I know each one, every line
My eyes trace them every day
From dawn’s light to dusk’s dark
One fascinates me, long, curved
It’s history hidden, for me to imagine, build a story
Bisected by others, short, shallow or deeper
Like stems of soft grass maybe
It lays there, reflects light, casts gentle shadow
But is one of many, unnumbered, multitudes
Sometimes still often ambulant
They frame smiles, laughs, sorrow, concentration
Then in rest they return each to its practiced place
For me to gaze upon them once more
Engaging my wonder, my thoughts
Building a beauty I will never forget
Easy to judge by what it seems to be,
More effort to immerse in what we hear.
Take time to talk, there is much more to me,
Before you tune me out, lend me your ear.
Estranged to yours my life seems to appear
Yet I laugh, love and struggle as do you.
Same start, same final and same febrile fear -
To be misjudged for diverse points of view.
Bisected by a biased borderline,
It only seems we are two worlds apart -
For eyes to see, open your closed up mind
Lend me your ear, I’ll open up my heart.
March 18, 2021
Something shifted, in invisible space
Happening fortuitous, by Gods grace
Magnetic pulse from our palms transmitted
Energy divine, never abated
Outpouring gently, at an easy pace
Vibrant with bliss, its origin we trace
To the cave of our heart, our home, our base
Small miracles thus, mindfully detected
Something shifted
Enlivened by bliss divine, face to face
Tranquil and content, no puzzles to lace
With thoughts rested, nothing to be bisected
Silence holds the key; who’d have suspected
Infinite becomes, consciousness wheelbase
Something shifted
10-February-2021
I LOST ME
I escape out of myself today
I sneak out of my mind
I forgot the rhythms of my own heartbeats
I literally got lost in my own world
I think I have lost
My wings to fly
I think I can’t remember the
Tracks in the sky that leads to my muse
I think I have just bisected
The papers of my thought with red inks
I am obviously lost in my own world
Right now;
My legs have run away
My hands hidden behind my back
My eyes too open to see
My ears have failed to hear or listen
My mouth filled with unspeakable words
Indeed, a stranger in my own world
They said, “when words fails
Music speaks”. But the music
Too loud to speak for me
Then you turn it down, it becomes
Too low to be heard
My own world has truly failed me
My ink is drying out
Yet I keep shaking its tips not to.
My pages are running out
Who will borrow me theirs
Darkness evolves in me
As DeMoon, I try to out shine it
But it’s clear that I no longer
Have me…..
motion of planetary bodies
formed mud earth
and India appeared
why save India only
natural phenomenon bisected continent
part sailed to edge
and India appeared
why save India only
murderers of father of nation celebrated
and Hindu India appeared
why save India only
dusty india,sleepy india
minimum india,lockdown india
it's not celestial bodies are now stationary
it's not a northpole southpole tunnel bisected earth
it's the killer omnivirus,greatest medical challenge
dusty india,sleepy india
minimum india,lockdown india
it's not astroid ending world
it's not the nuclear war
it's the killer omnivirus,greatest medical challenge
dusty india,sleepy india
minimum india,lockdown india
it's not transplantation of living lung
it's not stem cell regeneration
it's the killer omnivirus,greatest medical challenge
dusty india,sleepy india
minimum india,lockdown india
Swords lay on the floor
As men fell to the dirt
Some, plunged through with spears
Some, sword impaled
Flies buzzing round gutted intestines
Made a feast of dead ones
Who suffered fatal blows
And had bellies rent open
Babies were snatched from Mothers’ arms
And bisected into equal halves.
With wild grins on savage faces,
Mothers were raped and slaughtered
The heavens watching on in horror
Witnessed the land become a pool of blood
As lives were harvested
By lifeless blades
God, sitting on his throne
Set his elbow on his knees
With his back slightly bent
Regretting every action of creation
My parents were both cut in two,
my mother head to torso, laterally bisected
into equal parts, my father cut slightly off center
into unequal parts, his heart bisected, his head intact.
My parents were cut in two, as if
giant shards of sharp glass
were free falling in the universe.
She happened to be in the wrong place
at the wrong time, he standing next to her,
they were both cut in pieces.
When I look at this picture carefully,
I notice their only daughter so close
by her mother's side, pierced through
at an angel, my viscera partially exposed.
These are my addictions,
this my disorderly conduct,
here is my gore, mixed
with the coffee stains
on the cluttered table.
I go on living like this,
cut almost through,
remembering my parents,
her vacant eyes, his neck wrenched
sideways, wracked with pain,
how they died a thousand deaths
before they both died young.
This is the shard of glass that fell
out of the universe through me.
I go on living like this, hoping
someday I'll meet a surgeon
or discover a way to dissolve glass
before I die young, too.