Abdicating Poems

I was dead the day I was born

She looked straight into my eyes; as she sat right across me
 I could see fear right through her, as she mumbled with the thought of my vicious actions
Trying so hard to understand...Read More

The King and I
I have seen the king of Spain abdicating 
in full uniform, but his cap was too small 
this made him look jolly except for his
cane and the small steps of an old man. 
Until recently he looked...Read More

Abdicating the shadows;
totemic.
I return back to dig up the buried-
moon from the ruins of poetry.

It benumbs.
No response was coming from
cajoling the black secrets-
of time-cast.

A storm was raging in a pack
of emptiness. Like a dead fly
between the pages of skulls.
I couldn’t...Read More

Twain frolicked through the meadows, thou and I.
Beautiful dreams of thee brighten mine very soul.
Oh, ill-fated tragedy thou must not forever cry.
Mine future hath been locked with thee in a foxhole.
 
I pledged to thee, mine never-ending love.
Thy purity shines...Read More

My muddied, motherly eyes I turned away
When he looked at her in that lustful way
Drowning my voice as my tongue I silenced
She was my shield against his violence
I had so devalued her existence
That from me he got no resistance
When on...Read More

On the lush meadow
Serene ostrichs rest
Towering it with vigilance
Rheas they seem from distance
Indulging in sweet silence
Counting evey single chick
Huddled under their wide wings
Abdicating as everyone learns survival
Nurturing them with keenness
Demolishing parental worries
Warning them of stinging wasps
Always looking for new victims
Surrounding...Read More

savage was the bond of weakness;
we were hiding behind the pain
of decline, abdicating the singed shrine
of nameless opposition, nowhere the roots
were reaching the bottom of  truth, I ran
like river of life amongst the flames, you try to
resuserstate a dozing...Read More

And he pacing about the house
Had all the time to do
The things he lost time for before
To keep the promises 
He made to himself in each ritual
Morning of his nine to five
And yet as if disenfranchised by opportunity
This switch of...Read More