I stood on the over-bridge, yellow phosphorescence beckons– Round moon like bosom of goddess Venus , nipple for a touch; a lapwing cries over the night. A sudden rustle in the undergrowth awakened the ephemeral days of my youth, fallen from twig twirled on the dirt .
I left the classes,, the roads and highways meaningless ennui, Listless country, sometimes glimmered a magic reality– a spike of mountain at horizon flashed like her naked gorgeous flank This boozing did not burn my heart–such was the loneliness, such was the dream. someone went away with swinging lantern, I knew he would not come back again.
Darkness at the heart of darkness, then again darkness like a baby in the womb, he grew into a child, dove in the swirling water, he is a nameless pang in the wind of my being. My defeat rises again like a night-bird.
Oh, my horizon kissing death, my lust for a life, at the dusk on that dune rain fell like a quivering dream, my dear, I woke in the witching hour, your eyes met mine.
Poet’s Note: I contemplated about this poem while standing alone on a bridge. It is, I think, a mystic poem containing memory of my adolescence.
I am interested in literature, music and philosophy. Actually i am bent on keeping myself updated on all sorts subjects so that I can put my fingers on the pulsating life.I like to talk with like-minded . life is too short and too long. I am now a writer-completed and working on several literary works and a fiction.
(as imagined by this lumpenproletariat) When no bigger then innocuous, ho hum, happy go lucky generic black whole sonny and cher full pinhead size zit, thine pluperfect promising mysterious seat of pants whodunnit wordlessly wise wedded waywardness writ partly apportioned,
Emotional sequestration perseverates across thine time warped weft wise wold, sans interpersonal stagnation flourishes as oft twice told tale amidst derelict hollowed moldering sacrificed stranglehold did potential now bankrupt acquaintanceships/ friendships get out sold agonizingly excruciatingly jujitsu physically writhing front
Upon my visiting a steep rocky hill, I saw her- strange, candid and very simple; Falling apart from the lip-stick beauty; From insane odors; from the tog’s divinity – A natural doll, she’s a spirited jill. The rustic cast was
Once I dare… Once I dare to write my story, Memories crowded falling me weak… And words played hide and seek. Once I dare to lost in Love, brain went on compulsory leave… Mercifully, I survived of dying dive. Once
The rain drops have poured right through my eyes Right again the scars reveals themselves again Shared the broken heart into pieces Wondering the knight might still come Telling the pain it over But pushes hard feeling me I let