Chronicle Of A Betrayal Foretold

Every now and then,
Once in a black moon
Comes across a girl
Who makes your heart swoon.
Then you fall in love
And the usual croons
Of love and longing
Of desires and passions
Haunting shades
Murmurs in darkness
Taps on fingers
Gentle, often.
Then she leaves
With silence
Leaving lingering pain
Without remorse
Or even a thought.
She forgets instantly
And moves on
Like a parasite
Locust
To feed upon
New Lovers.

Jesting in Peace

In nakedness and pride
In death and life
Lies a queer balance
Refusing permission
To end breaths
Refuting my love
To slit a wrist
And move on
With moments
Less mundane.

Saviours Of A Lost World

We are coming to save you
On foot or on beast
Perhaps in shambles
In battered spirits
Halfheartedly for sure
Whining about left behind
Wine and baked morsels.
A cozy bed and  a barmaid
Is all that we want.
But sullenly we are coming
My dearest
To take you away
From them.

Mispronounced With Delight

Let me dissolve as a fading memory
     of your past.
A note of sodomizing music worthy
      but of rape.
A ruptured vessel of a now dying heart
      infinitesimally so.
Remembered only as a shadow behind
       those teary eyes.
A hope so bleak that even bleakness
        makes sense.
Blending a new emotion which thrives
        on idiosyncrasies.
And breathing from a hollow soul
        an angry realization.
Of a past skewed with spurts of
         rage championed.
But beauty has accompanied me
         too often.
In moments of uncertain designs
         and vagaries.
So i know with proud conviction
          of finality.
A hint of caution to my own self
           about edges.
Would complete the equation
           of moments.
A word or two about vagueness
            is important
For ways of these moments also
            betray often.
And thereby give a solemn birth
             to contradictions.
Then should I try to escape the
              innate chasm?
Or channel a force bought to life
               by silent legacies?
The beauty of destined rise and fall
               lies in concealment.
It's sanctity cannot be challenged by
                your morality.
For to love is to fight and conquer
                 not sacrifice.
Since sacrifice of the purest form
                 is war itself.
Not a veil of convenient cowardice
                 acknowledged.
I know worth of life is realized by
                  chosen few.
The premise of my sympathy is but
                   human.
And each word uttered without passion
                   is nullity.
Certain digressions are permitted with
                   disappointment.
But nevertheless accepted as tenets of
                    human condition.
Let me devote that each moment of life
                     to exist.
Beautifully as a cosmic continuity and not
                     as an aberration.
           

With A Whimper

Those shady bars have for long whispered sweet nothings to my hollow mind
Beckoning like a mistress who knows you well enough to be your mother
And for long I've evaded the question that my friend Thomas had asked,
But the bitch in my memory refuses to die.
The best in me is no longer fit for your consumption and
The worst that I carry rots healthily by the dilapidated sill by your side.
The tragedy that will now unravel like an artsy film is very personal
The fall ,if there was a rise, of a young mind now seems to be in vogue
For mediocrity too has to thrive in this hobgoblin of a world.
Where eunuchs make true love, shimmering with emotion
And men whimper with impotent eyes
Watching the world suck their virility with casual ease,
And worship sexless bodies who like to tease.
Its not for your shocked eyes that I write
But for the bitch in my memory who refuses to die.
To fight the impossible is not my aim
But to sit in the corner and then proclaim in vain,
"My dear sirs, would you like to do me too?"
And then those gentle hands adept at hiding filth
Will descend on me and again with casual ease
Beautifully take the worst out of me.
Be not be mistaken that it is anger my muse
But my friend Thomas who taught me to use
Words and more words to suppress true intent
And mock this idea of a world with clownish ruse.
I always bluff my way into another life
But the bitch in my memory refuses to die.
Under the bedsheets my world lies
Where naked swarms of dreaming delights
Hides carefully the shoddy reality of life
A world where emotional holocausts
Are meted out by one and all
Again my dear sirs with casual ease!
This casual ease is what I have begun to hate
And the good lord cites it as rightfully chaste.
I fear it may bring the end of me
For women come and go with men pinned up to their breasts
Singing sonnets with drunken sniggers
The most delightful whores love could buy
If you thought I'll mince words each time
Then my sirs and lovers
To break the third wall is no crime
My friends, long dead, taught me so
And till the last of my breaths it shall be forever so
Forever and ever till Nightingales shall sing
Men will be condemned for they believed in the gospel of Howl,
For my bitch that refuses to die
I've a message, my darling chocolate pie
Till the memory of you shall remain
My dead friends shall always keep me insane.

A is A

I am the abundance of a copper mine
Lost in Peruvian history
I am the Promethean flame
Destined to burn forever
The metal that has refused
To corrode and comply
Refused just not your love
But your very existence
I am the ragged railroad
Unwilling to submit,
To give in or to deny
My right to live
As an equal among men
Of vision and courage.
I am the philosophy
Of brute force
And reason
Coupled by words
Uttered by a father
To his own child
Knowing not
The kneads of future
But believing
Nevertheless
With cold searing conviction
Of a lover's desire
For his love
In the ability
To conquer doubt
And gently
Bridge destiny
Without hesitation
Without fear or
Any of its malice.
It is this that
I have sought
With a child's want
Of its mother
And found it
Carefully and beautifully
Preserved within
My own self.

Born Of A Whisper

Convulsions and spasms,

A moment of death

Pain's purest pleasure

Exodus

The parting of Red Sea

Agonizing breaths

A return to the primal

Of an animal's instinct

With an unknown innocence

To be brutally torn

Reclaimed by a will

Knowing no passions

Purposeful and cold

Molded by points of desire

Joy was never so terrifying.

Nabucco

Among the contradictions that bind your soul,
The moral premises that question your hold
The thoughts that plunge you in deepest oceans
And the dreams that soar above the highest mountains.
I know i stand alone with my gift of existence,
With history's heroes guiding my way
Upon a silken path of sun's taut rays
I know it now as i had i known it before.
I know it now as i had never known before.

The contradictions are forever mine to battle,
And the limitless rewards mine to savor
The cryptic Purpose is mine to decipher
And mine alone to be brutally conquered.
The words of our past are tools to break free
Weapons, if I may, of battles yet to be decreed
Destinies and Equality are superlatives that are fed
And free thyself from such memories that are dead.
I know it now as i had never known before.

The cliffs of Pride and Honor that i choose to stand upon,
Are not yet in vision of the the zenith to be won
The peaks of joy and ecstasy are never bound
In hearts of those where contempt and misery is to be found.
Hollow and infinite needs of purposeless sanctions,
I have erred in days of past where spiritless passions
Found there way inside my raw heart
And shrouded under the cloak of ignorance
I surrendered all my worthy self deference.
I know it now as i had never known before.

Is it a divine epiphany that untangled my soul?,
Or was it willed by a hand that has loosened its hold?
The answers are not worthy of a new life's moment
For the stricken blow that awakened me came late.
But i have fooled and tricked myself in the past
Believing this gratuitous chimeric reality will perhaps last
The trick, if there is one, will not be spared
The word of Nietzsche will successfully ensnare.
And i know it now as i had never known this before.

Etching Away...

What is Love's Sacrifice but the Broken Heart?
                                                                      Richard Crashaw

To die in a distant land among strange wilderness
Among heartless friends and hollow lovers
And let go of these shallow, timeless breaths
Crumple the last beat that echoes in harsh waters
Incinerate those lifeless limbs
For salvation is the key
To angry bouts of shrieking misery
Hope cannot be restored
In a soul lulled by betrayal and foolishness.

It must give you resting peace and incalculable joy
To see your lover rotting away for eternity
A lover who revered poetry, Genesis and Fall of Troy!
Thy delusional hearts still goes mad, weeps for no end
Refusal in acceptance of your enchanting knavery
But this agony will last not long
For i will etch away the clock of desire
And let nothingness breed in maternal vacuum
Till a strange light illuminates thy being
And immerses it in an eternal shadow.

tragédie

There are two types of tragedies in life. One is not getting what you want, the other is getting it.