Gods and Demons

where were the gods
when the demons weren't there

who were the gods
when the gods were demons

Unloved

dear ex-husband,


in a reality otherwise we could have been in love
together happily ever after
where forevers were longer and love was the only quotient to survive wedlocks

this time around, eternity was measured


- unloved -

Divorced

dear ex-wife,


from hollowing intimacies to impersonal entireties
between growing in the skin and falling apart at the bones

we've come a long way


- divorced - 

Skewed Parallels

the teaks and the termites
breathed ashes off the crumbling pages of a forged yesterday
and gnawed their skin into the dead meat and crippled spine of a delusional nation and the disillusioned lives that inhabited

the idea of skews is the reality of parallels

A Bribed Betrayal

sometimes
years of accord
fail love

sometimes it takes a betrayal to know you were in love


for
intentions are innocent
but we

we went corrupt in desires

Poetry in the Breath

shook souls
calloused hands sunken in the blood trails of a hundred slain chimera
heartaches healed between cigarettes and sex
lives spent in coal, tar and an inexpensive mirth of stenched liquor

and the single malignant thought of anarchy


it takes a lot many deaths and a lot more dungeons to poetry

Alone

alone
is
unparalleled

two is too often noise
three is society

Constant

transients
are
as constant as
the constants
could never be

forever is an ill metaphor

A Little Some

some things unsaid
some things yet breathed
some things lived by
some things yet unloved in

the sum of some's makes for a lot many some of the sums

Hedon

hedon ran for life that fall
cutting through the blue skin of the skies
bricks for bones
metal in veins
mortals bled mortar
beneath the flesh of plastered walls


concrete was such a sight for necrophilic men 

Collateral Friction

aren't we all
fluttering butterflies
in our world of rainbow puddles and bewildered manholes

aren't we all
trembling fledglings
in our cosmos of crawling walls and comfortable silences


aren't we all
all of what we wouldn't ever be otherwise

reality is a parallel perspective

An Even of the Odds

she burnt her days

and blazed her nights

in the fire of the sinking sun

on the unfurling waves of the surfeit seas

 she'd build houses where the odds fell even

Not the Fairytale

how many times
have you made believe
that the lies were for real
that you could live off the lies
life, just a little better

if only mirrors had learnt to lie too

Moment of Truth

what truth do you seek
when there is none

the coin has but one face in time

that and only that very face is the moment of truth
everything apart are just ancillaries

what's true and what's not was never the question


the one and the only

which face of the coin is yours 

Identities

who would you rather be when death and only death is certain

the ignorant
or
the defiant

The Love Gore

love stories are gory
and you thought roses were red in love?

blood on the hands
blood on the thorns
an affair so bloody that could put wars to shame


and yet we all become but scapegoats to the very idea of love
the more we realise the dawn of an imminent death
the deeper we drown in the quicksands of time

you ask why?

we are nihilists
loathed in an erotic desire of self annihilation

Under the Skin

sometimes
names become existences
existences
that creep into the depths of the skin
such that they are no less skin
than the skin itself


names can be erased, forgotten, burnt
but the skin

names on the skin are mistakes
names in the skin bleed poetry

Oddly Even

and then came pouring
as i watched
bewildered as a wonderstruck infant

a peach stream
of a rousing fragrance


they called it elixir
stranger acquaintances, i tell you

Train of Thought

why do you think
over and over and over again
pondering over the thousand absurd tales you call possibilities
imagining monsters and living hell in every nightmare of yours


thoughts are not the answers to the questions that keep you awake

between living the questions is where you find your answers

Road

the road
that leads downhill
is
the same road
that leads to the apogee


the road will take you home
and if not
the road will become home

let the road seek its path and walk along

Breaking Bad

the only time you are trapped
in a box
should be
your dead corpse in its last goodbye

break the glass walls of a routine breath
too many dead have been walking the streets