The Symbolic Realm

Would you want to walk into
a tender moment
when the earliest hours
of a promising dawn
peep through the dark curtains
of night and show the delicate
skin of her eyelids
lined with shy sleep?

Would you want to wake up
on a regular morning
full of drab jobs ahead,
to the sunrays playing on her face?
You shade her skin with a hand
that protects and caresses,
as she snuggles up a bit more,
all untidy, messy yet innocent.

Would you want to live through a dusty
day full of travel and tiresome troubles
and crisscross work tables conjoined
at the hips -- pending and reserved?
Yet interwoven with shades of a
laughter and surprised, enveloped messages
across a cup of coffee or sunday cooking together.

Would you hope to share her thrills at
a consumerist evening, window-shopping?
Or would you want to put a rose
in her hand on her stressed days
and surrender in her silly comforts
when you have had a stupid problem?

Would you love to lick an icecream
and walk with her through roads
choked with traffic jam, giving a damn
to the spaceless inferno around,
when you have her and your own feet
to walk on, and this heavily junk city.

Would you close your eyes and drench
yourself in the first monsoon rain
or a sudden shower that would tell
stories of a childhood, or a college memory
or some distant forgotten melodies?
Would you close your eyes and remember
the first love of your life or an old poem?
Interlocked fingers, old stories, drops of rain on faces

Would you desire to light a candle
and float it in a glass bowl,
water decked with rose petals?
A soft music plays in your heart
as you hold her close, too close
and a slow dance
shadows shivering on the walls...

Would you want a walk
under the silver moonlight,
hand in hand and a content whispering
of wet grass under your feet, about
a completeness found under the sylvan skies?

Its all here
in this beautiful life.
Come
Unlock
the chest of mysteries.

Seed

I fold my legs

dig my chin into my knees

and close my fists tight.

Shut my eyes

close my ears

reduce myself

into a foetus

and wish I was never born

being undone thus.

Half weeping

half hoping

half awake

half sleeping

unnerved

scared

fearing a loss

deep inside.

I stretch out my arms

and want to belong

want to be loved

and cared for

a kiss

a tender touch

a breath of assurance.

Where do I find a shelter

for my hurt being?

Cut into pieces and scattered

over the dust and burnt.

I can only weep

and turn like a wheel

from love to despair

from dreams to loss

and be left alone

to put back everything

like a jigsaw puzzle.

I want to go back

into the dark amniotic sac

and the cerebral presence

the umbilical cord

my trace into the womb.

Better still

the zygotic meosis stopped

and me only a possibility.

An idea of a daughter.

Undo me

O undo me, mother!

connections

The mind sets on its own journey

when the heart trembles softly

at the soft buds of blossoms white.

Passions about to bloom at dawn.

Closed eyes see, hear and feel

words, dialogues and essences

that have not any foundings in

reality. Dismissed as idle dreams

they float on heavy air and fade.

Only to come back sometime later

as reality in a sweetly surprised

world of truths and tactile existence.

I wonder how that happens.

Interconnection of thoughts...

moulded into actions and existences...

a connection that cannot be whisked away

as another idle thought or wishful thinking.

Being together on another level

not merely imaginary but perhaps telepathic.

How much has unconscious connections unlocked?

Not merely the heart but a chunk of mind.

What would we call it? what can it be called?

Wonder if you too can feel my bliss

and breath in the air around you.

Wonder if I can listen to your heartbeat

by touching my own pulse ....

The Name

A moment

strikes

like blue lightning

and freezes

in an instant

the throbbing mind

the restless heart

the anxious thoughts

and unquiet silences

framed upon panes of

memories and yearnings.

Fingers had touched

on wet sand

the Name.

The air has breathed

the words many times

with its soulful existence.

The flowers have shaken

their yellow petals

to trace the Name

etched on the soft soil.

A timeless ageless act

rehearsed over and over again.

Over mountains and oceans

rivers and terrains

of green or brown

or ash

the mind has run like

wild beasts

or supersonic sound,

looking for the Name

one has lost or fears to lose.

And then

the moment

that was awaited

with trembling perfection

arrives

and freezes

like

eternity.

Eyes do not meet.

Breathing halts.

Only an invisible

string binds something

somewhere in a deep embrace.

Never to untie again

Not in this life.

Nameless

Beyond closed lids in intimate darkness

A face sketches itself in light

Crayons of moments past

Fills its unmasked expressions

Of unrepressed joy and surrender

Submission to the feelings frothing

underneath an exterior carefully made-up.

Drowning in layers of silk and

chocolatey butter bliss and kiss

of unnamed smiles drenched with

purple mystery and lavender breaths,

I ask myself questions that have

no answers or perhaps lack the answerer.

Words and the power of words.

Faith and the quest of belief.

Trust and the strength of enamour.

The brown darkness engulfs all senses

and shows me deep inside

the silver arc yearning completion.