Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Desert Rain

The desert wind blows in an expanse that stretches far beyond forever,
Particles of sand traces adorning footprints on a sleeping nymph.
An oasis opens a hemorrhage through the barren lands,
And awakens the dormant anatomy of the beautiful beast.
The desert Venus emerges from beneath the dusty blanket,
She crawls on her hands and knees towards the beguiling desert spring.
The oasis limits to an interim quench of pungent thirst,
For tis but a mirage to last for the very moment it takes to last.
But within the moment the heavens open to give birth to rain,
Each droplet planting wet kisses on her parted lips.
She tries to balance herself on the moistened desert sand,
Two feet sinking half-way into the warmth of nature's intercourse.
From a drizzle to a torrid downpour, the rain beats against her hips,
Holds fast to her spine, sliding down her thighs, while lightning and thunder rage.
Fixated, hydrated, anesthetized by the waves of cold and hot floods,
She relishes the moment of bewitching circumstances.
Then in the last hour, the heavens run dry, the open wound heals,
The oasis crystallizes into the horizon, the richness in the earth evaporates,
The sun returns, and the moon says goodnight.
More dose of prose

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Woman & Child

An old woman, in the body of a child,
An aged grace, an unhappy face.
The ancient walls that keep breaking down,
The disenchanted world, that haunts the little girl.
Wrinkles on her brow, scattered round her lips,
Vanishing with every smile, that lasts for just a while.
If all the world's a stage, then love is make-believe,
A twisted tale, a lover - a pretender, an endless journey failed.
The child holds out, to be led the way,
Beseech her porcelain heart not to crack, the woman holds back.
Disloyal trust, blind atonement conceived by innocence,
A molten void of treacherous lies, said by bitter goodbyes.
To love or not to love, the question be a mockery,
To love - a myth, to not love - a heresy, no way out of it.
The old woman, says her silent prays to the One above,
As the child sits and cries, mulling over every tear from her eyes.
On attempted voyages, the woman and child hold hands to find their common souls,
But the soul keeps wandering, the heart keeps flailing, the body plays a corpse.
How will you know what it feels like when your sense of feeling is dead and gone,
Tell me, how do you love when you don't know how to accept love completely.
Lost in the mist, lost in the valley, lost in the eyes of the beholder,
Drowning in denial, falling into a well of self-deception and mental trials.
The woman wants to run, the child wants to stay,
The traffic between them causes fatal accidents along the way.
The wings of love, ripped off by the wind, and thrown into the storm,
To do or to die, to love or to cry, to be or not to be...
...the one faith, one redemption, one resurrection for me.
More dose of prose

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Disclaimer

Careful to light candles that may tip and cause a fire,
In rapid rage…can consume the Amazon rainforest,
And open the gateway to hell…where quench be null.

Careful to look too deeply into my eyes and steal my soul,
Know the legality that my heart can be stolen too,
But refuse the key that will let it out of prison hold.

Careful with your words and actions that proceed,
Words...denotations of possibilities and probabilities,
Actions...connotations of idiosyncrasies brought to life.

Careful to lay me down on a bed of roses,
When I’ve been laid down on a bed of ice,
And know the feeling of a bed of thorns.

Careful to play conductor to a symphony duet,
While strumming the guitar…fingers along my ribcage,
And beating the drums…meteor bodies in collision.

Careful to trip and fall as you walk down the plank,
Keep your balance, do not falter, strain your logic,
When you get to the edge, don't wade your feet in the water.

Careful to go too far out into sea as you may get lost,
In the rapturous waves of hushed, private gratification,
Keep this disclaimer in your pocket or you won’t find your way back…
More dose of prose