Unnamed

Some tribal blood seeped in the mass and made the genetic clock strike an age each passing year…
Some tadpole songs and cricket lyric surge like volume in the tub of moody silence
Bandaged in brown paper and threaded in soul, the lips incorporate fabric passion.
I, remember the distance of grass between our thought-shops,
And darkness creeping silently, down the edge like a spider over its prey…
And the moon with the lamp in its womb
Seated on then floor of the firmament!

He, beaded his words like a careful monger selling marbles to instant urchins
The gossamer eyes plied his wits in deliberate smoke
That crawled out like a nested woman of the pipe…
The sweat of metal that perched on the steel bars
Sung more carefully in my hands
Than the beat that pierced my ears like fossilized danglers;
His generosity nevertheless shall nest in my cage forever…

The opium seller lived in the college backyard, in the woods among the silver poppies
In a little brown cottage with mermaid skin hung all over…
He planted some wild Sargasso in his bathing tub…
And culled his designs from the imprints on a snake’s body,
(You see them many sucking wine of the quintessential poppies!)
and from … the remnants confiscated by dreams that wreathe on the bed of the sea!
With red chords in the eyes that speak of the mutiny of inner manifestations…

Emotions breed in the hem of all our skirts: few seek refuge in the fresh beam o youth,
Few metamorphose into maturity with hard and stubborn wings
Few unlearn the poetry of its birth and few camouflages in the slightest ray of moment…
And some standstill in the breath of wind
When through the gates of silk-lane, counting beans of contemplation,
He unreels his self in stories of unarmed green knightsSurrendering to one smile wrecked face, laboring to survive amidst charming cactuses!