To have you settled in poetry and think of it as an effort well made would be to peel out layer-by-layer the words you ever said. Your departure (not that you had arrived) from my life saw the pole-star blown out like an exhausted candle-flame, devoid of air - trapped in a jar. A rhyme… Continue reading You Killed The Pole Star
Stray cats Walking, Haunting the naked streets with Their dark grey eyes. It's past midnight And the street lamp - Bright yellow - Flickers. The black bins, Punctured, Tumble in the alleys. Half-bitten, Rotting apples, Roll out in the shadows. The stench of rotting garbage Kisses the still, hot air Of the night. Women in… Continue reading The Reducing Number of Women
Paralysed in bed with your thoughts and morphine.
Opening mother's drawer, I find combs, cosmetics, black and green rubber bands, nail colours, ribbons, old photographs, coins, hairclips, and sleeping pills. The search is easy; mother would not wake up - not even blink an eye, not until 7 in the morning. It is 1 in the night, the howling dogs had their food,… Continue reading Mother’s Little Helper
We Walk Slow. Keeping the Lamp From Dying At Night. We walk slow. We Live low. We Talk tight. We Love light. We Hear hearts. We Wear words. We Peel pain. We Live vain. Inspired from Gwendolyn Brooks' We Real Cool
The green lizard on the cemented wall crawls near the bright yellow light that fills the room while the sunlight is away, It sticks its tongues out, traps a fly, chews on it, swallows it. Stays. The lizard wriggles its tail - contented with the newly acquired food and the bright, warm, yellow light. *****… Continue reading The Lizard and the Poet