Morsels of Dreams?

Fragmented sentences brutally, beautifully, boldly true

Meanings don’t always require tape, adhesive, glue

Hail Woolf, Joyce, prophets few

Freud. Slips of tongue. Dreams. Shoofragmented-dreams

Shoo them away,

You, shoo them away.

Yet mirrors passé, Dreams life’s actual hue

Carefully crafted. Bending phrases. Poetry.

Sue. Sue all poets. Imprison these enchanters.

Sonnets flowing through iron bars.

Cold cemented floors demand inquiring existence

Blooded charcoal answers on stenchy, filthy walls

Hazy manifestations or mildly true?

 

 

Tinging a Tear

Have you ever tried to mix the ink of your pen

tear

into the tear fallen fresh

on your book?

Tinging a tear,

how surreal it sounds,

but try it comrade,

and you will love to see what happens.

How you can modify a bio-chemical reaction

of someone’s action outside your body

How the transparent salty product of your eyes

turns into teal, fuchsia or pitch black

How I wish I could colorize

my thoughts|actions|feelings in the same way

How if I could find a pen,

Whose ink could possess the power to affect me and

transform the work of a mortal.

Ben Commonoe

Ben Commonoe

Within the crowd he walked,164175205_9951e05eb6_z

At the adverse scenes he gawked.

Ben was his name, not that it mattered,

He had quite a face too, and people saw it too

And judged him therefore.

He had the opinion congruent

To the one he admired,

After discussions and contradictions

Around tables and bars,

He finally had notions formed,

Through someone else’s eyes afcourse,

Fragile they were, and are,

Ready to be shattered by any new wave of fresh air,

Which he would breathe in

And soak into before going to sleep,

Before cursing the present government,

Before talking about old times

While thinking about tomorrow.

Rain, Poetry, Coffee and Interstellar Music

Rain, Poetry, Coffee and Interstellar Music

The coffee’s aroma juxtaposed with the petrichor,Featured image
They say it’s a chemical reaction,
the petrichor, sand turning to mud with rainwater
I believe it’s the union of earth and sky,
Awakening emotions, bringing a sigh.

The interstellar soundtrack adding the unbeatable charm,
Something supernatural, something divine,
A sip of that lactose drink and a word of ink,
Everything seemed just fine.

All my sobs turned to glee,
All my fears I could no longer see.
When the curtains flew away from the panes,
The muscular wind broke all reins,
I could trap myself into that moment forever,
To drench myself in a rain dance of eternity,
Favour my lips with my own hemlock,
And listen to the melody of the galaxy.

Noon Rush

Noon Rush
A weekday it was I’m sure,
Crossing the road, right in the middle I stood,
Couldn’t traverse the streets, the road was full.
After a score of minutes from noon the time stopped,
I couldn’t move an inch from that white painted equator.
Wondering what all these people were upto.
Cycles, rickshaws, bikes and cars, what work did they peform that time.
Toddlers coming back from preschool in buses,
A man taking his sick wife to the doctor,
Ladies car pooling for a kitty coffee.
A young fellow following a maid,
Some tax officers in a jeep planning a raid.
Soon, noon rush didn’t quite appeal to me.
But I found a kid who held my hand,
Planted a kiss on my confused cheek,
Said tomorrow at the same time he would meet.
Taught me life could surprise anytime.
Little packets of hope and glimmer shining through the scorching heat.