Spaces And Faces

Lost in the star shine,
My eyes on the horizon-
My mind a thousand miles away-
I feel the subtle flow of space,
Embrace me in its core essence.
Soulful moments of solitude-
Precious moments of loving silence,
I ruminate on the abstract - distractedly.
Red eyes - half closed,
I deep-dive into the granular depths,
Of the many concentric circles of lies,
That beseech me.
Holding me ransom -
A captive to their bonds.
A strange ennui sets in,
Ringed by revulsion waves.
The Wisdom's prediction,
At the predicament -
Cackle Cackle,
The old soothsayer laughs,
Pointing at her crystal- now foggy.
I imagine the waves lapping at my feet,
As another image brings peace.
A much loved face in sharp contrast-
Near - yet so far.
And shall always be so,
Aloof -  in inadmissible silence.
The trusted upturned face looks up,
Its soft features blurred.
The child's trust- indelible.
The mother's love,
Inexpressible.
Yet, ironically,
The weight of the chains,
Burden me,
The escape routes shine brighter,
As I creep back stealthily,
To the haven that space alone creates for me-
A shelter from the noise.
My world away from the symbols.

27 gb of muzak

Its funny how through,
An odd contrast of contradictions,
A curious middle path persists.
It strengthens and gathers a shape -
The amorphous subtly  resembles a starfish.
So what binds the trajectory?
Words? Notes? Keys?
Or a certain milieu of the Undefined?
Let the sleeping dogs lie.
The bark may as well spoil the hark.
The easy camaraderie the days slip,
Themselves into-
Is a sudden but expected stalwart
Of an unquestionable support.
The simplicity stands out steadfast.
The steady seeks the confused-
The 'wor(l)dy-wise' meets the 'no-vice'.
The aura of peace - accentuated.
Words pelt out to the greedy ears,
As the mind races to gauge the understated.
Lichen and Moss,
The grass 'green' ,
In the yellow sun hues.
Supernatural ?
Nay.
Just a "27 gb of muzak" bandwidth.

Stolen Moments

,

She hurried along,
Her sharp heels a clatter
Against the hard pavement.
The white sheet of rain,
Clouded her vision ahead.
But she knew he'll be there.
Like the old days.
As she took another step,
She clasped the hand she knew so well.
The crafted face looked at her-unsmiling.
The grey hair flatenned by the incessant pour.
The haze of the streetlight a mellow glow.
Soft yellow set the tinge,
As the lips met.
Hands held, they braved the rain-
To their shelter away from the prying world.
No hurry, no rush-
They sought peace in their well known enclosure.
Grey and green eyes- a familiar entrapment.
The love they made was not without fire.
It was one of knowledge of the past.
They spoke through their volumes of silence,
Words seemed paltry anyway.
Peace in a sinful comfort-
Their battered minds,
Powerless - a combat of conflicts.
Rueful at the passage of time,
That never saw them together.
Victims of the dreams of others,
They had ended up pawning lives.
Pawns themselves.
Their lives now,
Drained of emotions,
A mechanical existence without reason.
The stolen moments shared were,
Akin to prayers for the bliss of innocence.
She looked out-
Towards the night and beyond.
Secure in his arms,
Yet a mother now-
No more the carefree girl he had loved.
She fretted silently,
About her child.
And her husband as he drove back home.
She moved - he knew.
It was time to go.
To pick up the pieces of a hollow marriage.
He watched her as she stood-
Still regal despite the age.
Always the one woman he had dared to see through.
And submit to ceaselessly.
She looked at him-
Her soft eyes moist.
They would meet again-
Like this.
Shaded and jaded.
But no part of them incomplete.
Except their story.

Photograph

A part of me,
Stares in awe-
At the photographs,
Remembering the tangled.
Disbelief at suspension ;
Mesmerized by the meanders.
A wry smile suffuses,
Humor mustn't be lost.
Specially if its self-inflicted.
So should I question myself now?
The voluntary blindness that
I had sought refuge at?
Must I berate myself to my self-degradation,
Degenerate into a composite waste ?
I reach across,
To tear away the cobwebs-
That cloud my vision now.
In my ears ,
The banshee sings out  loud-
The words heard.
The words drilled in thus.
With the photographs,
Have died a lot of dreams.
A lot of me too.
The answers to questions,
Only bring despair.
As truth begets truth,
It negates efforts to search
For meanings not truly there.
The erstwhile peace,
Now steals over me like a disease.
Truly, we had no love-
But a beautiful deceit.
It seems, we were never united-
To be divided now.
What we had had-
Was just a dream.
 I've found visions of many things that never have been
Adrift in memories and your specter behind me.
And now I feel free of the misleading nectar,
Of your lies - and the folly in my sweet surrender.
Affirmation is supreme,
In my way to glory-
Sans an effigy of you-
That is fast receding.

Orange Blooms

As I sit,
Lost in my far away dreamland,
My gaze set on the grey horizon beyond-
With the cool wind as my Pacific -
My eyes perchance,
Chance upon tiny orange blooms-
Standing up tall,
Braving the drift.
I look at them-enchanted.
Unbeknownst of my knowledge,
They had existed for so long,
I look around my terrace,
Amazed - at the intricate aesthetics-
Of the myriad colors splashing across.
The orange fruits stare me down,
They seems to be saying something to me.
Reprimand mayhaps of my hapless ways.
The orange color a soothing blaze,
Bold yet subtle,
Its beauty an Aphrodite in essence.
As the wind gently rustles them,
And the rain droplets shower their love,
The orange blooms dance happily-
Set to the tune of their earthly simplicity.
Unique in unity too,
Joyful in their skin-
A league ahead  of  the rest,
They seek no pretense.
And mesmerized as I looked on,
Somewhere, I sensed a connect -
Of being - of totality -
Of a solitary peace - and its resonance.
My aura an orange hue-
As I underplay the basics.
Through the Looking Glass thus,
I sought my own mirage