She thinks what she shouldn’t think she says what she shouldn’t say and when Athena’s curse beckons a Medusa, the woman becomes.
How sweet is the forbidden fruit? How deep is the most unkindest cut? How blinding can be the mirror? How far is too far for her? Over there where glows no lantern she walks, in defiance, beyond all return.
I’m no silhouette that intruded your sleep or an apparition that rustled the leaves Neither an incubus that strangles the meek nor an omen that unleashes the evil streak. I’m nothing, ‘cause I turned into a stone lost in the labyrinth of tresses that hissed not a woman but it's a Medusa that I kissed.
You knew you believed the letters and the words they, indeed, piled up like Alps in the clouds. The shelves of your study the lanes of your memory. You thought, on that day, the faith would rise up like a Griffin out of the Ebony woods but it’s just that you didn’t know when the last of the dark winds blow it’s all ashes and dust.
You knew you loved that heart and that countenance abounding in a castle raised in the rains on a gloomy cape with a looming hope dreaming by the ramparts of flags of peace and blissful seas and you thought tomorrow would dawn anyway like the kingdom of high out of the frescoes in sky but it’s just that you didn’t know when the last of the dark winds blow it’s all ashes and dust.
Rising again to the shining skies a smile within, but contempt outside got an avalanche of words that won’t be spoken and a houseful of feelings to carefully hide. This tongue isn’t enough to unveil the heart for words deceive our ways into a winless war only these eyes open the doors of burning fire but baby, we are so close yet so far.
We rush through these alleys in search of something crossing all the miles with this rock on our head we put up a face that speaks words in millions but know not what it is until it’s dead. Truth embraces these four walls of blinding darkness for daylight reveals the painful and bleeding scar hearts long for each other, but hands don’t reach ‘cause baby, we are so close yet so far.
We ‘re making this journey beyond the end of road places we passed have turned desolate and cursed can’t read these lines of the book of our life for vain is everything that we saw and touched. Put on new clothing, but this heart’s always the same it’s time that moves on while we stay where we are. The road we take to go is the road we need to return but baby, we are so close yet so far.
My face is melting like a candle of shame bones are burning in this tormenting flame fences are circling the thoughts that stream yet, blood in my veins is calling your name. Voices and dances are filling shrill silence lone red rose and I wait while fortunes spar for it’s Valentine’s Day, if you still remember but baby, we are so close yet so far.
The idea of love, so alluring through - an hour and a half on screen fictitious paperback leaves lines of bard’s dreams and top of the charts surging down the air streams.
The doors fling open for that special someone to walk in. The season of love, when it arrives attesting indoctrinations, it connives. Anxiety of suit and gown see nuptials through leaving two lives under that one wretched roof. Ego’s esteem shrinks space contradictions bursting in face moments dressed in incompatible fads pound the whimsy mirage to rags. Matinee idols turn zombies, best sellers - a preposterous trash chartbusters fall mum under stark reality’s lash. Domestic wrangles, court room tangles explicate the futility, though late.
Revulsion wrenched heart limps back to work and on a misty evening of wreck when that whisper fondles the ear that aromatic dinner in candle glare lets the heart’s doors creak to trudge once more through the bluff’s creek.
Not once down this tedious rove could grasp this enigma riddled entity named love.
I’ve come a long way from home over the mountains of wailing blood and bone. I found my love in the distant fields of snow and lost it in the summer of an avenging sun. I’m a traveler and have been to many a land and always held this good book in my hand Sometimes, I ask myself, “Why on earth am I here?” maybe I got my own cross to bear. I’m a traveler, I know, I can’t help or maybe I’ve been running from myself.
I’ve seen the naked skin on the ribcage of starvation a hundred outstretched hands for one piece of bread peeped into the eyes that got nowhere to look walked through the rotting squalor of paper and mud heard the voices of guile and whispers of deception lying buried in sickness in the forsaken isles of flood. Sometimes, I ask myself, “Why on earth am I here?” maybe I got my own cross to bear. I’m a traveler, I know, I can’t help or maybe I’ve been running from myself.
Tonight, I’m alone on the streets of this strange town ain’t got no friend to meet, and no place where I belong the whistles of police cars, the rumbles of subway trains and the chuckles of passing girls are the only familiar things. My back’s to the wall and I blow air into the cups of my hands it’s cold, baby, maybe you look to hide me in your wings. I don’t know where I’m heading, but I know where I’m from girl, I’m beat and wanna last till I go home I don’t ask for a fire and there’s nothing that I desire this one night, let me stay in a corner of your eye at daybreak, I go trek a myriad miles and yet find my home too far away. Baby, sometimes, I ask myself, “Why on earth am I here?” maybe I got my own cross to bear. I’m a traveler, I know, I can’t help or maybe I’ve been running from myself.
If purple graces a butterfly’s wings yellow embraces the other unique nectar and fragrance manifest in each blooming flower some set apart by stipples some stand out in color. Every sparrow chirps in its distinct fashion varying flecks on each Kingfisher’s bosom. Every creeping python crawling lizard, humming bee, aquatic beauties swimming the sea each kind is different from its own that’s the splendor of life of being alive under the sky of rainbow and sun.
So was man before books bent his back with a hunch and his tender feet were enchained to classroom’s bench.
Reading unending rows of alphabet fonts of print on paper bellowed out repetitions that taught the same charter - think alike, know alike and be alike.
I was barked at with canes whipped on the buttocks knelt on the burning ground of pains sat on thin air with my back to the wall and shamed for being different from all. The word is “discipline,” but they instilled fear claiming to groom, they robbed every year manufacturing puppets faceless and formless a machination for machine tools of a dumb army of robots.
My soul was arrested mind was cremated and heart was broken, I didn’t know. Like a flying bird, a sheep in the grazing herd, a swaying lily in the valley, and a Herring in shoals of merry I discovered not myself. I know histories of distant lands and mysteries of cosmos mathematics on both hands and lingua franca of hosts have a computer on palm but know not who I am!
A new tycoon ascended the tabloid pit confiscated accolades profusely writ he unlocked his product, a disguised beast invented new needs for the susceptible meek patrons of impositions, his slaves to be entangled in a jumble closely knit.
Caged universal tongue is unshackled resurrecting the dead tower of Babel Then, confounded tongues freed many on the unfound common ground under a diverse canopy. Now, sow old seeds again till farthest reach owners of one market can easily reap.
Dollars and Euro at hand for borrow faces, races, human spaces lined up in sky scrapper’s shadow. All rise to the new empire east city, west city and ethnicity no bar welcome benevolent multi-national Czar with affluent glitzy palaces of power ride on the impoverished third world horse by the closed shop of the universal slave dragging his stinky hearse.
Never trust an old friend said my old man strolling these cordial shores of golden palms my tender feet followed him adoring the vacillating colors of sky kissing the boisterous sea this is where thunderous peace is.
Sea is a work place an unfathomable treasure trove our boats feed on the village is its child raised in the cradle of sands, rocked by the southern winds
The sea was also an old friend a vengeful friend is worse than a furious foe my old man would say you won’t see him come and go
Carols are ringing at the crack of dawn festive embellishments are swaying in cold winter breeze seabirds are vying for the virgin sky in haste and the sea leapt with outstretched extremities devouring its own child. On that day, the friend became an enemy the giant called tsunami took away with him everything the sea has given me.
Hey brother, this bus takes us home all it takes is crossing this bridge of stone
This breeze’s stroking my face much like her tresses she was my classmate and now my daughter’s mother I didn’t look into her eyes when I said so long and God bless but I promised a better home that no storms could wither. And for them, it’s all gonna change forever tonight I’m going back home after a long wait I have bags full of caring heart taking ’em home never to depart. Hey, young man in the next seat Do you have a mother or sister waiting for you to greet? Well, this bus takes us home all it takes is crossing this bridge of stone.
You have that look on your face maybe your heart’s pounding hard your shirt is wet with sweat something’s beneath, you’re trying to guard! This journey goes on, if we desire or together we walk the lake of fire. Back at home, they’ll hold us breathing in their arms or eaten by locust. Yes, this bus takes us home all it takes is crossing this bridge of stone.
You chose to be here I’m here by sheer chance together we’re destined to journey across this promised expanse. We passed through these gates and shared these empty seats as darkness surrounds, we look at each other this ticket in our hands can end it here or move us further as this bus takes us home all it takes is crossing this bridge of stone.
On my way to Tel Aviv in tomorrow I still believe someday, this world we’d leave meanwhile, there are dreams to weave. As sun goes down on this Friday home awaits us in candle’s ray there is peace and rest on the other side in each others' blood we do abide and take this ride into the even tide. Hey brother, this bus takes us home all it takes is crossing this bridge of stone.
The unsuspecting sun rose, as usual, in the mute skies for one last journey over a ground prepared to be betrayed faithful orchards grown to be forsaken brick walls of mannequin lives built for desolation.
Dry and dead blood is crying from deep sludge shadows from the past standby and watch for the blithely hops of the blissful kids roars of engines rolling languid time’s wheels congregation’s ardent recitations and toasts of wine here - will not be heard again.
The obdurate synagogue door has fallen human hands knit with veins hold on to the dying bond like worms curling together, defying the whirling storm. Rows of eyes stare in and swim the piercing odious waters gushing in to flush out the remains of forgotten warriors. Yet, slippery orange hands wave the fluttering wet blue star on a crumbling roof of rumbling dreams.
Sun is being evicted from his sky.
The inevitable feet of the takers arrive.
One last blast of Shofar and a tearful shalom soon, I'll be far away from home - Kfar Darom.
Those years made me a destitute child I swam across the swamps and ran through the wild the grass, everywhere I slept, went dry and dead fields in the vicinity yielded no bread
Thirst in my throat squeezed up my guts my back was scarred and feet had cuts I looked to the heavens and prayed for the rain while my spirit yearned for you in tenacious pain
It gets so lonely here the moonlight and roses violins and candles are nothing but gone Yet, memories of you do linger on.
I woke up when it began to happen....
a distant thunder lit up the desert of desolation the stench of mud filled the bowels of isolation Here it is..... now, the flowers will bloom back and the birds will return to their rack. Seasons, that are gone, will be again made the tears of tribulation will soon fade Here it is.....far away in exile, I was waiting for the rain all my life but when it came, you were not there.
Through my days of angst I hear you speak at times as a pleasant whisper or as a still voice from deep you talk of inscrutable grasslands and misty rain from cloud nine they lug me up the stairs of hell and get me going again. Your smile is my hideaway to it I retreat undulating in times olden I stay.
Taj Mahal stands bright on the table watch on my wrist is beating anthology of shirts in my wardrobe quietly wait all tokens of adulation you sent my way. Each night, across the cavernous darkness I elongate my hand to retrieve you all it can clasp are letters from a lost kingdom and pictures in the photo album.
After years, yesterday, against the rising sun you stood a few yards from me by the door of your stately mansion like a fairy adorned in celestial apparel. Behind the rolled up car window that crossed a thousand miles I concealed myself from you your hubby drove to office and you are a mother of two.
Daffodils brushing the windowpane are moist sun’s lethargic at work a gentle nibble at the outstaying mountain mist. Dahlias by the rock unwrap a reluctant yawn awakened by petulant honks afar still, abode’s shadows refuse to seep over the trimmed lawn. Fleet shoe taps pour down on the corridor giggles of cousins out of the festooned car door. Spruced up church in the valley, tick-tock on wall and cuckoo call hasten my shower and all. Then descends your perfumed fragrance I know where you are I slip into my room, there you are. A smile, a laugh, a focused look, mellowed expression and a cock-a-snook - unnerved nor overawed by time.
We dreamed of marital bliss, planned a perfect means here you are in my arms behind closed screens. My fingers play on your face, my eyes pierce yours mumbling words imprecise; yet, you prefer not to speak, ignoring my intense peek. My breath is hard on your tresses untouchable they are, so it passes and a knock on the door invades privacy you bother not to see. My fingers let go the dark cardboard flap. It falls on you, fettering my craving view. I slide your memories filled drawer in and stand up for a walk down the smoggy green strips. Hereafter, I bid you farewell each time I kiss those strange consort’s lips.
From a distance like a worm as if out of eternity it crawls along the infinite ladder fallen to the ground swells slowly into a gargantuan metal serpent growling and snorting fumes it arrives loud speakers declare its presence I stare at her - she walks away raucous voices around me go muffled and I stand in a crowd of shadows she sits in its belly, iron bars cross my vision it’s her cage and my prison on spheres of tides unseen. It growls and snorts again wheels beneath its belly roll with an ugly din of tearing away metal serpent swerves and becomes a worm I stand alone among the shadows on the callous platform and it vanishes into eternity...... I long to crush its head but it always took her away and bruised my heel.
On foot down the blustery savanna grubby farmer said he saw her. Long indolent time lapsed since she left my world for a higher clamber. Holding close under the umbrella as hale stones hurled in or roving the raft home in concert across the midnight rain, at shooting stars making a wish or turning the backs in anguish this heart’s choked with her memories, my guests at every dine. Sprinting down the verdant knoll “I saw her,” wheezed out the twelve-year-old, “she’s moseying along the old castle’s corridor.” Though she’s back in town, I was eschewed.
Dead moon deserted the murky sky wolves howl out misty smokes with the resonance of a dirge in blood congealing chill, led by torch’s slender shaft groping through eerie castle halls, for her I search. With lungs filled with the stench of yore, I stayed put prelude to the day dawned, but she eluded. Obscured skies were quietly dripping pity and yowls of the castle hounded me as I turned and walked. I’m dressed up in my best suit.... I crave to ask her why ? Only one such place to air my query I rested the rose on gravestone as its letters blurred in my eyes I whispered to her breaking the calm of cemetery "Sorry about forgetting your death anniversary."
Hiss of night’s riding the wings of concealed wind sailing over the frosty cliffs unknown to the eagles' eyes sprinkling white flakes it gobbled at the distant snowy rind into the mane of weeping trees, with a snoopy heart that pries
I’m all dressed in black and my Tuxedo’s flawless moods are in excess and boots are getting restless
The sky is studded with flickering patrician gems purple cloud is wavering like an impish glossy veil moonlight’s spilt on whispering woods by heaven’s realms moorlands are basking in mountain breeze’s blessed sail
dishes you love are served our table is well reserved
Olive leaves are wringing in luminous slender blue floral pristine aroma’s emanating from every nook serene green valley is coaxing the glum spirits that rue with cornfield’s golden glitter and a sparkling silver brook
violins are playing and candles were lit jasmines and champagne are all well set
Evening haze’s descending on the verdant mounds ambiance is dappled with clusters of quails that fill quixotic tinge is floating beyond the lyrical bounds precious moments are flying like a fidgety seagull quill
all things are in place but for your splendid grace
The music’s withering away I’m alone and can dance no way it’s an opulent table, but is turning cold tantalizing night is fast growing old menu’s losing its flair curtains are donning a vacant stare and I’m still sitting in my chair wishing for the scent of your hair.
Galloping clock is haughty but your chair is still empty as I keep on waiting.............. ........to dine with you tonight.
Pink prim rose mottled with shimmering jewels of water is on the dashboard, longing to be passed on to her hands. Ring carved out of heart and born to dazzle her finger is waiting on me. Nothing’s like the unexpected, it becomes a memory taken to the grave surprised and thrilled she would be, when I say those words on one knee. And I rehearse them a zillion times as Springsteen sings to none but the brave.
Full faced moon’s looking into my eyes as giggles of stars surround trees rush past me like caged beasts blowing their tresses along envious roaring wind hits and falls, jeering my boorish wheels’ rage I squeeze the rear view mirror again and reassure my suave image.
Iridescent campus lights greet me like castaways out of darkness my anxious car races at her hostel, down the deserted lanes. Then I pull the brakes and spin it amid whines of pain of rubber I drive back into town, to my cold and stony cave. Behind the shrubbery, I saw her shadow blend in night with another nothing’s like the unexpected, it becomes a memory taken to the grave.
With her I ride into spheres timeless and spaces nameless unwrapping the blindfolded fruit forbidden in Eden. Burdened with the emptiness of a lie too loud to confess this page would be torn sooner than it is written.
Clothes woven of arrogant pride are shed in thirst nakedness shines draped in innocent-but-true skin. Breath filled bubbles of lust float and burst sap of wily lips bind fragility with an Iscariot’s grin.
Now, she has to return to him and I to my dreams. For a moment, I turn back to stop her forever when her culpable eyes hark back hopes vanquished by the parched streams. We slide away from each other into the living time, and disappear.
I’m a small town boy from the streets of debris without you, it was too empty
I took a train to the big city walked around with shoes soaked in my town’s mud and sad country songs of the old and dead. Here, I’ve seen them all come and go they were none just specks in the flow. Wherever I went in this big city without you, it’s nothing but empty.
Crossed the continents and seven seas to the land of plenty. Those who couldn’t make it never came those who could, never remained. It’s the same old sun on the tattered horizon and without you, today is as empty as yesterday‘s dawn.
I closed my eyes and drifted away a caterpillar, from one hole to the other I woke up and saw butterflies repugnant souls transmuted into beauty I loafed around in gardens of glory dawdled by the streams of silky sheen but no one was ever seen though I heard them yell for they just went to hell. My town’s mud is still kissing my shoes six-string sounds and sad songs sweat through my pores I think of my small town and its streets of debris though I came to paradise for without you, this too is empty.
Fortune is celebrated and later forgotten, but misfortune stays buried deep inside like a wound that would never heal. Life would go on; however, misfortune overtakes the fortune for a few. The winner takes it all, so I write about the loser, the expendable, that small fry, that little guy, that fall guy......that underdog! These could be a few poetic narratives of the unfortunate or this could just be a routine recitation of life’s most common accusations against that which couldn’t be.... and that which wouldn’t be. Please forgive my doodles.
