Clairvoyance Poems

How tall and stout were those who wore big armors? I wondered at a museum of heroic ancestors. In self hypnotism I look through future. find machines are giants, people- pygmies, products outnumber their creators, most inhabitants follow train of

Sitting here tonight thinking about you the phone rings and it’s you on the other end you say I was just thinking about you how have you been? I say well I’m fine but it’s kinda ironic I was just

On the blue icicles you were colliding with orbiting electrons naked legs on the rocking chair were expecting the visual words to spook for clairvoyance with the sun decline beyond borders my eyes are damp, I know the bottom was

A sleight of the hand, a melodramatic move; Fate plays its final hand, A royal flush established, a victorious counter-move. Or was it simply you, in tandem with candor? Your misdemeanor forgotten, Simply an existential demeanor? How do you plead,

It’s the time of frosty days, And the nights glowing with starry skies. Every heart filled with bliss and joy, Smiles and laughter make the season full of life. It’s the time when fir trees are adorned with tiny lights,

If only , There was a chance , Splendid moonlight , yet no romance … Eyes meet , A Failed greet , Love at loggerheads. Respective faith at distress .. What was it , Magic that night or gloom of

The umber colour is not any colour but all three at the same time, and to be any colour like a plain old blue, well be so inclined, and to tell a colour from another colour you must never be

Siblings will take care of the morgue. I am going to hang my god today. Howling winds are crashing into my breath. In the sea of flags, the white death walks on naked bodies of faith. Innocence will take a

Dear Pain, Thank You……………….. For holding me in your soft hands when the mundane world ditched me, For caressing my untouched soul when the crooked world shot poison leaded arrows at me, For standing with me and facing the brunt

Something impossible would happen. Truth was too much to operate, life was easy with fakes. Neither mortal pain, nor needles would mend the wounds. The chasm was deepening. And I stitch the orange lights with the kisses of green tears.

Outraged film and dirt life. The descent was complete. A shadow under the moon walks past the lake, comes out of the body. Every dream leaves an imprint on the glass. Will never drink the moonlight again. The blank surrender

Birth Ties Premature Youth Vibrancy Naivete Vulnerability Pitfall Hollow Time Stale Pitiful Resentful Anger More energy Strong Powerful Adrenaline flowing Positive Joy Arrogance Dive Splash Affect Dive again Again Again Bam!!! Rock bottom Alone Knowledge anew Non arrogance Hollow Time

I never believed in love but when I met you I swam deep into blue ocean of love I never thought of flying but you made me flying this sky with silver wings of your heartbeats I could never know

Trumpets of honor, 21 Guns on her behalf She walks down the tarmac, an unbroken calf; Stars on her bosom, Wings on her shoulder Bearing a crest of memories, along with insignia of her mother She struts with inhuman pride,

They arrived through the morning post The father, son, and the holy ghost They raised their flag. I raised a toast To all the wretched sinking souls And so we built our little church A little store to peddle hope

I listen to the words of the song that the blind blues player sings Sweat running down his face, neck muscles in a tight strain Sounding as if he’s lived every word he is singing I feel the sting in

Behind these bars my heart is full of pain behind these bars I’m alone and only I’m to blame for I have walked down the path of darkness for so many years now behind these bars I sit with eyes

I stopped for a moment and simply closed my eyes, I heard the sound of laughter, no sound of any cries, I felt a bit unsure at this unfamiliar noise, To keep my eyes closed or open was my choice.

Oh yes and I AM TOUCHED by your smile, by your laughter and your charm, spending time with you is like spending time in paradise oh yes ‘cuz baby I AM TOUCHED by the way you touch my face and

the whispering voices laid down the arms on the skull of the leader, father of pain, then asked the guns to fire a last volley towards home targeting the prudence of fingernails who crossed the gap seventy thousand years ago,

The wind’s flaming sword cut through the brazen land, grasses along its wrath are flared, and seeds for the songbird fell flat on the ground, temperature’s tune seems amplified, 360 degrees around: Baked clod. And the stems turn into dried

Oh, my husband, he is too soft, giving everything, I ask, but not trusting me, keeping all savings, himself, And asks, “what is money for, am giving all that you need”; That’s not right, am wounded and so, don’t like

I’m a little weary, I might need some sleep, Reality I’m exhausted and I can’t even speak. I am feeling fine, yeah sure I am okay, Reality, I’m screaming but being drowned out anyway. Yes I am excited and I

They’re playing jazz in Leavenworth, ersatz Bavarian tourist trap of Washington State, a brittle-fingered quartet sentenced to the cellar of a failed Bierpalast fake snow sweating down the cinder block walls. the musicians don’t care; music coats their stomachs extra

Zephyr winds bade me follow To the black coolness of the night Do bear my soul’s sum Call forth the God Apollo Upon his lyre strum Pray the voices of nine muses A lullaby to soothe me As I open

The tride says you reside here with my snow All of your brighest hair, been tarnished with rust You hardly knew I can discem your daisies grow Where your heart alone has fallen to my dust When the moon rages,

Lonely nights came by , Dark nights passed by, One night dream couldn’t last long, One moment there and then you see blur. Martin Luther King Jr had a dream but it’s not fulfilled. I had my dreams but it’s

The shrine of Madonna stood tall, The high king’s rapier fell down, not anymore was he the young prince, for he was devoid of all feelings. The shrine of Madonna stood strong, The high king’s blood washed the ivory pedestal,

Life has lots of phases, some awesome some tough days. It has a lesson in every stage,no matter how hard those. You will not get time to do those,which is pending since long days. New day ,new task ,new problems

Well there is more to me than meets the eye but it seems like nobody can see the beauty inside…I’m so sick and tired of players and their games it’s enough to make you wanna give up on love but

Happy is a smile that makes the sun shine makes the air feel as crisp as the morning shine. Happy is being able to call you friend, and that no one else can comprehend. Smile a Smile and never pretend,

Pander to the broken once more shall you see, the changes made, Above the mighty Stereo Surrendering, only to ignite streams to pour From the fountain of the Infinite Well. Oh! allow such splendor to splash upon a page Aplomb!

Walking through the twilight between reality and myth Stepping in the shadows of cross and monolith Chinese whispers running through religious verse Fairy tales told from baptism to hearse Children kneel, hands clasped with bowed heads Praying for angels to

How do I start this journey to your heart? From charts or auguries for direction? Should thousand ships from port with me depart, Yet East or West, where lies your affection? As steepest slope, ravines or swiftest stream, May stand

I live an ordinary life, In an ordinary home Built from ordinary bricks Made from ordinary stone. Each ordinary day I wake, Go down the ordinary stairs, Take a deep long breath and smell The ordinary air. At my ordinary

If a dog were to worship a Dog-God How would it go? Bow-wow, Roll over, bark, snap or howl, As would any dog? Will it troop or droop its tail, Flail, fawn, whimper or wail? Piteously or piously at the

The effigy wouldn’t burn whoever heard of an incombustible baseborn? we dragged it through the street its clothes torn off carefully painted features smeared in puddles we still remembered who we hated but this dummy of bound bamboo and straw

traveling backward in dark to meet my father I held the hands of my grandchild in broken dawn of random spring to collect the lost years of old house where we could not meet and he sat feet resting on

For honour killing twilight adulates an abstract faith. Tainted? Now that mouth was shut and butterfly was pinned, will you grow the marigolds? The empty book was not breathing in a crowd of words. The bitter meaning had flown away.

The minute that you meet her she will tell you she is ill She keeps all her medication upon her windowsill And I have to say It makes a fine display Her grandchildren are fascinated by their colours, shapes and