Winter flower

Thousand flowers
Grow in spring and die
Lonely flower
Grows in winter and dies
Still it is rare and wonder.

March 17,2019

Advertisements
Posted in c’est la vie | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Distance

A lonely
A mathematician measures
The distance
Between him and her, hundreds
Of ways except walking.

March 15, 2019

Posted in c’est la vie | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Through glass window

I sit in an empty room crowded
So many bodies accumulated
Perfumed with bad breath and
Memories swarming in the horizon
I see them through the glass
I see them through the window
A single window, a prisoner of
The dark room
The mind that conjures images past.

March 14, 2019

Posted in c’est la vie | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Shapes blurred

A painter stands in an empty corner
In a crowded quarters
The streets crisscross like
The tangled thoughts of
A crazy jealous
A man
A woman
A something in between
A confused
A confusion
A painter stands with a last painting tube
A half empty … thought
A broken brush
A casual encounter produces
A distorted image
The ageing painter looks through
The crowd … shapes blurred
A failure registers
Unrecognised
The shapes blurred in agony
In the painter’s mind painting
Shapeless thought
The radio announces
Thoughtcrimes are on the rise
Shapeless thought painted
On broken canvas whistles!

March 7, 2019

Posted in c’est la vie | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Shadow warriors

It is a methodology daddy
My daughter assures me
As we recount the story
The dream I had
The shadow floating in the void
That is my mind
A horse,
A knight,
A savage warrior
A hyena eating the dead
I scream in my sleep
As hyena turns the faces
Of the dead to face me
I avoid knowing
My daughter shakes me
Out of my terror laughing
It’s only a mythology daddy!

February 28, 2019

Posted in c’est la vie | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Prisoner

When thought becomes a prisoner
Of fear
When heart beats to orders in mindless
Despair
When tomorrow is coloured by numbness
To spare
The last dying ounce of sanity in madness
Present
Now becomes the jail, the jailer and the prison
Waiting
Waiting is the game of dying slowly without
The flare of a Russian roulette or
The agony of duel
No one cares,
Silence buries the dead.

When thought becomes a prisoner
Of fear
Meaning dies the slow death of neglect and
What remains is
Prisoner of own!

February 27, 2019

Posted in c’est la vie | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Help screaming

Help me please
Please
Help me to scream, to
Fill the numbing
Void in my head with
Meaningless noise to
Destruction
Numbing
Void
I
Write
Words on a floating board
Boat it transpires
Boat to escape
Screaming in the hull
Echo beats me back
I
Need
To
Scream
Please
Could you
Would you
Help me?!

February 26, 2019

Posted in c’est la vie | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment