...

for her the crystal rivers sing 

for her the sweet lover sweet tidings brings

for her the saffron clad heroes swing

for her the rainbow in a teardrop lingers

for her the colours merge vibrant red

for her the water runs into blood

for her the red teardrop dies in a stain

for her the anger, the anger burns...

fettered freedom

the mind -

a scoop of rainbow

in the summer sky,

the softness of the salt

in a teardrop,

the choked voice

in a suffocated throat,

the elixir off the fountain

in the forbidden terrain of innocence.

the mind -

the wings of a unicorn

the golden glint in the eye of the dragon

the darkness of the dungeon of death

the black grey silver of life

the only open window

the only locked door

the only prison

the only cascading river

... the mind

blistered

haze in perpetuity

inebriation to be forgiven

it's the state of sanity

deserving persecution

incantations galore

repeating the repetition

momentlessness

nonetheless survival

survival of the fittest?

no oppurtunity but that

suspended in a second

a second in a second

time captured by time

these are walled

by transparent walls

merciless walls

hope will linger

be the flame

on the dying waxed wick

mirage of choice

breathless illusions

hallucinations illusions

fingers spinning

webs of complacency

a series

a circle

loops within looops within loops...

Poetry

Not from labour does it peek,
The rhythm of an uncouth me
Within a me.
It would be simpler if ink could gallop
Not without reigns.
Yet it escapes.
The black sense of the floating black letters
Resist the fetters resist a rhyme
Reading the beyond, yearning to meet.
Clandestine – that’s what it is.
The river is constant
About all but one.
Diffident of constancy
Seeking as it flows.

Figment

Deception of the mind,
Or a silhouette escaping the shadow?
Language untraceable,
Fire of a fluid frame,
Waiting for the raindrop,
To capture an eternity.

Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust,
Speaketh she no more
Just the silent lust.
Fantasies fables folklore,
All they rust.

The voice of the nothing
Aching to speak,
Namelessness of the pain --
Invisible abyss.
I – no voice but just the I.

she spoke but then...

lay strangled

the death drone drumming in her ear

the air

morbid pungent

hollow promises

floating

rotting in their guts

the dirge of

the black waters

inhaling the

fragmented red shards of her being

words extinguished

in shadows

illumined grey

words slayed

violated

extinct
silence reigns
unscathed
unbidden
unchallenged
stoned memories
disappearing in liquid flames

dancing

celebrating

pyre of hope

but she spoke...

silence was sleeping when...

she spoke
words ran
basked in the sun
stole fruits
teased butterflies
nectar off the flowers
dew off the grass
they swam
in the clear
blue air
the ripples they made
drew people
used brushes
they shaped
she spoke
words played
hide and seek
myriad colours
angry red
shy black
innocent yellow
purple that rebel
and blue
my favourite
her favourite
she spoke
words galloped
they swam
they played
breathless
panting
sweating
troubled
embarassed
fervent
nervous
shy
contemplative
thinking
slowing down
sitting
catching their breath
calming down
they sleep
unsound
awakening tired silence
but she did speak