Intersection of sword and floral stem,
a hummingbird’s beak, glimpses
unforeseeable cross.
The roots of man go so deep
Some little rodent perhaps
Thoroughly relieved the dinosaurs
Are at last all gone.
And here and now
Always a mid point between past and future
The future likewise unforeseeable
Other than a vague sense of continuity.
From that future
A hundred million years from now
This past I sit in
Will be as unknown and unrecognizable
As my little mammalian ancestor’s.
Does this make it all meaningless?
Hell no!
It makes each step and stage
Miraculous.
(8/11/26)
Drab life-walks, through a method
Unforeseeable is
Re-daubed and re-enlivened;
None to call fate miss.
As these, on the way to where
As such times forget!
Which old friend or which new flame
No sooner have met.
the
pictorial
transformed
categoric
metaphors
of
affinity
inseparable
receptibility
in
conjurations
never-before-seen
an
impulse
changeable
summation
coexist
with
unforeseeable
particulars
simple
self-evident
without
pretence
in
dazzling
contemplative
concepts
visualised
in
potential
imminent
utopian
ideals
Something caught between the eyes of fellowship and the riddle of thought makes any setting unforeseeable. Yet, within the mannerisms of those declawed by the very societies they themselves conceived armed only with a utility belt of miraculous misconceptions springs forth exponential, autonomous growth, promised by the ancestors of preconceived notions.
Most often, the spirits of ideas formed upon the fragile spine of inadequate frequencies press us all into a reliable destination, one mastered only through performances of unseen archetypes, driving this windowless vehicle we insist on calling time.
My augmented delusions, I admit, disassociate from the fermentation of your reasoning, and so taint our deductive search for the emotions we struggle to preserve. The tropes of an enigma’s fragrance intoxicate the cerebral moments of free thought, undermining even the simplest reproductive solutions for advancing communication.
And so, as I tear this parchment, I summon an opportunity. Yet what a cumbersome opportunity it is.
Just stop thinking about it,
Don't bother losing yourself to it,
Stop getting your mind overclouded
Don't overthink about it.
Past's not gonna change
Present's in your hand,
Future's awaiting you,
So does it take that long for you to realise;
Time always flows like river,
Everything that you wrote in sand of time,
Now flies, all erased.
Heartaches and smiles never will fade
Cause this present will become the past
So don't rewind back in memories
It's time you stepped out of the past , grab your present and run towards the future.
Take all the twists and turns,
It's fate, following your addicted brain,
In its fabulously misguided taste,
To that unordinary life you seek.
Time will record your past,
Actions will define your future,
Don't worry about the leap I am taking,
Cuz I feel like I am losing myself ,
Losing my mind,
Losing my mind,
But I love this wild ungrounded feeling,
Of losing myself to the unforeseeable future
There are things that were never said.
After this loss is inexplicable, heart wrenching, sad.
Nobody expected you to vanish, to leave us behind.
I'm just looking for an outlet, for a way to unwind.
All that's left are pictures, memories.
Recalling the last time I saw your face, deserted, I sit here as my soul cries.
Being alive is a gift---
I want to remember your existence, and use it to uplift.
My heart is split into a million pieces after your loss.
Things will never be the same, and God only knows what I will come across.
Time is too precious to waste, don't let it slip.
I wish I didn't have to take, this melancholic trip.
Until we meet again in the afterlife.
I will celebrate you with my actions, throughout my life.
Overbearing it is, this deep, unforeseeable sorrow.
Realizing that there is no promise, of waking up again, tomorrow.
A prediction for the unforeseeable
the somehow mishaps inescapable
and accidental omen to avoid
the illogical cat's-paw of capricious fate
irregular in it’s certainty
and a trip into oblivion's insecurity
And quick with madness comes within the snag of its trap
a fearful searchlight hunting darkness for an exit
a safety-valve to escape this orderly chaotic
to rape the mundane of it’s blessed intellect
stupidity is the face
indecorously it anticipates, the sporadic
Creating calendars and hours in tempos measurements
an organized emporium of disorganized events
occasionally indeterminate is its recompense
for the all too steady flow of time
the clock springs of the aeon
digitally unwind
With no embrace to harmonize the anarchy
instead the well ordered dystopia of make believe reality
and chaos simply is too simply out of control
and all this life is far too erratically, unpredictable
so save this lunacy, save it from the clown of chance
luck would keep us sane
all ribbons and bows keep it in a well presented box
and if by the enchantments of its chain
save us from the risky cat’s paw of capricious fate
SCENE OF ADULTERY
At the far edge of a town,
Where all roads lose their tracks,
There is a tavern that camps all birds.
The ones that fly away from their cages.
Singing songs of freedom,
Flapping their wings to the prospect of imminent pleasure.
One after the other they go meandering,
Skirting from idle eyes that sit at every corner,
And swift tongues that tell of tales unseen.
See them scurrying away.
Rushing like sheep to the house of slaughter,
Where in a trice, they douse in the sins of the flesh.
Wondering why they took that long walk down the aisle;
Embarking on a journey of such unforeseeable perils,
Wishing they never said I do.
At last, when the charm of desire has waned off,
And the call of duty appeals to their limbo consciences,
They comb their nests, leaving behind no trace of evidence.
Along murky corridors, they cast unseeing eyes,
And return acknowledging nods to passing comrades.
Each bond to the other in silence, by shame.
One before the other, they sneak out,
Filled with a mix of pleasure and guilt.
Often vowing never again to return.
To this scene of adultery.
To speak the unspeakable
Will I ever get to tell you
The truth will set you free
How much you mean to me
To think the unthinkable
Just to think about you
A you and me fantasy
Sets my spirit free
To hear the unhearable
I long to whisper softly
Words not meant for me
The softest "I love you"
To touch the untouchable
hunger for your soft caress
Unknown ecstasy
That says you love me too
To want the unattainable
you don't belong to me
Trying to succeed
But know I'm always here
To restrain the unrestrainable
Fighting to respect the vows
Walls internally
Of virtue held so dear
To dream the undreamable
It's not reality
Stretching boundaries
But hope will keep me strong
To foresee the unforeseeable
Until the day I find myself
A date with destiny
With you, where I belong
Have you seen changing of colours?
World shifting thoughts without insight
Mellifluous tones making way for cacophony
Drums buried beneath shambles,
And people returning to the jungle,
Craving roots and leaves
As life becomes spooky affair
The world changing patterns,
As beauty becomes an obstacle
Have you witnessed the unforeseeable?
Mountains becoming smaller
Flower refusing to bloom
Nature giving up its mandate,
Moving away from positivity
Negativity embracing every creature
Inducing evil forces to celebrate with pride,
As the world falls apart
Hope assuming new meaning,
As happiness sink underground
That's how the world has changed
Love making way for hostility
Ignorance taking center stage
People searching through garbage
To find reasons for immorality
Taking journeys to the wilderness
Coming back with more grounds for deviation
Goodness plummeting deeper
As the world changes faces
The companionable ills, short heavy breaths
with which I force the wind into my blood,
chill and whisper- that I am not 'complete',
that my youth has 'run dry', and yet this poison lets
me the world unfolding with unforeseeable possibilities:
the jut skulls of mountains, fields of ripening wheat,
ubiquity rising like a dove above the landscape
and thundering down along the troubled feet of the city,
I am at home with my lonely sorrow.
Thunderous palpitations upon benign sedaments,
Miscreants vindicate with justice of six cents.
A vociferous tyrannosaurus bursts sickly
Sanitized wives and rodents scurry very
Sedately towards dainty cliffs and heights
Of unforeseeable depths-withered sights.
A Persian rug is spread across garnered grounds
Before touring gypsies which please sound.
Great stories gather precariously on the head
Of a pen sent from hapless flutters in bed-
Sensations traverse a thing called a universe,
Discoursing various travesties as a nurse.
In gambits trained by substantial lapels
And triumphant whores who cast spells
Of priority towards declining propellers.
But, you're right, titanically proportioned cells.
Dwelling in tumultuous storms just to feel,
To melt the ashes of memories, means to heal.
Neglect the skeptic who's late for dinner
Skinning prunes and my meat suit's a winner.
Standard debasement sits beside youth
Stinking of stale sex and sweat of a sleuth
In the waiting room planning substantial
Equations translating to aliens:
We're still here...
I gaze upon a beauty
that I can never grasp.
You are forever changing
as the years drift pass.
Shrouded by night, suspended
in darkness so I appear to you.
Bathed in light, watched by another
and I hide from view.
A Mother, a lover a giver of life
if only we were one.
I'm just a barren landscape, you give
me meaning though your work is never done.
We belong together, we are
in a perfect balance.
I am forever staring;
I am in a trance.
You have been witness
to my change of face.
I have a darker side
that you can never trace.
I'm held from you by
an unforeseeable force.
I journey around your light
as I run my course.
All I have to offer you is
my unwavering attention.
Night and day I travel
without any comprehension.
Of what is on your surface,
you give life but to who?
I'm often left to wonder what
dwells within the green and blue?
I may be nothing to you but you
mean the world to me.
I am just a simple moon,
but oh, the things I see.
An attack of this magnitude
was completely unforeseeable;
and who thought that an unguarded city
had to feel that sense of solitude...
through an urealistic exodus so undiscernible,
and later reclaim its struck territory!
What we lost...is not the superb Twin Towers:
the pride of the wealthiest nation on earth,
towers that can be rebuilt in years;
it's those lives that enmity cut short!
And they tried to disorientate us,
and disrupt our ingenuous and lively living
by spreading unrest and choas
with absurd and infernal thinking!
This infamy is so ineffaceable
from the mind of the unfoolish,
fair and reasoning man with greater intellect...
that it becomes so inexplicable;
a shameful act not condoned by civilization,
confirmed by unsympathetic sentiments!
What we lost ...is truly irreplaceable
by every imaginable remedy:
its the worth, the comfort and the unbroken joy,
which dazzled in the NewYorkers' eyes...
making their days so livable!
What we lost...is eternally
carved out into those shining stones:
bearing glorious names to withstand time itself1
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