Inside the puddingland


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MySpace Graphics Your kiss spins like a dice in the night air and finds a shelter in the naked geometry of my face. - For R

Monday, October 13, 2008

STRANGE PLACE






A decade has passed
since the second cold war began


the spider still weaves malignancy
in a vial of frozen time


and this is a strange place
where strange things happen


The symphony of stagnant winds
bear a morbid fragrance daily


you feel the lullaby flow in your veins
and call yourself ‘learned’


Vampire in your breath
you steal the curse of life
from a wriggling foetus


and you let a vamp swear
your burden of virginity


The dusk is en-lightened
with the odour of morphine vapours


and the dagger is a museum
of cold crusades or fractured altars


The shadow of the paranoid
haunts your blood
like an endless epidemic


and you sell your knowledge
with yourself for soft drachmas


tell me,
do you still call yourself ‘learned’?


Slay the guitar
Kill the poet
Burn the peace
with your cyber avalanche


This is a strange place
where sick women compose pop songs


and you teach a toddler
to play with toy bullets


The river swells with guilty eddies
to sink the cries of silence


This is a strange time
and I am in a strange place
where strange things happen


I want to un-learn the ethics
I was taught by honest men


Yet you may find your coffin someday
in a lifeless universe


and wonder when you passed away!

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6 comments:

Debs said...

I found traces of maturity in here. Grow on your poems.

Inam said...

foray into the surreal?

goku said...

Not the best but certainly better than the rest. Great job, keep up the talent.

Pongy Papaya said...

like the imagery, disturbing & intense.

Rye.. said...

:)

bibhash jha said...

Slay the guitar
Kill the poet
Burn the peace
with your cyber avalanche

well , thats the part i liked most . carry on.. i see a great writer in making in u :)

http://bibhashkjha.blogspot.com/