Nonetheless Nothingness...

Vastness of the sky

ring my chimes
a tree's golden tresses

flows a river of stories

death nonetheless

the withering away to nothingness...

DE-seeded Disease!

sapwood bleeds my pain

is it-

 to become a rain of colours ?

in a new gravetogether again
re-buried mother...
denuded, openThis stark, sere land—

Delirious Sweat...

my mother’s eyes might watch or
my father’s fingers might touch
scratch their dogs’ bellies,
the whole place is a thirst-

desert’s hot sky
salt crystals with nothing more to bite
the who/what/where/when/why
the riots of moths

never to be suckled
des(perate) figures hurling each other up;
to see but not be seen
sinks in a soil of doubt.

(the sky seem busy)
sands are tugging
that ants had amassed
desert, more than anywhere!

My Cumulus Depth...

coconut beaches
creeping against the lips

phosphorescent and pulsing
relationship of stone

systematic and enduring
all the day they roared with bees...

dry and white by midsummer
feelings were ash-gray

spangled with sunset at the top
wrinkled aspen leaves

of someone kissed in sleep;
in the darkness cold muzzles

between the burnt peaks
the half-moon rides

smoky and indistinct
a small dense cumulus cloud

peaks deep in itself; without a quiver
just that sea and me-

..............................

indefinable  divided the outline of your body
 my hook snagged in a struggle of desire

 body moves on
from your navel to where the darkness begins

imperfect and constant inside me
to throw in your river

my hair hangs surly and limp;
. i throw an arm over you

Our naked shivering bodies
in the dark  endless-

...................

there’s a leaf falling -
a pack of dogs loose in my dream
the fuzz of dried grass
catches fire
as it lays eggs inside me..

P.S-
please suggest me a title-

do you know it is!

The street-lamp’s vigil
 it’s love- i squeeze your waist

 like a language
i undress and enter
painted there

clumps and fluffs

like bursting pillows
sweat and desire..

 if it’s love-!
the un-loved year
with many tributaries
between my thighs
i wear the butterflies
we collected together
amid the infinite
their curtains beating

it’s love-
the arc tightens and closes
a deep and torrential river
the map hangs before me
his body—your body
to overcome; to conquer..

Painting by AmandaNutzman

.

mysterious bonds

In tasting
power of survival
characters were promises
didactic phrases
to take you in and out of-


I myself am not myself
under the fleet from last night
bird hits the glass and the bird
shatters. It repeats. ..
three crows ride.


I want to laugh from the middle of my belly
the social sanskrit of my life
mother murdering me
to explore as poems
again and again...


magpies slice
    sky sunset
my own garden wall, bend to place
seeds in the black earth; The babble of our children
fills my ears


so hard my breasts bounce
in the rainforest, through the cedars, beneath the eagles and herons
one to one a seven-day kiss-


black sky in the middle of the afternoon
You told me a story-
carpeted with shrubs, just beneath (her) feet-

Woman!

My flesh that hungers
cut them -
and stand them in your blue vase..

breasts warm
your lips quick
watching the sun flee

in my skin's knowing;
spiced armpits
an endless harvest...

Nausea...

a broom
dips and highs-
as lavender flowers
on crumpled stole bloomed;

kissed- the first time;
Amethyst was the colour.
pale greenness
moon beams abundant...

parched dry the tongue
at the roof of  mouth;
eyes; that drooped like wilted lotus
his lips down the throat

into the dark eyes
saliva from his mouth froze
almonds like sore nipples
burning womb

a dark secret-silent lover lingering
every night...

DIPS and HIGHS!

My flesh sweet oil-

against the sun
i close the shutters
abode, home, nest, lair

Tomorrow-
The phone is dead
an open line...

Hiccups-

scented desire
sweat in its vapors
against his lips his teeth his tongue
smell of his deodorant real.;
the pale pink insides
stings; soothes-
between the desert sand
the color
of your Denied child!

among green fields
like pinpricks
DNA of loss!

a kiss- Any-more!

Dark lush hair
caressing your ankles...

tethered dreams
hatred seethe
virgin nausea
truth-
of your thighs
the silent demand
flower garlands of jasmine-


Painting by Rabindranath Tagore.

Beyond..

(chasing her yellow laughter
a boy would catch butterflies)


the drying buds
of roses silent curled,

wafting aroma of cinnamon sticks
somewhere ...
eying the jars of spices
in the quiet of an afternoon



a navy sky grows weary of the blue...

Moon Flower..

tinkling of my bangles

the salty smell of your ocean

footfalls echo somewhere deep down...

keeping secrets
wrapped in a threadbare shawl;
parched with thirst
She opens her heart
a princess with never a crown
dances wild; dances free
bridges of Madison county-


a tire hiss in the tangled night
fireflies lurk,caught beneath an imposing moon..

P.S

i located this painting in the blog..http://janettmarie.blogspot.com/2010/01/moon-flower.html

Moon flowers are generally white but he painted it other wise as he believes painting it from heart.....:)

Backless...

Filled with summer's heat
heavy scent of stifled air
the urge-
our pupils spoke
strong;
dark cappuccino sipped
i bathe in-
the water melon in our lips
dampened earth; my dark raven hair
mangroves
between your words
flows of rhyme
tainted dreams...

Above the moon...

The sun played on the floor
as sweats trickle from your brow;
bed- soft and warm
in spectrum of colors
scarecrow watched in silent thought
the koel on the kadamba tree
waiting for me, you:
Squint your eyes at the cistern-

Just when-

Wrapped myself
up like a caterpillar
dusk turned purple-

a new piece of world stand
darting to the corners

my body rot~

to write of the kisses stolen
the thick warmth
 running-
tongue across
tasting his sweat
its stubbornness
infuriating;
fragrance of the musk
under my breasts
scent opened her portals
played his lilting tune
as his teeth bit hard
on anxious flesh;
he ingests
riot of purple
his lips
rip my skin
logic flirts
slowly down
so precise
that inside
he loves
in savage feast
between...

beneath where
timbered dreams
weeds that grew a wondrous  green~

P.S

for my city Calcutta...

The Only Witness...

 

In his jockey shorts-

she has the quiet ribs
of a salamander;
Bee sting kiss
the unaccustomed heat
clumsily stroking her
in the darkness
her stomach to her thighs;
crossing the old pony post road
with sheets and blanket
against her protests
burning on bonfires
the warble of nausea
comes;bang up!
her shivering body
begins to grind
focused
the ripples of hatred;
Detail;by detail
Fighting a losing battle
like streets you read about every day-
 

away from her body
something ticking,
tick-tock-tick-tock
 

An omission
the only witness to a rape!