was the day when I heard the news,
The news from His tropical bird (Oh, he has many of those.)
That He had a heir, a heir who stole my future,
A future I had craved for, but which was
A mirage, just a flitting mirage.
It built up in me, slowly and steadily,
A voice of unearthly moans,
Reflecting all the sadness of my life,
Cheated, Abandoned, Robbed
It twisted my mind, but it was a soothing potion,
A potion understanding my misery,
The only thing that understood me in my whole life,
Desperation took hold—I wanted to be King,
I wanted to be King so desperately…
I asked the voice, begged the voice,
To fill me up with its magic droplets,
Speak of a solution, key to unlock long
Forgotten happiness
Droplets of soothing love,
I waited and waited, and finally I heard…
Revenge…
I knew what the word meant,
But I shrank away from its beauty,
Its blinding seductiveness
I locked away the voice, ran away from it,
But the haunting words were bound tight,
And didn’t let go until I obeyed…
Fateful was the day when I
A scream rang out—
A wounded animal, bounding off the
Walls, distancing itself from it’s agonious’ source.
I pushed the jagged metal deeper,
Deeper into the frantic heart,
And was blessed with a fountain of scarlet,
A scarlet stealing the life it gave.
Deeper and deeper, the metal dug,
Until it scraped away flesh,
Flesh from a grave void—empty of life.
And high above, in heavens wrecked,
The demon cackled and the air was
Filled with her evident pleasure.
And nearby, the angel watched, her eyes
Filled with evident sadness, as she saw the
Murder; murder of the only ray of hope—the King.
I was born when the Earth was green, and filled with lush vegetation,
But I know that I will die when the Earth was green not,
But when it was a molten wreck, and when misery resides.
For there is no food, and all my subjects are getting restless
Restless, and wistful of when He was the King.
Far away, the heir wept, and remembered the final hours of
His father’s life… Remembered the words of his uncle—
“Run away, Little One, and then nobody will find out…
If you hadn’t gone looking for trouble in places you shouldn’t have,
Your father wouldn’t have died trying to save you, would he?
Oh what would your mother say… what would she think?
Run away, run away, and never return…”
And his young heart couldn’t see the deceit and the
Cunning in his uncle’s words,
And just remembered the haunting meaning of
The artful blanket, the woven blanket that chased him away…
The angel watched this with curiosity, and suddenly foresaw
A wonderful sight—A King standing proud over forests green,
And civilizations erect and advanced,
And she realized that there was hope after all.
For many years I wallowed in sorrow,
And spent my days of exile in regrets,
And wished and wished, that my dad was
Alive, and watching over me—
Like he had promised…
And one day, I saw a lioness, a lioness
Who was my favorite, and when she noticed
Me, she begged and begged that I would come back,
To become King, the King she knows I am,
The King she sees inside…
I tried to explain, to say my past,
Was binding me to this punishment,
But she didn’t understand, and how could I
Tell her the truth, the truth of who was responsible
For my father’s death…
But then I heard about the starved kingdom,
The subjects imprisoned in their own graves…
And the King within me reared,
And roared its anger and indigence…
I ran and ran, my feet racing the wind…
Until I reached the molten wreck,
And in the destruction I heard one word,
One word which changed the scope of my duty,
Revenge…
I knew what it meant, and made my mind up,
And I swept the sword across the throat…
And I heard the truth… The truth of who was responsible
For my father’s death…
And it was with a lighter heart that I took up the throne, and
Ruled over the molten wreck,
Slowly turning lush and green…