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Best Poems Written by Le Incendié

Below are the all-time best Le Incendié poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Prince Charming and the Mermaid

Pelting shapely pebbles into the lucid lake,
Lonely, among daffodils and golden mandrakes,
And rejoicing the dance of silver flakes,
A delicate penumbra catches his fancy great,
And in a sweep, away, his heart does take.
Ruthless in love and incredible in stake,
He dives deep down,
Into his own grave.

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Visual Blur

The Cannabis Queen
Rides her Snow Chariot
A glass shard still remains in his heart
And his heart still remains ice.
This is his true state of existence.

He worships the Queen,
Because now, all is pure,
White and still.
He kisses the back of her palm
In deep submission
She smiles and takes him to her lap
And together they ride the snow filled country side.
Here, there is only love,
Only acceptance,
Redemption and forgiveness.
Together they merge into the fog,
Their silhouettes lost in a holy blur.



In a cold secret chamber,
The maid and the drunkard make love.
She kisses him not,
For his mouth reeks of wine.
N yet she clasps to him and does not let go.
There is,
Such passion,
Such want,
That nothing stops her from having him.
And as she moves rhythmically on top of him
She looks into his eyes
Where the power of wine
The power of an orgasm
The power of a sleepless night
Blur into a holy blur.



In a place called Xibalba
Through which the dead pass
From the confinement called life
To the liberation called death
One soul readies to take the plunge,
To come to terms,
To be one with the eternal.

In one cosmic leap, the soul
Splits into a million tiny pieces,
Of its many laughs
Of its many cries
Of its many loves and hatreds
And its each tiny emotion
Each tiny memory
That came to be in its journey through life,
Becomes a star,
Studding the eternal silver sky,
And transforming it into a holy visual  blur.

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The Whore From Faridabad

Kajal* in her lids, circling her plastic eyes,
Doll eyes that seem unreal.
Single rose perched atop her bun.
The red matching her blouse and her lips.
Her beady purse dangling by,
Shimmering in the neon light.
The whore from Faridabad...

Men saunter by...
Watch her reflections.
Her bright silver necklace,
Her flowing ear drops.
Watch her with mocking eyes,
Her integrity ridiculed,
Her essence defamed.
The same men who subvert to her in the darkness.
Their stark souls, stark naked bodies exposed.
The beast in them clinging and clutching.
Embraces sans love.
Submissions sans redemption...

In the creaking red room, in the timber wood bed,
Her heart stays mute. Her stare stays cold.
As passion ploughs over her.
Again and again till her body is benumbed.
She has nothing to lose.
She had nothing to lose.
The cradle of lust.
The melting pot of all human desires.
The whore from Faridabad...
With doll eyes that seem unreal...

In the rain filled night,
Little Biju comes running.
His soiled brown shorts pinned up with a safety pin.
His nose catching a whiff of her perfume.
His monsoon catch fluttering,
Pining to fly away,
The dragon fly...
He sits on her lap.
She fiddles through his hair.
And together they steam off,
Paper boats off the puddle's coast.
And like a twin lightning ripping across
The strangeness of the night skies,
Two shrill laughters pervade the monsoon airs.
Full of love.
Full of mischief and sunshine.
Her eyes moistened with the laughter...
Her doll eyes that seem unreal...
The whore from Faridabad....

* A mixture made of coal......applied over the eyes to make them look attractive......

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Meditation

Looking back
It is beauty that is carved into
Every moment of our lives
Every moment of our near deaths,
Every moment of our death.

A song reached out to me
In my winter bed,
A simple song of simple love.
Transcending me back eight years
Into that lonely street where I stood
Looking down at every one.
Proud and haughty.
An absolute sense of right.
Self destructive.
Yet like the Phoenix, capable of
Raising one up towards the truth.

It was the brittle line between life and death
I saw it that night.
When my mind split into two.
When time halted.
When death kissed me in.
And then wonder of wonders,
I saw the three dimensions of the 
Most beautiful face on earth,
My angel.
I was over joyed.

In the busy consultation room
Patient after patient buzzing in.
All seem to fragment in front of me.
The drama called life ran figments
I connected with their woes and miseries,
I knew they will all vanish.
I smiled an all knowing smile.
They smiled back half cured of their ailments.
I smiled at Maya.
I couldn’t help smiling.

The people who fought for me,
They made me who I am today.
People who left and who still pray for me,
People far off who have given me a hundred reasons to smile,
People who have bruised and battered me and moulded me into who I am.
Why did God send them to me?
Was it not a mirror He sent through all of them,
A mirror into which I had to see,
With my mind open.

In a painting, Xibalba radiates with such beauty
Such absolute glow and fire,
Transporting me to the after life.

The paradise called peace.
Salaam.
Where all goodness lives and perishes not for eternity.
There I see myself, sitting, meditating,
Looking up.
On the glory that was life,
On the glory that was death,
On the glory of the One.

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My Sophia

Marooned alone on my Sophia on the high seas,
Watching merciless winds uproot distant island trees;
With my fleet dead and none to command,
Alone I pilot my darling with an unsteady hand.

The roars strip her off her sail,
The waves plunder and wreck her bosom hale,
And she comes crashing down with a wail,
And the last sound I hear that night of relentless gale,
Is my Sophia’s goodbye so weak and so pale.

I wake up the next day alive in safe sands cast,
By a piece of log from my Sophia’s mast.

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One With the Frost

Love unreciprocated and sufferings untold,
From eons undated and ages old.
Now, fresh menacing storms lash against me,
The all-bearing leaf of the autumn tree.

And now, hope is drained and faith is low.
And at the pinnacle of pain, I finally let go.
And smiling one last time at my cruel world,
Into the winds, myself, I throw.

My body is blue and my soul is lost.
I merge, 
I merge and become one with the frost.

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We Danced

Hair thrown back, head in high poise,
Lustre eyes glowing, gloved hand in hoist,
She stood vis-à-vis in proud juxtapose,
The high princess, the maiden of Rose.

And through the hall, as sweet music began its rove,
I took the tenderness and knelt her a graceful bow.
In moderation, our starting steps took their row,
In simple grace, in slow joyful tow.

Rapture of music, joy's ebb and flow;
Flitting and flying, together in wondrous glow,
Traversing emotions high and low,
Beaming, adoring, in our pleasant mop and mow,
And flinging slowly away, all sorrow,
We began to dance like there was no morrow.

Twisting and turning,
Whirling and wooing,
We danced,
Unbridled, without a care!
In lark! Frolic! Rapture fair!
In hoops and hulas,
In taking and leaving,
In parting and joining,
We danced,
In blissful ignorance of worry and need,
Without thought, without heed,
We danced,
Like twin flowers of the spring season,
Liberated souls, needing not reason.

We danced,
Unaware of body and soul,
Drinking the music, bustling and whole,
We danced,
Till our heads were light,
And our spirits shone bright.
We danced,
And danced,
And danced all night long,
And every serenade and every vibrant song,
Set our dueling hearts in full throng.
We danced,
To mirth's zenith, to wholeness's verge.
And into us, as we danced,
An arresting peace emerged.
And into us, as we danced,
Sweet eternity,
Confluenced and merged.

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Zombie

Into life she summoned, the poet long dead,
With the sway of her hand, the high priestess…

Cast aside, his errand seeing the end,
Deprived alas! Of both life and death,
Through the darkest streets he looms in unrest,
Seeking an elixir for his wretched loneliness…

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A Tryst Long Awaited

fWar flitted him to distances unknown
Far from every ray he claimed his own
Six years had sauntered by since…
But with a stately face, with no sigh or wince
Wide windows flung open, in her haven she awaited
And condoning suitors and admirers, alone she tread
Cherishing a hope too hopeless to be said….

Now, she shifted unsteadily at a distant clatter…
And into a psychedelic out flow of a thousand colors,
Ecstasy brimmed, her long deferred cocoon shattered
As she heard penetrating every corner of her bower
Deep resonant victorious footsteps of her lover's
And as she ran to him, joy milled,
Angels beamed at her prayers fulfilled.
And in their hug, all time stood still.

Details | Le Incendié Poem

A Tryst Long Awaited

War flitted him to distances unknown
Far from every ray he claimed his own
Six years had sauntered by since…
But with a stately face, with no sigh or wince
Wide windows flung open, in her haven she awaited
And condoning suitors and admirers, alone she tread
Cherishing a hope too hopeless to be said….

Now, she shifted unsteadily at a distant clatter…
And into a psychedelic out flow of a thousand colors,
Ecstasy brimmed, her long deferred cocoon shattered
As she heard penetrating every corner of her bower
Deep resonant victorious footsteps of her lover's
And as she ran to him, joy milled,
Angels beamed at her prayers fulfilled.
And in their hug, all time stood still.