talkin’ self-indulgent blues

I’m talkin’ self-indulgent blues,
ramblin’ and a-rolling along,
on cobblestones,
here and there along the alleyways of this life,

seeking not much,
as such,

a few scattered smiles,
after all the miles,
more open roads, less clogged strife,

caravan-serais of hope,
of peace,
where the din briefly does cease,

where simple ways,
of bygone days,

seem cooler than the respite of the shade,
as ages pale,

and as words fade,

I’m still a-walkin’ alone,
flotsam and jetsam blurring my eyes,

as sand gets kicked and the dust flies,
my heart thrashed against cold stone,

while the mirage persists,
the promise of free skies,

still,
just there,
within reach,

slipping further into myself,
as the floodgates breach,

so don’t worry about me no more,

I’m still a-ramblin’ and a-rolling,

and know this too,
for it be true,

it is you,
who remains,

after moulted skin falls,
when the closing walls,
squeeze my straightjacket,

threatening to seal my fate,
into a vacuum-shrunk packet,

no, don’t worry about me no more,
my head is upright,
though my soul may be sore,

but I’m still a-ramblin’ and a-rollin’,

with you,

immersed deep in my core,
forever more …

fool’s corner

tongues dripping language surreal,

rendering eyes, heavy-lidded, glazed,

skidding, incomprehensible,

into the yawning unreal,

scores of ears deafened by words,
deadened by sentences,

inured by scribbles,

that conceal,

love, loss, work, and the sycophantic drool,

intravenously pumped,
through highways,
byways,
              alleyways,
staggering,
beneath the glare of lights,
bright, cruel,

dismissed, despatched,
zealously grinning, winning, sinning,

relegated to the corner of the fool.

fingers ( entwined )

fingers.

entwined,
                 murmuring silent caresses,
                scribbling gibberish,

high above the cresting hopes,
            awash,
                        engulfed,
in the deluge,

of softly soaked-monsoon kisses,

adrift,
           free,
                   fingers, entwined,

teasing responses,
                           enmeshed, fused, between undulating waves,
            crashing,
                            within,
                                        our wordless universe,

in unison,
                 fingers entwined,
our oneness,
                      together, now,

presently,
                 present,

like ribbons and bows,
wrapped,

intermingling amidst shades,
                                   merging into hue,

breathing each other,
                                      in,

all of me,
                all of you.

when you kissed me

when you kissed me,
beneath our african skies,

fattened drops of nectar – heavenly rain,
like honeyed-corn,
fell upon us,
blurring our eyes,

drenching you,
and i,

together, momentarily,
and eternally,
perennially,
immeasurably,

though perhaps still,
’twas illusory,

a sliver of time,
razor-edged, real,

perched between:

passionate reason,

&

desirous rhyme.

on time: the big deal

another new years eve,
that time,

the big deal, the hype,
balloons,
               fireworks,
                                feasts,

the big deal, the razzmatazz,
getting sozzled,

new years eve ?

               

           is this the price,

the label,

                the tag,

        the bottom-line ?

moulting the skins, the shedding of the masks, the casting away, not off, of times’ collected detritus,

no.

that old shot in the arm,
the morale-boosting, fix-it in-a minute happy fuzzy fix,

fortifying the chattel,

           rebuilding the ramparts,

solidifying strategies,

defences,
                 in the trenches,

work,
          life,
                 &,
                    perhaps ‘love’ ?

no,
not that lie.

peddle it not to me.

not anymore.

😇:)

bidding another year adieu

and when i see,
breathe her, her softness a whisper away,

she knows the ache, i fear,
of wanting,
needing perhaps,
the feeling of feeling dear,

not much,
soothing warmth,
enveloped,

our warmth, a light autumn shawl,

her fingers, mine,
tracing sketches, scribbles,
our waltzing fingers entwined,

shedding this year that wasn’t, or hardly was at all,

like so, so many yesteryears,

now long passed,

quietly, threading catacombs crumbling into dust,

gently, reverently,
laying it down, leaving it all far, far behind,

a few shared moments,
of gentleness, warmth, solace,

of pure, innocent, delicious, alluring promise of bliss,

so rare,
            priceless, almost,
           
            almost,
            too rare to find … …

You are All

times’ grating

           sandpaper
           in my eyes

without seeing much
         yet having seen:

you.

and you
              are
                    all i need to see … …

Random Scribbley thoughts of Her

’tis been an eternity,
since i met you,

your eyes,
                 into whose deep
                 depths,
                 cascading within,

                 i would gladly
                 drown,

plummeting into,
all of you,

within you,
your thoughts,

your dreams,

your
waking
fantasies,

oh i would indeed,
if these were not mere scribbles,
                 empty, hollow,

bereft of hope,
entombed in sorrow … … …

🙂

on the futility of time …

on the futility of time …

                     one more chiselled notch
                           carved in my heart

          drawing blood
          raw wounds
          cauterised  

          just as

         another year
                                creeps
          slithers
                                 crawls
          into

          another year … … …

breathless

                 

              breathless

laboured
               tortured

each breath
                     swallowed

greedily gulping gasping

each breath
                    stolen
                               without you

end of year schmaltzyness …

… … … … … … …

there may be no answer,
from you,
from times’ tick-tocking rhymes,

and,
it matters not,

not anymore,

for,
i would truly be blind,

were i not to feel a lost sliver of a breath,

of hope,
elusive,
impossible,
alluring,
addictive …

so i bid you farewell, for now,

but,
who knows,

perhaps,

our paths may,

someplace, sometime,
seek each others’,

however difficult,
those paths may appear,

we may,
yet, still meet,

as sure as this approaching dawns’ hopeful light,

dispels the bleakness,

of yet another lonesome night … … … … … …

a new year beckoning …

a new year beckons, thusly a scribble on trodding onwards 🙂

we have been hurt,
battered by time,
by fate,

we have been stung,
by harsh tongues wagging,

words,
            words,
                        hollow,
  meaningless,
                         harsh tirades borne, colder words, mere words,
            spoken,

meant to jab,
                       prod,
ceaseless,
                 until spirits are torn,
                
                        broken …

   
   

… still,
           we endure,

    still,
           we hope,

for,
      we may be lashed.     against fates’ ropes,

    still,
           we endure,

we cling on,
                     to dreams,
                     shared hopes,

for,

we shall rise,
            
              staggering perhaps,

                but standing,
                never kneeling,

however painful,
                              or sorrowful,

times may be,
for we shall stand,

if,
   if,

we are together,
offering each other,

a warm, soothing hand … …

free as the wind

your strength
                          your resolve

your resilience
                          your warmth

real
       tangible
                       fiery

sparks
            afloat
                      in
                          the
                                 wind

                      unshackled
                     free

to soar
            boundless skies

…

    and i

          who have shared
                monents
                                 or two,

             lost
                    blinded

were it not for you

           gentleness sublime

shared

            in stolen moments

my unseeing gaze meeting

deep
         inviting eyes …

manic me

manic me … …

momentary desolation, fleeting, instantaneous manoeuvring, shifting gears,

creasing years,
hollowed out, spent,
pummeled bluebrown,
barrage of blunt tears,

blinded by fears,

but not today, not now:

today, now,
dreams soar,

of hopeful, peaceful,
less harsh, more gentle years …

the illusion of control

the illusion of control …

… so, life happens,
our infinitesimal plucking of strings,
somehow brings,
an idea, a glimmer of hope,
of control, an illusion really,

of just sort of kind of knowing on the whole,
just how the paths we dream up, are to be tread,

and so,

we weave, we dance,
oblivious to the fickle whims of chance,

we joust, parrying jabs,
picking at wounds,
scratching under scabs,

seeking this, that, whatever,
speeding on highways bound for never,

wearing our hearts on our sleeves, baring all, unashamed,

emotional sentimentality fluttering amongst dead autumn leaves,
starkly transparent,

yearning for that early ache,
that wondrous sensuality of synapses, sparking,
inflaming that early rush,

leaving me numbed,
in my shallow sewer, impotent and dumbed,

wasting away, lost in the well,
where no pebble ripples back

      ___________________

(brb)

(got to let the cat out for reasons only the cat knows)

     ___________________

so where we,
before the cat’s bells began to tinkle,
thankfully not toll,

ah yes,

the illusion of control … …

for Dr. Carl Sagan
1934 – 1996

hope resists!

hope resists …

pain surrounds, closes in,
encircles raw wounds,

picks at scabs,
freshly coagulated,

while stubborn, impertinent, brash, young, ancient hope,

persists,
resists,

as it has,

&

as it shall!

human – merely human

human. merely human …

Mere beings flailing through the quagmire of this life,

Embroiled in this world of emptiness so stark,

Hoping against hope that we find some solace, some peace,

As we stumble along in the fearfulness of the dark,

What are we if not just human…

Grappling with the incessant torturous grind,

The stab of reality that wounds us each day,

While we endure and persevere and with hollow platitudes,

Try to placate ourselves with the veneer of strength which we always portray,

What are we if not just human…

Embracing the world with all the trappings of its convenience,

Deluding ourselves that the trappings will dull the pain,

While innuring ourselves to the outer truths that do surround us,

As we lose ourselves within our very selves,

While we gleefully celebrate the meaningless ornaments that we gain,

What are we if not just human…

Just human,

simply human,

nothing much more and no less,

Praying and hoping for a salvation beyond this realm,

As we attempt to buy redemption with our false gods and our loftily mouthed intent,

While we crawl through the moments of apathy and moral inebriation,

Never truly grasping the very essence of what is to be simply content,

What are we if not just human…

Trying and trying and still trying some more,

To make sense of the senselessness that we feel inside,

While in truth the masks that we wear,

Shroud us more from our very selves, for it so often seems that it is from ourselves, that we choose to hide,

What are we if not just human…

Though we cling on to the scraps of hope that we find here and sometimes there,

What are we if not just human…

If we cannot stop, and think,

and begin to once again to,
simply care,

What are we if not just human…

And in knowing that we are just human,

rekindling the humanity that must reside in us all,

That refuses to smile and stand aloof, while others around us slip and fall,

What are we if not just human…

Finding our feet, as we trudge along the pathways of this life that seems so harsh and at times unbearable too,

What are we if not just human…

If we cannot see in ourselves,

the images of him and of her and of us all,

the images of me and of you…

remember history

remember history

1.

remember the slave-ships,
the manacles,
the trade in human flesh,
sweat and bone,

‘niggers’

senegal liberia sierra leone …

2.

remember the genocide,
the smallpox blankets,
the decimation of many entire peoples,

‘injuns’

sioux, cheyenne, cherokee …

2.1.

( and everything in between )

3.

remember the lies,
WMD,
the invasion,
illegal under international law,
of a country that somehow happens to be rich in oil,
and ruled by an old friend-turned-foe,
you know how these things go,

‘operation iraqi freedom’

iraq …

4.

remember the lawmakers,
of the greatest nation on earth,
who voted to deny human-beings asylum,

‘sand-niggers’

syrian, iraqi …

R E M E M B E R
H I S T O R Y

live life now

live life now

clutching, grasping,
holding onto,

gulping down, hungrily,
each breath, every breath,

fearing the onset of the years,
the splinters of time

embedding,
piercing,

this moment, the very now,

numbed by repetition,
embalmed by trepidation,

of tomorrows yet to dawn,

suspiciously sifting through the strands of greying hair,

seeking clues,
the because to the whys,

the slow mornings,
restless nights,

jabbing reminders,
as years, decades,

scurry, scamper,
flee,
feeling it all slipping away,

standing, immobile,
stilled by the implacable sentinels at the doorstep,

these immovable sentries,
concealing the door,

that leads to today

migrant feet

bleeding feet

bare,
alien,
calloused feet,

that bleed,

trudging,
scraping souls,

seeking paths that lead,

somewhere,

anywhere from here,
from the horror of the now,

wiping bloody sweaty tears,
of grandmothers’ brow,

seeking refuge, sanctuary,

from bullets,

from epithets that wound,
that slay,

from men, always men,

puffed-up, inflated,
stuffed with raw venomous hate,

to be flotsam and jetsam,
adrift on the seas,

crammed into boxes,
clutching onto every choked breath,

seeking another fate,

not an asphyxiated blueish death,

tossed, seasick,
wracked and pained,

inside,
cattle-cars, slave-ships,

modernised mechanised terror,

the horror of self-righteous zeal,

nations, cultures,
tribes, traditions,
creed,

stoking the flames,
sectarian, communal,

the fuel on which bigotry must feed …

tiny feet, old and cracked,
all kinds of blistered twisted feet,

a death march along the treelined street,

seeking only alleyways of peace,

and,
perhaps,
perhaps, a bite to eat,

as gleaming chariots roll on by,

and if you’re thinking you’re safe,

if you’re thinking it isn’t us, its them,

him, her, they, those people,

for now,

think again,
and think how,

“… first they came for the communists … ” *

      
           _____________

* Pastor Martin Niemoller

http://tinyurl.com/oo45esm

faultlines

               faultlines …

jagged faultlines,
sears memories,

singed,
scorched,

ashes swirling in the  breeze,

dust unto dust,
infusing our parched common soil,

with blood,
with tears,

falling, swirling down pockmarked cheeks,

as ceaselessly,

                     as the rolling of the years.

charades

charades

tears bleeding from bonedry eyes,
souls crucified across bloodred skies,

walking and a-talking,
seeing this, that,

wearing soles out,
following the bout,

of wracked nerves,
skewered on stakes,

regurgitated, restrung,
ready to be,
                     once more,

                     wrung,

left out to bleed,

as long as the crowd applauds,

the insatiable beast,
needing new feed.

this migrant skin

this migrant skin.

tin-cans, discarded cartons,
garbage bins,

littered with fragmented shards of myself,

shed, left behind,
amidst by-lanes,

pieces of who i was,
slivers of me,

ever trying to belong,
to be,

so we moult,
social chameleons,

slimy, deceitful,
charming, soulless,

casual, empty emotions,
flung aside here,

bits of that life,
of this,

leaving laughter, pouring tears, down drains hugging boulevards,

strewn with crushed petals.

this migrant skin,
this malleable face,

numberless incomprehensible masks staring back,

a mishmash mosaic,

shadows of yesteryears faces,
worn and torn,

ever straining to flee,

the restlessness growing,
gnawing,

teetering on tightrope,

as year turns to close,
I’ll see if I can find me.

( inspired  by Erich Fried’s “In Hiding” )

flames flickering

two gasping flames,
flickering,

straining,
in disjointed unison,

tripping,
falling,

ashes and rust,
corrosive, acidic,

dust.

automatons

automatons.

bathed in spicy-cinnamon springs,
flying on cotton-candyfloss wings,

kissing darkest-chocolate lips lush,
all else we gleefully airbrush,

yet we feel not a thing,

numb,

dare i say it,
dumb,

and still,
are we not beings,
of flesh and of bone,

or have we mechanised this too,
merchandising, through and true,

cold, deadened,
numbed & dumbed,

akin to a lump of jagged stone.

lie

lie.

as we lie,
awake,

surrounded,
engulfed,
by so very much,

mostly fake,

do we see,
can we,

anymore?

see,
you, me, him, her, us,

the enslaved,
free,

to maul the mall,

bye-buy dubai.

ablaze

breaths interwoven,
tongues tied, waltzing in unison, skipping across tendrils of sparkling sensations, tingles racing through, this being entire, lost in the deluge of your gaze, rendering me mute, inflamed, aflame, ablaze …

apologies

apologies.

walking through this neverending thicket,

thorns jabbing at my side,
cold, shimmering blade,
slicing emotions apart,

as she prepares once more,
to depart,

and settle in some corner of my manic mind,
shedding yesteryears moulting skin,

beating through the thicket,
feelings flailing, to mania akin,

while she leaves and buries herself deep,
in the convoluted recesses of my remaining senses,

having stormed the ramparts,
overrunning all defences,

so tell her I miss her,
and our moments shared,

and tell her that I am sorry,
I was cold.
I should have cared.

fleeing another hide.

what of this shell,
this shroud,
this cocoon, fragile,
familiar,

now untethered,
released,
hearts kicked to the ground,
soaring into gay, abandoned flight,

surfing a silverlined cloud,
unshackled, wings spread wide,

these endless skies ahead,
afloat, away, beckoning,
welcoming,
surfacing from the cesspool of tears shed, bled,
cried,

taken, tugged gently,
away from the freshly moulted:

free,
to surf the cottonwool tide,

free,
to flee, another hide.

frantic verse

searing into blinded eyes, they say tempus fugit – time flies, so lets fly, drift, float,
on dreams, in an old junk,
swaying to the waves,
in a creaking boat, yet sailing against the incoming jibes, breaking free of the tentacled tides, free at last to seek the new day, bidding farewell to the bland, eyes seeking out coconut land, where gurgling brooks, waters pure, may wash away these sins, discarded bluntly over the years, in neatly lined dustbins, weighing me down, as the beach of promise nears, a visual balm, soaking in the marvel, even as the mirage clears.

raw

raw

what is this yearning,
this furnace, this cauldron,

this raging, fiery burning,

this need,
this ache,

these forms, entwined,
between clandestine half-nods,
semi-smiles,

momentary glances,
all those forgotten miles,

yet, still …

intertwined,
wanting, knowing,

the unsaid,
rendered unsayable,

by norms, forms,
blushes avoided,

rituals sanctified,
morals beatified,

while emptiness roams the heart,
as it feels itself,
anaesthetically,
ripped, torn apart,

yet, still …

inflamed by raw,
wild, ravenous desire,

hunger, famished souls,
seeking release,

from this deep freeze,
this styrofoam, inured,
buy-this not that-ness,

these shackles, obliviously embraced,
yawning phoney smiles,

in this world, these walls,
this society, these halls,

this whole racket,

looking back, bamboozled,

as to how one slipped so comfortably into,

this disturbingly comfortable straightjacket.

2 in 1 Scribbles

do you sometimes feel it too,

chords strummed,
drums clanging,

a
jazzybluesygrassey,

thud-thudding of your heart,

beating, banging,
clanging like the tolling bell,

seeking release,
from the mortal shroud,

as the curtains fall,
over rapturous hurrahing,

down at city hall,

attaining atonement perhaps,

attaining the value of patience,

perched on top,

a
lone,
cloud …

come take a stroll with me,
to your piece of heaven,

be it the bylanes of your childhood,
or the alleyways of your youth,

come take a stroll with me,
to your abode of peace,

a gurgling brook trickling down distant mountains,

the roar of the oceans lappin, caressing your feet,

come take a stroll with me,
down blinding highways of lost smiles,

across empty deserts, sapping already famished wills.

come with me,
and i will stand by you,

so,
come along with me,

where we may be,
at last,

finally,
free to be …

talkin’ walkin’ along blues

talkin’ walkin’ along blues …

been a-walking awhile,
seen much,
heard bits,
scraps of yarns,
spun around the fires,

igniting cores,
huffing at social mores,
while a-walking along,
donning the masks,
of the strong,

in this cesspool,
where people fester in swamps,
because they isn’t anyplace else,

it was always all just fairytales,
meant to placate,

to buy time,
before truth portrays,

the real crime,

till then,
whenever the when,

betraying scars,
of endless wars,

to protect you,
as tsunamis flog hearts,
&
emotions like a whip,
cracks and lashes,

ashes to ashes,
dust to dust,

ashes in the breeze,
dust back interred,

the charade,
the party,

at all costs,
&
everhence,

preserved.

the happy face

coming up …

surfacing,
washed ashore,

gasping,
wracked in bronchospasm,

swallowing every breath,
hungrily, manically,

feeling my eyes clear,
sounds and smells filtering back,

edgily,
languidly,

between lungfulls of air,

and an emptiness left behind,

torn between spaces,
illegally alien,

to oneself,

the most desolate place,
sometimes,

lies beneath the veneer,

of the ever smiling, happy face

smile

let us walk,
knowing not the paths ahead,

let us talk,
knowing not each others tongues,

let us breathe,
the simple joys of life,
away from shredding strife,

so, take my hand,
in yours,

and let us walk and talk,

through many tears,
and an occasional smile,

as we walk on,
and on,

past our final mile …

the city

the city …

leaving behind,
tears, fears,
of unknown tomorrows,

of lifes nettles strewn along the paths we tread,

far far away, from the numbing dread,

the despair, isolation, the damp sorrow,

while the city,
ravenously guzzles,

souls,
spirits,
hearts,
minds:

the city,
never sated,

ever prowling,
to be fed.

high …

wishing i could take your hand,

and walk away from these walls that close in,

suffocating hopes, living and breathing within,

us all,
human beings,
just people,

like you and i,
so close, so very near,

yet exiled by infinite sky,

always seeking release,
freedom,

as we rake the dust,
ready to soar,

up high …

scars

the nights of desolate fear, may have passed,

the days of infinite trepidations, may have waned,

yet the scars remain,

as does the pain …

the fabric of time …

when will i see your smile,
near me,

feeling your warm breath against mine,

when will i feel your touch,
beside me,

peppering your kisses with saffron whispers,

when will i hear you,
your lips against mine,

cajoling me, again,
to wait,
just
a little
longer,

while i whisper back,

knowing the hunger,
to remain stronger,
painting on the smile,
of the mirthful dream-monger,

while keeping at bay,

the raging cauldron
ablaze,
within my being entire,
sizzling, scorching me to the marrow,

the unsaid charade,
theatre for the conscience,
played out,
and in,

just beneath the veneer,

of dreams,
of you,

cascading through,

seducing the fabric of our shared time,

so clear,
crytallised, pristine,
delicate,

yet, yet,
steely,

and
sheer.

why …

will we ever know why,

people are randomly broken,

infinite hurtful words spoken,

and will we ever know why time flies,

leaving us all,

twisted and cynical,
sterile, clinical,

as we race,
chase,

on,
ever onwards,

obliviously,
gleefully,

headed for that inevitable,

invisible wall.

today, everyday …

wrestling desire,
parrying,
jabbing,

living, knowing,
a bittersweet ache,

burning,
inflamed,

a furnace of passion,
cauldron of need,

as muted,
as the eye of the storm,

fleeting, momentarily,

before,

howling ferociously again,

deafening,

till souls cry out for release,

seeking only peace,

simple solace,

from today,
everyday.

vox-populi

futility, helplessness,
grates, corrodes,

so many fragmented aspirations,

flung aside by howling winds,

vile, profane,
coarsely oblivious,

coding unintelligle odes,

formatted,
loaded with presets:

default modes,

randomising fate,
prefiguring chance,

elementally,
bits & bytes,

the power is in your hands,

vox-populi, rejoice!

ps: just so that you always feel that you always, always have a choice.

i remain awake

wake me up when we have left,

all the festering detritus of strained emotions,
lost,

buried down alleyways of hateful forgiveness.

nudge me when we are at peace,
within altleast,
if not without,

or else,

allow me slumber,

sinking into the arms of embracing night,

offering me alms,
cajoling, insistent,

far too tempting,
wickedly alluring,

and,
so,

i am awake.

tick-tock …

when the walk hobbles,
and the talk slows,

when so many years take their toll,
when wrinkled, grey,

the passage of time,
creases smiles,

just knowing you,
my lifeline,

still,
enriches my life,

mile upon gathering mile.

?

?

splintered wings,
kicking dust,
seeking release,

bound, humans,
bereft of feeling,

while,

caged souls,
bereft of hope,

wills strangled,
spirits mangled,

wane,
wither,

away …

… all for a few laughs,

perhaps,
a couple of giggles,

some people amused,

fleeting,

this interest,
novelty,

but for the caged ones,
whose open skies lie broken, tattered,

caged souls,
hearts,

wills,
resolve,

now brittle,

having felt the stab,

of dreams dashed,
hopes shattered.

pseudo-philosophical scribble …

a quasi-philosophical scribble …

whispers echo,
stumbling, crawling,

caught in sandstorms,

trudging across deserts,
strewn with famished hearts,

staying afloat,
somehow,
ceaselessly bashed by merciless tides,

gasping for breath,
deep in oceans of misplaced tears,

ever wary of tomorrow,
as another dawn nears,

carrying the scars,
scabs still unhealed,
raw,

souls battered,
sliced by the elements,

fate, destiny,

while,
free smiles are caged,
remaining shackled,

mangled,
through myriad threads,
hopelessly entangled,

here, now, today,

drowning out the whispers of hope,

love reigned in,
back to now,

away from placid streams,
far from sunsoaked dreams,

to awake back here,
without you by my side,

as years shamble on,
exhausting my weary eyes,

dripping blood,
shedding tears,

with nowhere,
nowhere at all,

left to hide.

dreamscapey skies

couldn’t we just escape,
for an hour or two,

lost in the depths,
of each others eyes,

free at last,

to touch peace,
serenity finally,

on the canvas,
of dreamscapey skies.

supermoon beams

struck by supermoon beams,
my nights devoid of lifes nectar, of hope, and of dreams,

are at once, suddenly, emblazoned, painted,

awash in the hues of your smile,

sketched, engraved,
carved in the rainbow shades of your thoughts,

your eyes, free,
unfettered, unshackled,
shedding the burdensome weight of lies,

knowing well how merciless,
fickle,
time flies.,

so allow me to drown,
in the ocean of your eyes,

we’ll fly together,
away from it all,
forever skipping monnbeams

all across,
your dreamy skies.

on nationalism

When it all comes to pass,

enmeshed,
hewn into the detritus of splintered glass,

sharpened shards cutting deep,
pilfering dreams from wakeful sleep,

looking around,

treading on hopes,
yanked to the barren ground,

smiles and laughter,
famished and broken,

suffocated by slithering words,

scampering away,

leaving limp tongues,
fluttering flags,
jingoistic pride,

ever on,

fostering noxious words,

hurled,
flung,

nonchalantly,
well-meaning,

pompously spoken.

yearnings …

the warmth of your breath,
scorches my skin,

scalding me,
tattooed,
alongside the walls of my rambling heart,

beneath the many hued veils,
embalming aches that jab,
prod,
incessantly assail,

yet still,

’tis you,

yet still,

’tis your being,

that,
always,

&

evermore,
shall prevail.