audience of one

The air is alive with the scent of sweaty bodies
Mixed with heady anticipation; I see it
clearly in my mind;
the image floats in front of the words –
sensory words conceived for the stage
birthed to capture hearts.

The roar of the enraptured crowd wafts to me in muted tones
Right here – backstage,
Struggling with the melody
Losing hope with each chime
Of passing time

Amidst the din and blinding spotlight
I see your face –
Centre stage, front row –
Eyes closed,
Lips moving in sync

On your lips
I find the words.
This poem, the rhythm
This melody, the cadence
Is really for an audience
Of one

troubled waters

troubled waters bring mud
to the surface
shuts out the sun’s rays
my soul shivers.

my soul hovers over the pool
at Bethesda, and watches the murky
waters deliver my dreams to another.

peace ripples the cogitations of my soul
speaks stillness to the entropy.

dreams do not stay tranquil
alive, they kick
trouble the waters.

my soul is murky
sedimented dreams rise to the
surface, shuts out the sun.
I shiver.

state of fear

The wind whispers harshly to me:
Doomsday is coming.
Noah walks barefooted in Reykjavik
Prophesies:
Glaciers trembles at the wrath of Sol
Running amok in holes
In stratosphere

History is a never ending cycle
Crichton scoffs:
Fear is Morphia
Fear births more fear
Mass hysteria:
fickle minds high on fumes
of chlorofluorocarbon

Silver is dross
Judas is cross
The price of a soul
Has appreciated at the
Stock market
Sells for gold coins –
Thirty pieces

Thirty degrees in Oslo
The wrath of Poseidon
Waxes hot
Ice floats on fire
Fire ends the world.

 

your voice is a fading echo

I feel your hand slipping

I feel you drifting

I feel you sneaking

Away, one day

At a time. Time

 

And again, you swear

You are going nowhere

Say you are right here…

 

These days, your voice is a fading echo

Carried from afar by distant chilly winds

That reminds my heart to yearn for warmth…

 

I found you in the market, wandering between stalls

Displaying wares I had no taste for

You grabbed me by my heart

Didn’t let go

 

Words water the soil of the heart

Prepares it for seeds of love

You watered my heart but sowed no seed

My heart is caked and cracked

 

Break me with the plough

Run over me with the harrow

Ready my soil for planting

I have lain here fallow

For far too long.

Seven – a poem

I. Beginnings

The curtains open
To reveal tiny seeds.
Greatness is packed into
Molecules in little spaces
Little beginnings –
Little things
Little actions –
Create unending echoes
Chain reactions…

II. Severance

Severe the cord
Inflate collapsed lungs
Let in life.
This pain is good
This cry is victory.

III. The fence

The goat. The goat
It climbs the fence
Heads for the barn.

IV. Crying rivers

Cry me a river
Break these fever
Quench the anguish
The roaring inferno
Consuming my flesh

V. The garden

Put out the weed
In my garden
Let me touch the sun

VI. Penultimate

Six nights of darkness ends
The night is alive with stars
Specks of silver scattered all over
The black sequin dress of the sky
The moon is the queen of the dance.

VII. Perfection

Let me tell you of the number seven
It is the number of heaven.
Take a voyage across seven rivers
Pass the seven wonders
Unlock the seven doors of heaven
Behind them, you will find
Perfection.

*****

Author’s note: Dedicated to a special girl, who turns seven today.