I remember the city
when it had to be plugged
into black handsets for distant listening.
Conical coral peaks rose up
from sky-blue shallows once -
right here under the entombing concrete.
Nothing grew in that place except heaps and hills.
This city is a garden we have made
out of fabricated conversations;
talk does that, it creates chaos then
it’s expressed the way a concrete reality needs to be poured
into a pre-determined shape to be defined.
Now cellular-phones are growing cellular reefs,
the city recycles these small abiotic words
into mulch and various pressed materials
that form roof gardens:
places where parrots have time to chatter
while evolving into dinosaurs.
Tears within a cage all alone,
In a space too confined to roam,
My companions are these four walls,
Yet, they know nothing of me at all.
Heed my cries as I lose myself,
Unwillingly welcoming the unnatural toll,
Yearning for freedom, bellowing for my health,
Disappearing senses. Life in an abiotic hole.
Look into my eyes, tell me what you see,
Smiling, laughing, poking, Oblivious!
For your entertainment, you have lost the essence of what I am meant to be,
May others be free from a life so insidious.
- A lion, no more.
NATURE'S PHENOMENON
Beauty that is the life phenomenon with the scenic view
But those who can feel it and mesmerise its bliss were very few
A quiet place , with breathtaking waterfalls covered in all mist
Emerging the unmeasurable ocean with its cool breeze
Winds swirling in the blue and limitless sky
It's like a presence of holy heaven somewhere nearby
It's reverence on the earth is so much rare
But the human will never knew and feel it as a spare
From dawn to dusk ,From sunrise to sunset
Biotic and abiotic components compiles like a illusion
Makes the mother nature and changes it's presence with seasons
It helps nurture ones soul, body and reawakens the lost spirit
Owning this earth is incoherent
But we can have its benefits and keep it safe as it was inherit!!!!!
Dated:15 July 2016
This is not life
Façade-glossed eyes
Spilling out
Keeling from inside
This is not
What I traded for a pay check
A calendar space
Insentience
This is not dilated pupils
Suggestive smirks on long open nights
Sidewalk flocks through the blinking city sights
This is antithesis
A nihilistic spectacle
Handfuls of myself
Slung at some meaningless backdrop
Of tedious, grievous facelessness
I am dead weight
Basking in a womb of ruin
DIY
Self-inflicted holocaust,
Ashen, laughing
Swearing that I’ll rise
This is not life
Lying awake
Vexing over lost, losing, perpetual time
Abiotic, unborn
Pressing through groupthink, Stacholm syndrome,
Wondering when I died
A calming agent kept at arms length
there is complete solitude
with end, no beginnings, abiotic view
sure too keep the tragedy to a minimum
Rooms that dangle between fingertips
Mocking, intrusive mocking
a monster given life; feeding off expression
emotion's unheard too be unwell
mind racing without one thought
Holding nothing
collapsed wall of the archived depression
festering darkness takes its place
Crossing the line.
Everything is different, from what they told
hypocrites, thieves, all creepy creatures
Liars they do not lie, because the truth is wrong
Somewhere must be better then this.
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