Pregnant With Desire

Love and light,

In unsteady flight-

Forced, in fear,

By eyes, so near,

I pray again,

Oh light, do send:

Bless me; shed this decaying skin,

Deliver me; born anew, of a brighter kin.

Towers tall: so strong and sound,

Unshaken by wind, hail and storm-

Give me their steadfastness,

Light, I beg- give me one scar less,

But leave one to hark me back- oh, the pain:

Let not indecision seep in, over again.

As the arms of delirium come forward in embrace,

And the lips of lust kiss my face,

Insatiable inquisitiveness now takes over,

A rush ensues, in apparent race-

And then the sting- so raw and bitter,

Light, I am chastised, and for the better.

But I urge, oh Light, do provide,

That this lesson is forever remembered,

That it shall never meander, or hide:

And into the crevices of my mind surrender-

The memory of a filth that overcame,

Rushed in and almost remained:

Spreading, as does with wind fire,

Leaving my soul-

Pregnant, with desire.

Lost In Translation

Misty waters whirl around,

Transparency is further dispelled,

All it took was transient contact,

Ripples and ripples, succeeding in cataleptic slumber-

Which were begun, by but a diminutive yearning,

Longing, that numbs the conscience.

And then, again, the same touch would awaken:

A thousand minds in rapid succession,

Unity in utter independence-

Where awareness brings hopeful venture;

One mind, must instigate,

One heart- must set them in action.

Energy in its eternal and pious concentration,

Passing through a coarse coexistence-

Saturating and disappearing,

Sometimes in distraught squander,

Where souls annihilate:

-In mirthful ignorance- usurped only by insanity.

This miasma, now overwhelms,

And clarity is involuntarily beckoned,

Seeking its connotation- in what it is not;

Realizing- reality would halt in absence of denial;

Questioners now question:

-Tearing all meaning apart.

Where is this planet?

Soaked in ludicrousness-

And somehow, still, ostensibly rational.

Where be my kin, I, even?

In relentless flurry-

Magical, still, limited and bound.

Lost in desire?

Lost in faith?

Lost in love?

Lost in hate?

Emotions, words:

People, worlds:

Lost, in translation…

Two

It was dark, dark, day-

The lightless sky had gone astray,

Children hid away in fear,

As they saw the evil thunder leer,

But the music still played-

And two hearts still swayed-

Two souls and the wilderness,

Two hearts that won’t forget,

Two words of tenderness,

Two lives that should never have met.

It was a slightly lighter day-

The world was hung in sheets of grey,

Children peeked into the clear,

As they saw specks of blue appear,

But the clouds still wept-

And two hearts still kept-

Two souls and the wilderness,

Two hearts that won’t forget,

Two words of tenderness,

Two lives that should never have met.

It was a bright, bright day-

Faces mirrored the sun’s warming rays,

Children played outside in delight,

Assuaged that they needn’t take fright,

And the trees still offered shade-

And two hearts still escaped-

Two souls and the wilderness,

Two hearts that won’t forget,

Two words of tenderness,

Two lives that should never have met.

Creations’ Death

Onwards upon this strange behest,

The everlasting earths’ one call,

I walk with the fear of failing my quest:

Lest mine be a true soul’s true fall;

For in this feral void of disaster,

Lay those dispelled by the lone eraser-

His black sorcery to continue,

His perfect balance to review and renew,

They put most in plight-,

Allow few the gift of flight,

Dark that arises from the light:

Myriad shadows through myriad suns-

Banished, nevertheless His own sons.

With pain and delusion came the first day,

And their lightless life was ticking away-

When He turned to His punishing face,

Turned existence into a race,

Imprisoned minds in heaven and hell:

And with a vortex of lies He does quell.

How can I call such my father?

When I love one and another?

Paths do fork, and may have mislead,

Many a traveler may perish in dread:

Unsure of which path to tread…

Angels who rebelled against-

But angels still in their core essence,

Questioning can not be a sin,

So why’ve we been lead, to expel it from within?

Which true being, angel or mortal-

Would ever restrict, the flow of nature,

Would ever unsteady, her ancient anchor? 

Remember love, and forget sin-

Mistakes are natural, embrace nature,

And search within.

Conscious steps lead to freedom,

Truth is and truth will enlighten:

Recall these words when in dark despair,

And tell your tale, but tell it fair.

(Inspired by Philip Pullman’s ‘His Dark Materials’ Trilogy.)

Questions and Contemplations

Living; a succession,

Of actions and events,

Of love and delusion,

And their consequence.

Of hope and trust,

Of blunder and fate,

It never concludes,

For it never commenced.

People and places,

Vanish into a labyrinth that astounds;

Belief and imagination,

So intimately bound.

Creativity created,

And the tale still weaves,

With twists, with turns,

And wonder and strife-

Drawing everything that is and exists,

Into a vortex: a whirlwind called life.

It seems so bizarre,

To be living,

Hanging on the brink,

Of such a slight chance.

Life is a word,

That someone defined:

Tell me, if it remained unheard,

Would each breath we take, still keep us alive?

I question who we are,

But slaves of our own making?

Ruled by restrictions,

Created ourselves?

Imprisoned by emotions,

We’ve defined ourselves?

And restricted by time,

We measure ourselves?

Would we die if we were never alive?

Could we sing without knowing music?

Could we see without knowing sight?

And would we be wrong, if we were never right?

Oh, this world is curious,

Disguised as nude,

But in truth is cloaked;

In attempt to elude:

Skeptical minds,

And wandering souls-

For they remain detached,

From her earth: her soil and water,

Instead they seek something deeper,

They tear her apart, not feeling her pain:

They search her for meaning,

Not knowing she has naught,

They remain, as they are: 

Unsighted, naïve and condescending. 

           

Lost Tales of Love and War

Tales untold,

Profound, bitter,

Curtained by shadows,

Veiled in mist,

Lost in dim expanses-

Now unfurl,

Before my eyes,

Unheard voices,

Speak over again,

Forgotten scenes recalled,

Neglected oaths considered;

Is elucidation to come?

Or are we to remain,

Shrouded in eternal darkness?

Once more…

Wars resumed over mislaid causes,

Aged romances roused,

Conquered fear is yet liberated-

Unimpeded, entering our souls,

But with it overlooked joy is reinstated,

And lost hope is found.

Fiery eyes,

Stare once again,

Evil without reason;

And Angels rise,

Untainted and pure,

Flowing like fresh water,

Spreading love as they flow.

One is all and one will remain,

Love is and love overcame,

War rises, from but love,

Hate would not be, but for love;

Love relates as love sees,

Love calls as love feels,

Love shatters as love builds,

Love confronts, as she shields.

These tales tell much,

But they achieve much more:

Memories can reduce you to tears,

Legends make strong hearts sore,

And soft words are sufficient to dispel most fears…

Long Nights and Fresh Beginnings

Bursts of lightning lacerate the blue,

Stars are veiled, dreading identification,

The lone light is accompanied by thunder,

And neon streaks are all I can go by…

Why do I feel the earth is breaking, before my very eyes?

Is it just His vengeance?

Or is it something else?

Why won’t She stop her elegy?

Doesn’t she know,

That tears are contagious?

I know it’ll all be over,

But the child inside exposes itself,

And I’m filled with terror-

Searching for cover,

Although I don’t really need it.

Oh for the night to be over!

Morning just broke,

Echoing the first light,

Drenched in dew,

Sunk in radiance-

A fresh start,

My fears are washed away,

Once more.

Rough times always make the good seem better,

Warmth always makes the cool colder;

Fright is always pursued by respite,

Just as tears are chased by joy:

And long nights by fresh beginnings.