Fatal Fantasies

Fancifully we trudge through mires

In the fantastical hopes,

Also the fervent

Or the fetching,

Of traversing the bog to find

Firm ground.

Fenced-off though

Remain the facades,

And frontiers

Neither welcome nor forgive.

As we follow through

Farther and farther

Into the frenzy,

Those faces darken.

Foe or friend

Friend and foe—

Differences fade

For fatalities pile up.

That which we forgot

We forcibly learn,

What we favoured

We know to forego.

Frantically we search

Then feverish proceed

Attempting to fulfil causes,

To which we once, foolishly,

Pledged our futures.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Desiccated

She was not in the cradle of her yesterday

Not in the rocking chair of the present,

Having taken her troubles to a balmy field

She collapsed, at the end.

Not here in the darkened boughs of dawn

Did the transports of the tomorrow enliven her,

And the restless musings of the then and the now

Were all too far away in the stillness.

Amidst the blowing draughts, she sighed

And waited for a moment with the shadows,

Then as a leaf fell to the earth and settled

She left, stealing all away.

The lighted home from whence she had fled

Dared not miss her for a moment,

While the abode she might have soon arrived at

Would not be watching for her footsteps.

For, just like the fog that had enveloped

The environs of her departure

She brought forth only a touch of mild moisture

That would always, and ever, be unfelt in the sunlight.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Till the Hour

In the glorious blur

The sounds muffled

Are not,

Thoughts run one into another unceasing unstopping

And the throbbing is

Palpable and crude,

Empty creases abound

Their wholeness needed

And yet unfilled

Remain,

The left and the right

Look both the very same,

Other vestiges

Come back to trouble

Or to comfort

But who can tell the difference,

For, stealing a heartbeat

And a smile or a tear

The ongoing merges and cleaves,

While the gnawing

Cannot be satiated

Or even so

Not with its most sublime,

And in this form

All clarity is and is not there.

But then

In the middle

Of the lattermost

Those forces regroup

Fervently raise their wishes

And search, ask, want anew for more.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Looking

Sterile, humdrum

The drone of those bees

Lulls me into a stupor

As they

Harass the scented petals

Not letting me touch

The seductive blooms.

But I do

Want to reach.

So let me

And sedate

Me not.

Still they persist

In their one activity

Sometimes darting

At me

Annoying, arousing.

My patience wanes

I am parched

And desperate.

So I look.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Through

Dedicated to Mafaz Mohideen, who helps me find and re-find myself

Surrender

The far-reaching glances

Abandon

The want of there

Envelop,

The sweet traces

And look

At a desire untold.

The dew collects

In

The meadows.

And the shimmer

It distracts

From secrets that

Lie still

Out

Of reach.

But linger

Just a while.

Gaze through the twilight

Approaching.

Love in the midst

Unstopping

And hold

That which you foraged

And found.

It will all rise

To the moment of a traversing

That which is yours

Shall be

Clear even

In

The dark and

Out

Beyond the rushes.

So stay for a moment

Fight for an eternity

And come.

Sunday, January 9, 2010

Colourless

The seams fall apart

And nothing holds together.

The truth is revealed:

The seemingly-coloured

Were always colourless…

Displaced amidst the fanfare,

Awkward in the make-believe,

Disillusioned and unhappy,

She searches, for substance

And truth: what she always

Believed she saw…

But

They don't exist.

Gathering the torn strands

She must walk on

Salvaging, as much

Of herself as she can

In a plethora of lies.

The journey is now

Colourless

More wearying

Much more worthless

But she will take it

Hoping to come out

Unscathed

Unviolated

And whole.

Thursday, August 15, 2005

Waterfall

So full…

Unable to sort

Unable to explain

Unable to express

And yet so sure

So certain.

Can this be

What will characterise me?

For it is this that I like:

The agony of thought

Unstoppable

The pain of living

Endured

The perplexity of thoughts

Intense.

And the intensity

O the intensity!

Nothing quite like it anywhere

Nothing so me…

But where o where

Today or tomorrow

Will this lead me?

Dare I go?

The end…

Worthwhile?

For there will be one

If I have lived.

And I have.

Will.

Like it or not.

Me or not…

Sunday, March 20, 2005

The Wait

The leaves have fallen,

The ice has thawed,

The sun has shone,

The rain has come,

Too long has passed

But you…haven't arrived.

And yet I'll wait…

Here I will plant myself

Grow roots.

I will watch the world go by

Till I'm gnarled and old

Like the wind that chills.

I will not budge

I won't be dug up

I will wait

It is you I want to catch.

And come you will

Scared

Hoping that I have long gone

Looking around

Those furtive eyes

But longing for me

And my deathly embrace

Yearning for my shade

But frightened of being

Crushed.

And pounce I will.

You cannot escape.

You will be caught.

For I can wait

You…cannot.

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

WiThem

The demons--they pound.

They knock. And she ignores them.

Preferring to get along and live

Without Them.

Oblivious she seems

To pain and to hurt

Oblivious to misery and despair

Without Them.

And yet They know--

They see, They sense

The agony she goes through

Without Them.

Unrelated, disjointed fragments

Occupy the waking moment

Every moment of her existence

Without Them.

Haunted: she'll live.

Torn: she'll breathe.

Confused, not blind

Around Them.

But the demons--They know

It's only a while…

Soon she'll open the doors and dwell

With Them.

WiThem.

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

All that remained...

The shiny metal trophy

She could see

Her face in it

Smiling, crying, laughing…

Mostly happy

The trophy was intact

And

She had her peace

Of mind.

Daily, she polished

Her possession

It shone, shimmered.

Envied it was.

New it was

Very new, very rare

Looking as if it would remain so

A well-deserved honour

For her efforts.

Protectively and fiercely-guarded trophy!

And yet

The reddish-brown ruin...crept in

A natural process. She noticed it not.

Slowly it accumulated. It ate into the iron

Unnoticed, unheeded

Fuelled by moisture and air.

Its novelty to her had worn off

The fear of its corrosion, decreased.

No more polish, much less care

When so much more was needed…

The ruin had

Full reign.

Iron corroding, silver went to brown

Before she noticed.

Horrified, cloth and spray in hand

She rubbed vigorously at the wreck

In vain. The beauty of the trophy

Was only a memory now

And would ever

Be so. For, what was terrible

Would only get worse.

She cried, she lamented, she polished

She hoped that her trophy would shine again

Yet

The ruin spread.

Tears shed

Nothing but a waste of her sanity.

For it ate her up too that ruinous stuff

O, couldn't she see, that

Of the trophy and her,

The rust

Would be all that remained?

Wednesday, April 7, 2004