Category Archives: Uncategorized
Anne Grey Sexton, your beautiful confessionalism looks stoic, just like my brave self-narrative!: A poem
Do poets share sometimes a twinning as also a contrariness in their ambiguous ambivalence(?)? Like a hearse slowly pulling away in its aloneness (and freedom?); does a corpse feel alone in death or finally freed? Like the blackness of the vehicle that takes it into its sombre grave to be buried into an earth (or into an unimagined dimension more palpably expansive and intense?). What do we think is death? Is it a moment of sobriety, that reflects on theContinue reading “Anne Grey Sexton, your beautiful confessionalism looks stoic, just like my brave self-narrative!: A poem “
A brief missive to the worst Prime Minister in the history of Australia (AA)!: A poem
I claw the fields of the night, fast in flight, those pictograms shafting through the clouds and the wonder of ideas and words beading on a long, illustrious chain. Sometimes, in the sunlight of day, the verdict of my fusilade are only flowers that leave their fragrance on the page. I never revealed the spectrum of my soul, it was made more profound with the stigmata of the ages. ThereContinue reading “A brief missive to the worst Prime Minister in the history of Australia (AA)!: A poem “
My Karma is never wandering into the forgiveness of those criminals!: A poem
Even my broken dreams, over the ages, turned from carboniferous coal, slowly, into priceless diamonds! Even my disillusions became breathing reflections in affirmation of the veracity of the Universe! Even my repeated deaths became livewire, energising the cosmic soul! I am here, there and everywhere! Much quicker than the light, that, itself, takes time to travel I am not daunted by the lightyears, you all try to alarm my sensesContinue reading “My Karma is never wandering into the forgiveness of those criminals!: A poem “
The shameless Albo (please go!), playing fraudulent tricks on me, Hahahaha!
Far from the beginning; in a tortuous continuum but never bidding bye!: A poem
I remember my own darkness, the iota of it, comprising everything that mattered And its blackness in its luminescence, phosphorescence! You can see the womb of my substance as I created my own mother, father, and my true love from an aphorismic breath. That said, let there be love. And when I sensed my luminescent darkness, I said let there be light! And myContinue reading “Far from the beginning; in a tortuous continuum but never bidding bye!: A poem “
Let me have my say, even if that overwhelming evil should undermine me!: A poem
I feel canine but not sharkey! In the vitric vison of my mind, I know the juxtapositions of uranometry The sky has a fragrance that is beyond comprehensions For, no one has a nose for truths! I am just finding my candour’s loquaciousness And I don’t care if it is honesty or dishonesty, to you all! I just know you are all plainly berserk from not knowing myContinue reading “Let me have my say, even if that overwhelming evil should undermine me!: A poem “
O Ouranos, if only they could remember you!: A poem
(The God that is ours and Nos, we) I have to tell you a very old story – of Ouranos, the sky God, the father of the Titans. Call him Dyayus, Ptah, or Pitah Maha! He was the epitome of progenitive profusiveness. The fertility God! The Omphalos. So envious was the fish of the deep sea of him, that the evil fish not only Continue reading “O Ouranos, if only they could remember you!: A poem “
So many retakes, and I am only recounting!: A poem
Do you think I like the rarefied air of the mountains? The sun-burning of the expansive deserts? Do you think that I should not live to enter the plains? Moses died before he reached the Promised Land! Must I entertain the same fate? Should I swear I am an elusive Mountain? Not even your haloed Mount Shasta holds a candle to me! And if inContinue reading “So many retakes, and I am only recounting!: A poem “
Moon, I have no mirror of myself in you!: A poem
There is a stark stillness in the air, like as if it was portraying a death! But whose death? We have learnt to believe that Friday is a day of mourning. When do Muslims celebrate their Sabbath? Would Freyja feel ostentated by this? I can see the disillustrious crone of a Moon hold her bloody dagger with her hands behind her back! ButContinue reading “Moon, I have no mirror of myself in you!: A poem “
