Bewildering
Is the experience
Of many seekers of
Nothing..
Complexities and
Assumed
Foreknowledge
Thread through
The teachings ..
Feeding the
Narrations of
Bewildered
Searching...
Hang a left, clunker rocking
on sprung shocks.
Inside,
narrows taper to booths.
The place is slow-time empty.
The staff talk is griddle speech,
a blow by blow banter,
middle finger smarts mixed with
vowels of regrets.
From the lips of waitresses
the clipped history
of shaky affairs
and dead-loss dudes.
False gods named,
Tod, Ricky, and Wayne
a bruised chatter -
ankle-swelling narrations
that break apart unfulfilled.
Food arrives with a woman,
dimples nap in work-weary cheeks.
Her necklace is ink,
yet it hangs over glancing eyes
as a low-cut caress.
She knows I’ve been listening,
yet continues unabashed
a colloquy with my senses.
reciting by rote a silent
'tip-me-big' love spell.
The eye of the beholder created by observer,
ever virtues twilights preserver.
Attraction of beauty and normally,
perception in grace of subjectively.
Spiritual awakening to purpose realization,
seeing God’s face by pure admiration.
Be empty by the extraordinary heart in the ordinary,
intimate exchange with the almightiest faire.
Narrations with the pulse of world written in psalms,
meaningful cosmos radiant contentment spheres.
Tigers eye to sense natures communication,
worlds time by wheel constellation.
The eye of the storm in periods of time,
immortality in Horus eye as protection frame.
Left eye Moon and healing evening star,
five senses to thought so pure and far.
Into the eyes of blessings, joy and grace,
memories of images and his glowing face.
A young prince leaving a palace to find meaning,
to become the eye of the inner universe being.
The eyes of the Lord are towards the righteous,
and his ears toward their cry on all paths wondrous.
Open my eyes that I may behold of your laws,
the eyes of providence and its cause.
How many listen to private conversations
Now let's be honest, it's a natural temptation
As innocent as it seems
Causes a trip to the latrines
Jaw-dropping these pants-dropping narrations
I hang a left, my clunker rocking
on sprung shocks.
Inside, narrows taper to booths.
The talk is griddle speech,
a blow by blow banter,
middle finger smarts mixed with
vowels of tenderness.
I overhear the history
of generations of icons. False gods named,
Tod, Ricky, and Wayne
vicariously share the bruised chatter -
ankle-swelling narrations
that break apart unfulfilled.
The food arrives with a woman.
Dimples nap in work-weary cheeks.
Her necklace is ink,
yet it hangs over my senses
like a caress.
She knows I’ve been listening,
the waitress smiles, continues unabashed
a colloquy with my eyes,
recites by rote
her 'tip-me-big' love spell.
Don’t you know that you are one?
Just like the two sides of a coin,
You need each other to be complete,
And you shall walk together,
For you are forged to be one.
You surely are a union of expectations,
Romantic expectations to say the least,
To love unconditionally and be loved back,
To have a symphony of intimacy,
A Hollywood of romantic narrations.
You are a bank of expectations,
Financial expectations are embedded in your DNA,
For your spending habits shall come to question,
And your savings goals merge objectively,
Management of money ought to be paramount.
You are a honeymoon of expectations,
Ranging from date nights to celebrations,
Shall your anniversary or birthday have priority?
Will both sides prefer mountain to tropical beach?
Will you always celebrate Valentine’s Day?
Don’t you know that you are one?
Just like the two sides of a coin,
Each of you with a different part to play,
For a coin with one plain side,
Lacks monetary value.
I always thought of a word I would use to refer to him,
for he was more than a brother to me.
We talked about space and mysteries for hours.
We went for long walks.
We shared our fears, hopes and dreams.
We joined many clubs in campus heydays.....
One day, our communication was cut;
I couldn't tell whether it was I or him
who had a problem, or wanted time alone to reflect
and meditate about life or oneself.
No phonecall,
No SMS,
No WhatsApp,
No Facebook,
No meeting in town....
The friend I knew disappeared like Atlantis,
only for me to tell people how he was good,
and how he looked like. People keenly listen
to my narrations, as though he was a legend
past gone eons back.
A brotherhood I thought was real and meaningful,
disappeared into the mist of mystery.....
Who resembles you?
A drunken night
Or a jealous star
A colored full moon
Or shy cottage
Who resembles you?
A virgin lark
Or blond flower
Who resembles love?
Believing in you
Who resembles a soul?
Living in you
Who resembles a heart?
Pulsing for you
Who resembles a shadow?
Walking beside you
Who resembles a mirror?
Reflecting your charm
All narrations of the past were illusion
Not resembling you
All butterflies of the world
Were a tattoo in your hands
Not resembling you
All perfumes of the world
Were a wine in your lips
Not resembling you........
A pen rests unreservedly in my lips
Another embraced behind my ear
A ream of paper at peace on my lap
And ink smudges consume my fingers
/
My perception beyond physicality
Mystical enchanters in chorus
Momentaneous fantasies in flesh
And the artistry streams
/
In a foxtrot my pen whirls
Across the ballroom of parchment
Virginal ink smears
And the gala commences
/
Unbeknownst of my environs
Enveloped passionately within my illusions
Adventures given essence
And pressed into a colloquy
/
Not infamous is my name
Nor are my narrations published
But a dream I live for
And a tale to be told
Intriguing this swaying candles flame, trying to convince myself tis but, an aladdins lamp?!
Whispering these words with an amulets charms, dangling about its waist; a world of visions
Kept in this alabasters oblong box; scented aneath rosemary sage and mystic lay with
Incantations butterflies swirling amid the fire of narrations ellipses stage; candles flames
Trying to convince itself tis an aladdins lamp; offering a world in myoptic, bipolar wishes!?
************************************************************************
....“Terrestrial Journals” *
Few Words, Few pictures, News
Thousand narrations to same story
Every day a new story
…
Journalism, an art to write
Whether truth is perceived or false
None care, just write it.
…
Coverage of war or peace
Hidden remains the agenda of brokers
Cameraman with presenter on TV
…
What is shown, repeat telecast?
Same images, and same footage again
As seen on cable TV
…
Magazine, periodicals, articles and letters
People read and contribute searching truth
Some are victims, others spectators
…
Morphed I did see, pictures
Some well crafted, some under bad hands
Every agency has a news
…
Reports, articles, statistics and surveys
Core contents of the daily news papers
2 page news, rest advertisements.
…
New flash, breaking news and updates
Presidential speeches, parliament debates and reality shows
Twenty four seven TV channeled
…
Melodies, drums and orchestra played
Dramas, shows, politricks and business
Echoing; let the shows begin.
…
FT, BBC, CNN, News corp. Siasat
Created, supplied, edited, published, blogged, or uploaded
Chinese whisper crawl in their veins.
…
28.29/04/10
.
hand-me-down myths,
clan's fondest memories
by nostalgia embellished
like ancient monoliths.
hyperbolic narrations,
truer-than-truth legends,
larger-than-life sagas,
happy exaggerations.
old ancestral history,
seeping, coursing down
bloodlines, tribal milestones,
coloring one's genealogy,
east, west, north, south,
its gravitational whirl stirs
generations' imagination,
through word of mouth.
.
Hand-me-down myths,
like ancient monoliths,
clan's fondest memories
by nostalgia embellished;
larger-than-life sagas,
truer-than-truth legends,
hyperbolic narrations
of happy exaggerations;
that's ancestral history,
coloring one's genealogy,
seeping, coursing down
bloodlines, tribal milestones,
its gravitational whirl stirs
generations' imagination,
east, west, north, south
through word of mouth!