Daydream Believer

 

Daydream believer poem

My soul was flung to ‘heaven’,
a place which falls flat on is face.
My soul fell flat too before me,
pleading to get me out of this place.
In my death, I was not meant to live here,
my aim was not this mess of a place –
an imagination of some prophet before me
who stood standing there quite out of place.
Kindly lay me back down to die here,
when I’m gone, the earth will have what,
come what may.
While my mind is in tact
though my body might lack,
heaven is no place to me.
Bogie men and pixies don’t scare me,
lay me down where ‘angels’ don’t dare,
let me die as I am, human cycles
hell be damned; your voodoo won’t scare
or deny me.
We live and we die, own it.

… its called Biology

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Breakers

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This mortal coil
is all aches and follies; in its foil

I did all
with my bestest smiles,

until your singing guile saw me
and lingered,

and drew me up into your eyes –
and you snagged me,

sang to me,
said to me
all your dreams.

So,
here I am,
here I am, I linger –

in all your tomorrows as they wait
to hold you dear
in my bestest waters.

In usual waters
did you dream about me?

Were you hearing
when I was here?

E’en though you were sinking near,

Here I am, here I am,
save me
for your tomorrow.

In these breakers
be forgiven,

take me all you need,
needlessly.

Save me now,
save me forever;

sleep with me on infinity’s
sleeve.

Imprinted always in our minds,
but left abandoned in eternity.

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Darkness #Naani

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Your spirit
Restrained to a mere particle
A fleck in my eyes
I blink and you’re gone

A Naani is one of India’s most popular Telugu poems. Naani means an expression of one and all. It consists of 4 lines, the total lines consists of 20 to 25 syllables.  Check out a collection of them by Elaine at watermelonseeds.

Absolute: Zen

Inspired by things to do by Leonard Durso

Is it the wind ‘s form
that makes the sound of
the clouds?

Listen for those
invisible things
craved,
elusive;
out of reach
to those of us
that remain
out of touch
with ourselves.

Aeons
of particles,
all the same substance
in parcels
brought,
stay unopened,
microscopic forms –
captive to suspicious frowns
and eyes
that lightly finger.

Automatic assumptions
make it a scorpion
in brown paper packaging
that becomes
the Trojan horse
of our dreams –
forbidden
in daylight –
because we are prepared
for those who dare,

but we forget we are one,
everyone is made
of the same substance,
packaging is made
of the same – substance
has no name or form.
Energy, mind, God and matter
are all name and form.
Everything is made of the same;
if we only understood
ourselves,
we would be at peace.