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Sunday, November 27, 2011


- (an ode to the souls conceived during the earthquake in Japan)

They rock each other, one-on-one
They watch each other,
as their shadows change shape on the wall,
as the candle flickers with every movement
Just one piece away in the puzzle,
as they quake to the rhythm of the Earth below
their forsaken souls entangle themselves
into a myriad different sizes and shapes
of aching muscle, bone and fat
their heart-beats pump in blood,
powered by passion
wating for that final quiver
the one that will make them everlasting...

(Quiver by quiver, we fill the earth
with our presence,
as we pull out stones and melt them
with our imagination -
with each final quiver
a wail is born
that totters to a whine
a lump of perennial desire
that grows, and grows... and grows...
into a bellow, looms a little,
traverses the zodiacs,
and sets into to a feeble whistle
muffled by the waves on the other side
wheezing, trembling, squealing
till you can't hear it anymore
till the bold, furled alpha
disentangles iteself into an omega -
praying, showing us its behind
praying for a successor...)

As they shudder, there is yet another shudder
As the earth climaxes, the world above
trembles, shudders and rebuilds
while the world below recovers
from its own throes of passion
that engulfs theirs, overrides theirs -
their moment of joy buried,
their hopes and dreams - like the concrete
that was once so strong and indomitable,
but now lies in a pile of wreck,
washed away by the waves of a savage sea
that seemed quite distant and meek not so long ago
- one shudder quelled by another

The shadows start jumping around
The walls are no more
As they desperately climb up the walls of ecstacy
just one peek at the other side
just one roll over the edge
and then the fall
it takes with it - all -
the moment of truth
the most ironic conception
the foetus formed at the very hour of doomsday.

Monday, November 14, 2011


"Be careful, I'm a witch" she said
as she stared into my eyes
with the child of light and mischief
gleaming in her eyes
her smile parting her lips,
like I wished mine would
as her hands slithered  up my arm
and her head lowered itself on my shoulders
she looked to ignite a fire
in the dampness of my heart
clearing the moss,
sweeping off the mouldy leaves
brushing aside the shadows
trying to find a dry log or some sawdust
to start her fire with
To my surprise I was looking too
for a speck of dry spot
for us to sit and hold each other
as we danced and rocked each other
like our shadows around an imaginary fire
dancing to the rhythm of the music
only our souls could hear
trying to mend the cold,
her feet on mine, as she held me tight
"Let's give this a chance, shall we?"
Maybe just for tonight
maybe we won't remember crossing the lines
drawing new ones with our tipsy feet
our bodies entwined, our souls in tow
that extended, suspended moment
when the world rocked in harmony
where our feet moved in sync with our heartbeats
that  moment when we cut through the ice
to yield a spark of hope
one short-lived flicker, one brief flash of light
a short spell of warmth
of forgetting the hurt, letting go of the shackles
we were free of the lines, free of the past, the future
all we knew was this moment
generated by her witchcraft...

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

I proudly call me

I lie here in search of the truth
In another world, in another's words
Trading memories
for chunks of liqueur-filled chocolate
In my own hand-made crevasse
I look away from myself
Then within again
Yet I dare not look beyond the apparent, I fear.
The distractions have worked well so far
Tinted bottles and those body-hugging dresses
Now the mind's best friends.
Like driftwood afloat on a wild, adolescent river
Bursting across all borders and restrictions,
The days float on aimlessly, mindlessly
Meaning has taken a back-seat
Futility drives this boat now
Ready to crash-land
Amidst the other wrecks on this consciousness
Thrown up on the shore like Noah
He tried to run as well, didn't he?
I run but the headlights stay close behind
Closing in, the walls on the side too high
I run out of breath, as I yell out
Frantically one last time
One last hope, before I give in
Before the flashlights are inside me
Laying me bare, showing me the truth
Shining on the cobwebs, the filth, the darkness
In this walking, whining mass of rotting flesh
I proudly call me.

Saturday, March 19, 2011


Deep within the heart, a fairy is poised to fly
Her wings flutter in vain as she is caught-
frozen on the icing of a multi-layered cake
Perched atop it
trapped in the hands of a man
in a waistcoat as black as magic,
while her gown flows flawless, falling like snow
Angels on the steps below - ready, arms outstretched.
bracing for the fall, warning, forecasting...
their screams are silent
for they fall on deaf ears
for love is a spotlight that blinds all senses
and all that's above, below and around
this for now is the top of the world
the moment, the happiest of our lives
for we spend all our lives yearning for it
and the rest of our lives learning from it
running away like a fly trapped in the
clutches of a malicious insect
transformed suddenly from a harmless
little spectator in the corner
to the chief justice of your life trial

And as the applause fades into a death knell
you choke in your own claustrophobic dreams,
struggling to escape, struggling to get away
as the insect winds its dark ropes around your eyes...
and later in the darkness,
once the lights are gone,
all but those sacred memories remain.
And then, when memories aren't enough, they part the curtains
wondering what it's like on the outside
and the sunlight stuns their eyes,
flows in through the white lace,
through the glass panes and reveal the mustiness inside.
the muck, the dirt, the mess they have rolled into
The damp, dirty disarray

the cake is eaten, infested and rotten
the gowns are packed away, moth-eaten
as they lie naked, facing away from each other,
a book in his hand and a comb in hers -
she picks up the feathers from the pillows
that were torn apart in passion that had long since died -
evaporated like the sweat their bodies had left behind;
stacks them all together
in one corner and sweeps the floor,
now with a robe on, and he lights a cigarette.
He searches for the ashtray that was never there.
He puts his clothes on, and she hers.
He brushes traces of the ash off his slipppers,
and it melts into the mess on the floor.
Outside, everything seems so beautiful,
they'd love to open the door and let the world in,
they pack their bags, dust the room clean, tidy up the mess,
use the vaccum one last time, kiss each other one last time,
they don't even know what that means anymore
they shrug their shoulders,take one last deep breath
and walk out the door
each from their own end to their own new beginnings,
the room shut, forever in darkness.