Dreading the fictions and their inner imaginings willingly embracing the poetry in those eager fingers / Unforgiving Eyes / Will you remember those words W h e n y o u a r e o l d - W h e n s h e ’ s g o n e ? Poetry soldiers missing in action— silent whispers that do not speak wonders, yet reveal half truths / Unforgiving Lies / Will you remember their words W h e n s h e’ s o l d - W h e n y o u ’ r e g o n e ? Dreading the fictions and their inner imaginings willingly embracing the poetry in those eager fingers / Unforgiving Minds / Like the poetry soldiers missing in action— yearning for fictions to evolve from abstractions Minds, eyes, white lies, soft words— barely whispered— under b l a z i n g e n e m y s k i e s
Month: Jan 2022
the colour of your dreams
I often get lost in your canvas p a l a c e My hands all dirty with old p a i n t What’s the colour of your dreams? I d a r e a s k Yet you never utter a single w o r d So I strive to find my answer in ink s k e t c h e s * I often get lost in your canvas p a l a c e My hands all dirty with old p a i n t What’s the colour of your dreams? I d a r e a s k Those undecipherable ink s t r o k e s Paint pirouettes that won't tell any t a l e s * My dreams are sometimes coloured y e l l o w — with a dash of b l u e — Your eyes closed, while I get lost in the true opacity of those abstract i m a g e s So I let all shades sink in— colouring your reverie back to r e a l i t y
the raconteur
Raining feathers misty light the sound of a waterfall nursing me into sleep Vigilant feelings bleeding into free-wheeling thoughts, a window about to swing open— one I didn’t want to see through The widowed tales of nighttime dreams, the ones I tried to tell by heart— with the worldly decorum of the raconteur Raining feathers misty light the sound of a waterfall nursing me into sleep