Sunday, December 17

Two Poems

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1. Love, War, And Freedom In la la Land

A breastful of women
Deeply deep
As your closed eyes,
You so ask me
To silence the shells
Of horrors
– of the divine guns,
At the footsteps
Of lapsing deaths…

How could I tell you
To drown deep
Deep as the endless tides
Of love
That so hides you
In fears and tears,
Of morphed corpses
You bear as I
Silence the guns
Into your carrying wombs
Of regeneration
To rear us into love
And freedom

As guns thunder
Could I tell you I don’t love you
Could I tell you so well
That war will
So kill you into smaller things
Of nothing but shadows
That will leave you holding my hands
In human chains
Lengthening in armlets
Of visceral clouds –
To uphold the sun of many
In tandem
Of love and freedom

Does love procreate
The genetic sons
Of war, of thundering guns
In la la land
As you wipe your fears
And tears –
Of daylong silence
To raise
Your fists of fury
From the quiet pride
Of ambushed peace –
That never rains in post-meridian
All for you, you

Would you pick me up
For a while like a breastful of women
To close the seventh seal
– and I will love your tequila eyes
To silence the guns
To wipe off the westcoast blood
That the la la land leaves you not
And me to do doodle
Of some love for freedom
In tandem…

2. Mona Lisa’s Smile, A Hypertext of Godly Sins

...and poetics
 of the eyes – mystic
 and wide open
 as if the nihilist heart
 troubled, the face
 stoic in etching blues
 and all lonely…

 As someone smiles
 God prays no sin, as god never
 Be a sophist, nor a belittled
 Philosopher who sees truths as lies
 And lies as the seer sees
 In gruelling eyes of wisdom
 But petrified as ever
 As hypertexts of godly sins 
 In a surreal quest
 Of something else – something, 
 That buries mystery in a womb
 Of conception, mystified

 Who smiles in the jungle?
 The prophet asks in godly sins
 To baptise his wisdom in time
 His eyes closed 
 To his death to see the eyes in jungle
 A jezebel paints her smiles
 In mascara of Mona Lisa – seven colours
 Of her smiles dissolve
 In dreams and shadows of wisdom

…and everything
 goes in soil and slumber
 mystified and troubled
 by the soulless eyes
 that never die to see and ask
 for forgiveness, mystified…


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