//M’a//
When my muzzle pressed on the
Plain surface of the world
I yelled for escape
M’a opened the window
A patch of rays rushed in
from the outside rain
I was born.
I clung to grab
her only wild beauty
and satisfied my survival hunger
I crawled to fist my shelter
Under her unconscious cloth
which carried many abstract paintings
with my nose stuff
Which wiped many prickly pimples off my body
And put my existential pages under a tent.
M’a had a mirror
Cremated on her wall
Sometimes revealing a face
with a vermilion signature of her sex mate
in-between her eyes
She changed her colour like an old book
Much used and much abused
Metamorphosed her body
That has sucked many pains and virus in it
absorbed mutely the noises in and around.
Reduced to a clay bulk
one day,
M’a’s absence realized
in her presence
in her absence
but
she looked and looked for a void
and expressed her reluctance
to stretch her lips
like an archly moon and
feared that her remaing teeth might fall off.
When a photographer asked her to smile
for family pension
She withdrew
and loved her only life
The mirror lost an image.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
//Cry//
Slowly
When the silence muttered noise
She cried like
a music
blend of
old notes
often heard at sea shore
or with serpentine harp.
Happiness has no speech
Sadness groans sobbing pain
One could never outline a
Lie or cry
She but cried
with a few words galloped
I could neither understand nor escape
A world that remained in why
She cried a cry
through time
through space
but
the world has no time to listen
the sound of love
the sound of pain
the sound of hunger
the sound of nothingness
The night rolled on.
When the silence muttered noise
She cried like
a music
blend of
old notes
often heard at sea shore
or with serpentine harp.
Happiness has no speech
Sadness groans sobbing pain
One could never outline a
Lie or cry
She but cried
with a few words galloped
I could neither understand nor escape
A world that remained in why
She cried a cry
through time
through space
but
the world has no time to listen
the sound of love
the sound of pain
the sound of hunger
the sound of nothingness
The night rolled on.
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