By hush of Mortal Footstep—
He wandered—unannounced—
A Solitary Pilgrim—
By common Dust uncrowned—
No Trumpet cleft the Meadow—
No Witness marked the Sky—
Yet God—was near as Breathing—
And nearer—than the Eye—
He walked—until the Evening
Unfastened from the Sun—
And Earth—released its Grasp of Him—
As if the two were One—
No Marble told his Story—
No Dirge—disturbed the Air—
But Silence—like a Chariot—
Conveyed him—Everywhere—
O rare Translation—granted—
Without the pang of Clay—
To vanish into Glory—
As Dew—escapes the Day—
The Upside Down Tree—its Roots in Sky—
Its Branches clutch the Clay—
It drinks from Light instead of Earth,
And blooms the backward Way—
Its Leaves are Thoughts—unfastened—free—
That fall—yet never land—
They rise—like Prayer misunderstood—
By Gravity there Held—
The Trunk is Time—reversed in Grain—
Each Ring a future Past—
Where What we were has not occurred,
And What will be—has passed—
The Birds that nest—are Doubts and Faiths—
They sing in Counterpart—
One chirps of Loss—the other Hope—
Both roosting in the Heart—
No Axe may fell this curious Wood—
No Storm may make it yield—
For Truth—when planted in the Air—
Refuses to be killed—
So stand beneath its falling Roots—
And learn what few have known—
That Heaven grows the way it must—
When Earth is overgrown —
To loosen Life — from eager hands —
And set the Spirit free —
Is not the loss the timid fear —
But rarest Alchemy —
To watch Desire — unfastened — walk
Beyond the margin’s keep —
To bless its flight with silent eyes
And no attempt to leap —
Detachment is not cold — nor hard —
It is the higher Flame —
That warms without consuming things —
And leaves the Ash untouched by name —
I held the World — too close — once —
It bruised me with its weight —
Now I behold it — as a Star —
Adored — but separate —
The Heart instructed yet renounced
Learns richer How to feel —
For what it dares not clutch at all
It knows at last — is real —
Was it off-white?
A cavity on the hem of my socks
Undulation,but palpably grazed
like the letters you never unfastened
I set sail for my untrimmed toenails
A cavity on the edge of my nail plate
“Ma, its uneven”
Notes, chords, and bolted doors
Inaudible, I pulled more thread
Attenuated, I pulled
The darkest possible color
Reached my wavering fingers
“Ma, it wouldn’t look good”
Chortled, was something funny?
I couldn't catch it
“Ma…my needle broke”
Rainbows glimmered after a laugh
I'm thirsty
My sock is missing
Two large figures left the room
Loose clothes
And covered feet
“Ma, my thread is thin”
In the hallways where whispers cut deep like a knife,
I walk with my head down, hiding my strife.
You're just thinkin' it's a small thing that happened,
But the world ended when it happened to me, unwrapped and unfastened.
Each taunt and each jeer, they echo and cling,
A chorus of shadows, they steal all my spring.
With every harsh word, I feel the weight grow,
In a sea of indifference, I’m drowning, you know.
You laugh and you jest, but you don’t see the tears,
The scars that I carry, the weight of my fears.
I long for a moment, just one hand to lend,
To show that I’m more than the target you send.
It was a memorable evening, bright
with my beautiful, charming fiancé
(once my wretched, tormented heart's delight)
near the old village of Fatheringay.
Drawn by the lilt of a whispery voice,
we found ourselves in a dark, rustic pub.
An inner misgiving questioned our choice.
A man served drinks from a hook on a stub.
After imbibing a strange, bubbling brew,
we dawdled the full moon-lit countryside.
In the lunar light, her eyes shone light blue -
mine, a phosphorus glow, like Mr. Hyde.
We gazed at the Hydra constellation,
where the Ghost of Jupiter nebula
somehow unfastened my reservation,
as its image fell on my retina.
That my grandfather was a lycanthrope,
and a mad cascade of serpentine thoughts,
this myriad of disclosures doused hope
(a demented disconnection of dots).
The vile dreams would slither back to their hole
too late for my near bride of eighteen.
The strong brew's effects had taken their toll.
My love was never again to be seen.
No, my true love was no more to be seen.
The
metaphysical
of
human scale
counts
spectral closeness
centirely
of colour
flanking form
in
extreme
asymmetry
lateral
inflections
continuity
presence
of verticals
with
unshakable
&unfastened
by
zips
of
speed &energy
in
areas
&planes
subtly inflected
monochromatic
partitions
textured
& with
irregular effect
in
visual tension
of
contrasting colors
Labouring like ants and bees, humans of goodwill gather
Being sloth-filled like sloths, does one have the right to scatter?
With nobleness, each being should acknowledge the other
If one fails to hail the other, will the other bother?
Those who help others in the accomplishment of mission
Those who join their neighbours in their battle against Satan
Such as these would follow you, carrying daily crosses.
Sharing each of your gains, they would also share your losses.
Humans, in their conspiracy to mar others, blasphemed
Forgiving these, towards them, your forgiveness unfastened
As scorpions and snakes venom those who try to save them
Their abhorrence towards those who saved them was at its helm.
Why should one oppose the truth and chock another's graces?
To be saved, should one roam holy places after places?
"When threads of love are frayed,
a heart is left threadbare and broken."
~ by poet.
Threads from my yesteryears remain in tact
A few have come unraveled; as a matter of fact
There is one that I've tried to bury with a shovel
But they all live in my mind, trapped in a hovel
They are loosened stitches, frayed at the seams
Reminders of what once were hopes and dreams
Threads I pulled that caused weeping and grieving
and knots I untied, which unfastened the weaving
But not all threads were weakened by my hand
It does not soothe my tender heart to reprimand
for spools have levels of denier, different filament
Can love be salvaged with threads of lament?
It only took one single thread to tear us apart
A twist in the warp that stopped beating in one heart
Flimsy is the threefold cord when one doesn't care
No patching can ever mend a love that's threadbare
A seamstress I would choose to be so I could repair
tattered threads of love from too much wear and tear
Through the eye of a golden needle, I would sew
with silver thread to mend what we shared long ago.
I enjoy your storm;
Those flashes and thunder claps
merging with my dark;
Now if my teddy gossips?
It won’t be filled with this truth;
My words were hung up;
Stuck, before you unfastened
everything inside;
Comforting so soft and warm,
always gentle with my heart;
Trusted with my prose
this firmly tied diary,
holds all my longing;
The way to make my voice catch?
Such secrets should not be told.
You are my passion
You are my Poseidon
My depth of my despair
My depth of infinity
You are my weakness
You are my bane
My fear of destruction
My heart's fierce desperation
You leave me unfastened
You are my memory the memory of me
You are me my broken reflection
My head, now a boiling cauldron
From my pen, thoughts bleed red,
in a broken stream muddled up
They do not have a neat flow
They come out in squirts,
leaving scarlet stains,
a monochrome of blotches of hurt and sadness
Still I feel such instant relief,
as the latch of a cage being unfastened
to let out the birds of pain fly far
March.9. 2022
New Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France
And at dawn's
Bow to dusk by
Each day's end,
She bedded in her
Unwindowed Lonehut,
Skinned of thatch,
That she too may sleep...
She would shut her eyes,
After shutting her door,
For sleep that ever ignored
Her crave.
For in her dreams, a thousand
Shadows chased her into the sea
That steered directly at her thatchedhut.
And in it, sharks, in their schools, would
Expel her, and she would awaken and
Rain would depart from her eyes to her
Bed through the remainder of dusk
Till dusk died down and dawn redawned.
She unfastened her canoe by sunlight
And sailed along with other fishers
Who ever preached to her about her
Beloved hut.
But defying all, she ever returned to it.
But unlike she couldn't afford anew one,
But because she just craved to...
And one day she slept and her soul,
In the otherlyworld,
Noted that she had had enough sleep,
Moved to awaken but could not...
Her friends, the fishers, well aware of
Her long absence around and ashore,
Made for her hut; force-opened its door,
For being silent to their knocks,
And what they saw was why
Humans ever shake heads sideways at
Sad-news and in sadness...
Oh Death, Why Are You in a Hurry to Embrace
Oh death, why are you in a hurry to embrace?
Why haven't you forgot the way you are told
Or enjoy a peaceful nap under a date palm ,
Or on the river beach under the wintry sun ?
Why haven't you forgot yourself completely
In the beauty of the mystified world
And passed decades after decades
Forgetting the order of your Lord ?
Oh death! why are you in a hurry?
Sit here calmly like an obedient child
And let me finish some important tasks.
An implored pleading for a little time,
Or it may take a little more,
To execute some promises by your Lord's name,
To unfastened a knot fixed with love and affection,
To cut the platonic love for life developing since the day of birth.
Sky – quakes
Air-whales’ flipper prowls
Obscurity rakes…
Bidding adieu
Dark Mountain Hade-shades
Fears brew…
Unfastened hawks
Times’ temperature snow-cold
Gloom rocks…
1.
06-04-2021
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