HER

Till the blood won’t rise and the tears won’t stop

Till the well is drawn till without a drop

Till the sword bloody to the sheath is brought

Till then she won’t stop

Till the cup has dried and to the lips has brought

A slight twitch and fervor hot

Till the tremble is seen and the favor sought

Till then she won’t stop

Till the wound is deep and red and wrought

By trenches of pain yet to clot

Yet to bury beneath the burning hot

Till then she won’t stop

Till the giants are leashed and the wolves betroth

Till the slayers are reduced to the wounded lot

Till the eyes have mustered the last tear drop

Till then she won’t stop

Till every memory is not

Wrapped in woven silk cloth

Presented with ceremony at very thought

Till the little chase is not

Just a foolish childish plot

Till fingers not in thorns caught

The roses pruned and perfect got

Till the evening does not

Last the night and cease to stop

And every fancy, every whim, every thought

Not to a pedestal brought

Till then she won’t stop

TRAPPED

A soul once shimmering now simmers

On the shores of sanity quivers

Torn between the heart and mind

Between sunset and the rising tide

One step back to safety drawn

One forward, one life is gone

Feet sink in the shifting sand

Half water, half land

It’s getting dark; the tide pulls strong

Towards nothing but vast unknown

Behind lies the world I know

Where once resigned I have to go

A little longer in the dark I’ll stay

Maybe wonder maybe pray

Unsteady before the steady breeze

Thoughts flit like gulls from rock to reef

Slowly I turn around

My thoughts in the city drown

Where naked bodies lie wrapped in cloaks

Where another day at night I’ll soak

Be happy with the rising dark

Shadows replaced by harmless barks

Another evening I may return

Toward the surf and the setting sun

And take hope see it go

The coming day again will glow

SOME ONLY STAND

A bread basket kept for days

Dead futile and lonely lay

Grown green with passing time

Buried under fungi and green algae

A sparrow through an open window came

Hopped around, clutched a crumb

Shook its head, nodded, flew out again

The monsoon through an open window came

Sprayed the basket, trickled around

With the passing clouds disappeared again

Moonshine came star light came

Stirred nothing disturbed nothing

With the rising sun weak became

Storms through the open window came

Dry ones that sprinkled it with dust

Dust a constant companion became

Through crevices and nooks and corners

Crawling over table legs some ants came

Each one mountains of crumb carried and left

The basket is empty, now nothing remains

The window lay open for a long time

The basket laid waiting for the breeze

Not a leaf shook, nothing came

It too, like every regular

Now only a guest became

NIGHT

Red lights and white and green

In the darkness of deafening beats

Spinning on stilettos and three inch heels

Black dresses swirl emotions twirl

Around little fingers of dainty girls

The night is daunting; still young

Fiery spirits tempestuous and drunk

Boisterous and loud, louder than the thump

Vices drowning vices drowning voices

Eyes moving across an ocean of choices

Pleasure more arousing than conscience

A spectator of life watches

Amused steps out for a breath of air

“Isn’t it fun?” A fellow blares

The Zippo moves from hand to hand

Lighting fires, cupping manicured hands

All for a kiss from precious lips

The night sways to jiving hips

The music will at dawn abate

By then the inner voice will fade

Lust will then begin to grope

Beneath silky skirts and trendy robes

Scorching emotions the road will burn

To either house the car will turn

Passions of the night will sink with the rising sun

For another night they’ll wait

Another night another mate

HAREM

In the by-lanes of a city large

There is a hidden house

Its four walls contain within them

Malice deceit and mental drought

Doors open to friends and strangers

Here, arms open to all

No affection no compassion

Hearts here have empty walls

Lives are buffered in seasons here

Fed gossip byte by byte

The reel from real they cannot tell

Friends depart as strangers rise

Here, false tales of love they spin

The oodles and the oomphs

The business of pleasure they conduct inside

Lies by day truth by night

Forsaking those who walked miles

For those who plastered crooked smiles

Behind veils of smoke lies vile intent

Fool fools of love and with lies befriend

Hide behind them year through year

Deceive them when the stakes are dear

Of batting eyelids they have rehearsals here

Tongues are dipped in syrups here

Hearts are pumped with vitriol here

The spirits and souls are dirty here

Alleys with mice are ridden here

Mice that all day remain hidden

But at night cunningly appear

To nibble on the rags of their souls

Only to dart for dingy holes

When approaching footsteps they hear.

The walls hide dirty secrets here

Of treachery and criminal lust

Yet they do not crumble

Yet do not fall to dust

Insolent they stand and hear

The bell and ringing phone

That brings new strangers for the night

Who smile and scream and yell and moan

Strangers welcomed by the bell

With the rising sun are sent to hell

Whose eyes had glimmered with what’s to come

Behind locked doors; the endless fun

Half merry half dejected turn away

From this loathsome house of the rising sun

LAND LOST

Where white was virgin white was pure

White is black; the black of fear

Where time shouts “all you here

Come close, come hear”

The zombies of history stand

Poker faces, frozen hands

Dumb before the dazzling white

Stunned by the red beacon light

They stand upon their cowardly shame

Time knows they are to blame.

On the nascent throbbing brain

Like a fresh drop on a window pane

Warped history some figures made

Ensured the sham would never fade

Made certain to annul every date

With time; history’s older mate

For dignity clothed in robes so chaste

Defiled, would flee in vulgar haste

From the nascent throbbing brain

Reckless in its stupor, but not insane

Not so young now, not the same

Would turn the pages, feel the shame

See through the twisting corridor of lies

Walls smudged with tears that echo with cries

Over foul dumps of vices reveling like flies

They will forever stand forever rejoice

TO THE DOGS

Ornate carriages, horse-drawn

Swords of the tongue drawn

Grotesque pictures of war drawn

Hatched at the hour of dawn

By crooked fingers upon paper drawn

Rosy innocence on canvas drawn

Hands from tainted coffers drawn

Plotted at the hour of dawn

Dawn from the morning drawn

Sunshades over eyes drawn

Curtains over lies drawn

The cold cell awaits the pawn

Blueprints of a farce drawn

Heaven on a façade drawn

Teary each visage drawn

Between conflicts and lies torn

History not black and white; in red drawn

The line from every toe too far drawn

Lives from life too fast drawn

Stained pocket change to help mourn

From Zurich, cheques drawn

Alms from roofless heads drawn

The last drop from the well drawn

My country to the dogs thrown