gazing sky to graze you

as i stop to listen to the heartbeat
of those i am expected to serve
and those connected to my life,
(marked only by that simple fact –
a geographical accident –
while some may suggest
a transcendental incident) –
i clearly fail to feel your feet

even as i habitually name you
in that absent presence
there are those who protest
and many more ignore
my naming that appears too comical

elsewhere, in my life, i see
those who came to defeat me
stand defeated
but i do not think victorious
in my mind that likes to shun pain
that can creep like a leech to suck
my blood until i fall dead
hence i refuse to praise you
considering that game so silly

so, i stand here early this dawn
gazing at an empty sky
grazing for a star, or a cloud pattern
in which i may sense you
that may lift my soul
and prompt my journey to continue
until i fall dead
or, cease to consume more emptiness

Note: I watered and waited for eight years to see these flowers - over fifty blooms -in my living room.

living the dying truth

the mud they slung on my body
has penetrated into my soul
through my clothing and skin
confirming my vulnerable mind

hence i pray that you install
in me the mind of christ
to let go all that comfort
i seek, while against pain i rebel

help me drop off those garments
in which i have put too much trust
until i stand, nay, hang in loincloth
and to you, my soul, i entrust

assist me to part my wife
my best support, and daughter
my joy, and stop my cry for ties
that ties me to a sore filled world

inspire me to plod ahead
in my journey to golgotha
that life through death
to enliven the dying truth

my twisted leg

while resting off my usual walking trail
under the same tree that for years
gave shade to my soul i felt

an ugly earthquake shake free that shade
into a rotten shadow that fell
on me breaking my leg and

dislodging my heart to a stoppage
but one that soon lifted to let my spirit
continue its walk

now with a twisted leg dragging
a naked wounded foot hard
for the other fit foot to shift

on this journey
of me now looking
for my boot a root

imperfect faith

i see the like-minded people
like jelly fish jamming jointly
confirming the ancient truth:
birds of the feather flock together

even a thin transcendent faith
fails to enable a going beyond
the race, language and culture
that blinds the common factor

that same blood flowing
in that multitude of variety
of humans with varied
caste, colour, and creed

ps. Photo provided by Gitanjali Victor

lost coins

a silver coin and a gold
i did carry, carefully, in my wallet

first, i lost the silver coin
that i found after some pain
(that troubled my soul, my heart)
and a diligent search

then, i lost the gold
and this time in a shit pit
(where i also lost my mind)
to chase the lost coin

ps. Photo provided by Gitanjali Victor

some sleep

my thoughts are a million stones pelted
against the inner walls of my head
that twists and turns and rolls on this bed
with the juices of cunt and cock still rank
though deserted by my two-faced whore-wife

would my skull be able to stumble to sleep
if i would lay it instead on my couch

sleeplessness

sneaking into my night, like a snake
sleeplessness came in
and have curled within my soul
hissing at me every time i went into snooze

it was that woman that shared my bed
those days, when my coins created music
that released this creepy creature
but now that spine-chilling persists within

my heart, my mind as if that has been
my second nature, my twin brother
thus that insomnia insists on sharing inheritance
when my hard toil of day deserves a longer nap