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

Friday, July 4, 2008

bridge of words



my life

is a fistful of smouldering sediments

floating on a rivulet of time



you cast vibrations

on the splattered glass pieces

that dilute into the resonance of the mind

too deep to be touched

by time



your words

are a drop of shimmering ecstasy

stagnant in my trembling grasp

that drips down the pendulum

across people and places

to be a frozen bubble

of eternity



my pen

is a bridge of metaphors

across the rivulet of the time

that coerces the present and future

on the eternal pillar

of your words



i am but a tired traveler

walking into the broken miles

of a sleepy horizon

along a bridge of words



yet

sometimes i pause

to smell the decaying sediments

in the rivulet of time

below the bridge of words



can i ever hold on

to your heart burnt tears

that now seep into undercurrents

of the past?



every moment lived

is a story of the past



i am a tired traveler

time-travelling

on a bridge of words

till it crumbles



and then ………



i am a fistful

of smouldering sediments
lost in rivulets of time ........