one hundred twenty-one words

abyss_above_us

Yesterday there,
could have written
a poem, a tunnel
to something greater
than what we amassed
in many units
of cyclic century

I could have, yesterday.
Created a segment of fiction
that borrows truth as tool
and made universe
a cog in a bigger dream

Yesterday, there
was only need for one hundred
twenty-one words
to serve as ligament
between the earth
and a single
human heart

I could have, yesterday.
Covered my eyes, my eyes
with pungent dust and
swallowed the interior
of a cloud. Something vague
but elementary, could have
been spoken

Yesterday there,
could have left legacy
to some mad prophecy,
I could have dropped
an ounce of voice
into the hole
that is an abyss
above us.

Contemporary Poetry

the care of the self

care_of_self

When I awoke today
I looked at my exhausted limbs
and there – THERE was a wave of tremendum
shafts of wild fascination
hanging from every bit of skin
as by whim, as by holy pendulum
I’d like to judge and proclaim
the final voice is nothing but noise
I rage.
I remain.
Hidden in a territory that history does not interrupt.
A soft sinuous sense like solitude or silencing.
Oh man, how’ve danced and surrendered,
circling the city as a mote swerving around the shafts
of light in this barren room. Alive and extensions
of some unknown cause. Fluttering like a scream
in the barbarity of ignorance. I am proud, a huge
pound of ignorance. A huge pyramid of bliss.
I was a dream. A mirrored mirage.
But now, full of fascinatum
I have the holy stream of eternity
wasted as a shadow
below my feet.
I’ve spilled the moonshine over my bare breasts
in the agony of madness.

Contemporary Poetry

to be absurd

daylight_squirm

To be absurd from feeling to toe,
I’d punch the snow to disfigure
the torso of beauty
to join the mad soliloquists
the drunks and hopeless angels
with whales swimming in
their eyes of quivers.
Rapidly the curves of snowfall
impact the distant slums and they are
carrying pain too beautiful that we
stare and suffer. I cannot add a because,
a therefore, a necessity.
The event has sweetness
that only forgetfulness with relish.
I am too vague a vacuity too vain a villain,
being an absurd contemplator
the suspense of my erosion
is my only occupation.

and yeah, the feat of beauty
on daylight’s squirm.

 

Contemporary Poetry

amidst the formless

The Poetry of Awe

The face was carved out
Of sound and motion
Vision was clay of river
Through ages and lives
His face was the platform
Of transforming secret –
I was a full body of beer
Reeking smell of hallucination
The concept of man
Was the rustling leaf beyond the window?
My friend and I
Seeping into the occult layers of perception
Like rats of laughter we followed the maze
Unabashed by the terrible condition
The flaky reality we were inventing
At 6am of a holiday retreat
As automaton, as passion
The nude words of the intoxicated
As free bullets
Hunting the lie
Of the self.

My madness began at seven
Beautiful ineluctable madness
The sun was over the horizon
In wide strokes of light
Painting my ribs: the tress
The fields were windows
Clear lucid germ of becoming
My skin was everywhere
Like an atmosphere of beams
My song was the sadness
The pain
The burden
The guilt
In that bath of purity
My mouth was full
Swelling with
The verb of awe

Nihilism Poetry

mental impairment

Dead_Animal_Slaughter

Blood
what is it?
we spill it
in the sea, land, air,
it moves: shoot it/sell it
my eyes
retreat
their swollen veins
as synonym to animals
I feel the guilt
here in cluster city
army by determinism
the sapiens beast
beasts of language
consuming and plunder!
irradiant ecosystems
Judge,
I plead guilty
punishment: stupidity
yes,
bereft of innocence
I walk towards the sea
with suicidal venom
leaving behind
the machinery of pain
I fueled;
for what am I
to say what’s right or
wrong.

madness

 

 Madness is the
irrevocable

like the powerful sun

shining waste

over 40 blocks of metal
 
 
 

 

strings that form a braid

braids stitch  on us

thirsty loneliness

a mile machines

cannot reach

 

find me a gulp

of eternity, an inch

of Godhead

I’ll stop the soft drugs

coffee, sugar, TV

if you promise twenty

forty years ahead

I will encounter timelessness 

 

madness is the irrevocable

     a table

with all the books of genius

and a noose
 
 
 

 

to sleep!

where my wakeful hallucination

finds its soul mate: dreams

 

madness the

  irrevocable

two hours before two

      more hours

 

 I shit and eat
and fathom the origins
    of the universe
tears come because I am
    trapped between
centuries
       amongst idiots
 reaping nothingness
 

I cry because

madness consumed

all intelligence and determination –

the endless parade of perception

       of one day

exchanged for 24 hours

60 minutes

seconds of oblivion

 

and eternity

that never kills but

transforms

 

madness is the

   irrevocable

a hopeless trap

within the miracle

         of existence

 

Nihilistic Poetry