Addressed to such …

In sempiternal shades of perfect perfection,
Lay a form with serene affection,
My vitality waned in fickle reflection,
Of the moment I beheld such satiation.

Woman of unfathomable beauty,
Silken skin and so fine a form,
A Heshbon of eyes, a beautiful norm,
A lock of gold off the shapely deity.

I would cringe to walk by
Without saying such,
Yet would I kneel and kiss
Your gentle hand?

In the purple blossoms you sail free
Ridding the drear off the vast champaign
I find myself pretzel bended_
While like clay, moulded me into forms unseen

In simple misery,
I regress to digress,
Of how I may regret,
If I pass without a say!

Nay you shall not wreath
A flowery bend for two,
For so I know it too
We can only stare_ ’tis true.

Your deliciously spelled mien
Encase me in deliberate awe,
Capsulated time; frozen true_
Seized me in throes of respect and envy.

Yet I muse aware – odes can only be expressed,
Even when much isn’t to be gained,
For the pain a dither soul endures from words unsaid
Is bitter and unfathomable in this fickle life!


River of angst

Life is hard, that I swear.
Stuck on the banks, perpetually snaking,
In wild commotion went the flow,
As if afraid of the blow,
Shrieking above as if laden with witches.
Phantoms from my past are now catching up,
Ugly like a corpse that’s rotting slowly.
I took a stroll, caught on a straw_
don’t swallow me now river of angst.

Wash my woe, undrape my pain.
Cloaked by night I desire to retire
and follow the flow till I get to him.
Who’s become a lilac silhouette
against darkening skies.
In a night with no stars he left me behind.

River of angst
Undress my thirst
Let it as bones bare itself the tender
flesh of my tender gash,
Lash out in a wrath heaven never fathomed
and a fury hell hath not brewed yet.
From the bitter bile that has substituted
the mellow sweet nectar of my soul.

I know not of the erring of humanity,
nor the penance offered by the divine.
My blood cries, screams, yearns for sweet retribution.
Following you river of angst into the abyss,
were sacrifices are made.
I sacrifice our memories for my sanity,
that can only be bought when I am appeased.

From you I drinketh,
Fill my chalice with divine providence,
Tame my shame and cleave my fate
I grope in the shroud of solace.
Feet chilled by what lies beneath
Still I search for the swallow’s nest,
inaccessibly perched on the unimaginable.
The evitability of his return seem so rusty,
Yet I revel in the illusion of victory.

Ignite my path with thy serene glow
and forge my legend, aloof I stand.
Venal maids can’t pervert the heart of he who I cherish,
He left in a rush; I blush to say there is someone he forgot.
With unfathomable melancholy,
I lament the loss of his touch.
A chill as cold as the trail he abandoned back to my heart.
Like the foolish horse who abandoned his cart,
My lover wasn’t so smart, the warmest part I saved him,
He ruthlessly punctured with a dart.

Mith, cFAS

Plight of Sailors

We set our sails
As we leave these docks.
Ashore we set,
Aboard the beagle.
New worlds we shall roam,
Fortune we shall bring.
We sing in the wind
With the waves ululating.
Knots we multiply,
This sea drives us.
Rare species we are,
Nearly married to the fishes.
What will they make of us?
Our wives are nearly widows.
Hurray! We sing.
One day we shall return.
Docks full to the brim,
With gifts for children
Not known to us.

Suburban bliss

The suburban bliss on a May summer night
Pinched in the face by the distant June’s cold
Passing the baton to that of July
Blistering cold with an obscene face on
Molesting empty streets lit in suburban glow
Augustus winds ravaging all they can
Bathed in aromas relayed from door to door
A little relief in the month I was born
September, the amber for another suburban night
Then October the octopus with odd tentacles
Coming alive in a dream on a pimp’s yard
With not but an anchor to hack unripe wombs
Blood on slit tummies, the goriness of it all
Inducing pain on poor souls in the heat of October
As I by the trashcans stray and stare
At the hood resplendent in such inverted bliss
As the maid gasps with a gaping mouth
Shackled in a dream like some divine duality
‘The Octopian Conjecture’ like in some Mayday episode
The suburban bliss on a May summer night
Evaporated in the heat of a wicked dream
A stranger to kids lying in darker places
Prone to touts of pleasantries on naked platters
Thus the moon shied away and deserted the night
All in my sight before I could howl!