Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Losing sketch of days and nights


Days lose in days,
nights, in nights
travelling all around
for ages
silent and sound.

I can see them moving
Yet, more voiceless
than my feeling heartbeats.

All of a sudden, out of nowhere,
with my mind
I’m standing beside seashore.
Its vastness on one hand,
my being, like a speck of dust,
on the other.
The sky is there, as it were.

Occasional clouds and waves roar
liquid fragrance and the sound
beckons me,
peeking stars from above, blink;
it is this mind again
which links me with my college days,
just when my grandchildren recount theirs;
quick, slow, sudden, on, off
all at the same time.

Album of dead nights and days shine
in the starry sky,
jewels in the crown
live in the veins and in the spine
as guests, friends, healers.
a hug or a shake, with an are-you-there,
a cold bubble striving upwards falls
like a shooting star,
the touch or the tone pelts a rubber stone
its perfume I liked and stored in the  
cupboard, with my scrap book,
the hollow gleaming object drops,
bursts, disturbs, shivers
robs moments inside the liquid ball, ready to fly
the concern here, becomes the killer.

I can do nothing but eat
the sound of memories, stuffed with silence
as though I am relishing a burger
I would at one favorite joint
as a gallivanting teenager.
This is also painted there
I distinctly remember
but here
my eyes don’t see the folded skin
they smell the leftover times.
Being alive in the other being.
In the middle of this momentary encounter
lounge, where I sit becomes the boat
dwindling in the sea
risk of sinking is exciting
emptiness, also fulfilling.

I have no reason
to be one with the overcast blue
but I do,
I become my own shelter
witness nights and days,
raining beneath my umbrella
whose losing I sense
standing ashore.
In the quicksand of clouds,
I get drowned in the shore-less sky
but I also become it
slowly, more and more.
Since I didn’t have different blue pastels
there, nice and bright
I left the sky white
else my drawing teacher would get
confused I know and frown
could even look at the book upside down.

Azure openness above, beneath
flaunting waters
my tears merge in the company
no different colors
how’d I explain this to the teacher
I wonder,
even if I painted the waters white
would anyone sense the act
with colors in the palate so feather light
can I reveal or conceal fiction from fact;
but sadness disappears instantly
it has no place, as far as moist eyes could see
trembling, dancing, laughing, colorless waters.

Suddenly I see a coffin
full of breathing nights and days,
I refuse to recognize this time and space.
A huge tongue pops out from there
I would draw to scare
my bro, my sis and my granny dear
it licks and then slaps me
affectionately
reminding me of my karma, draws me in.
I am inside.
In a minute, it stands as a lifeboat
and kept afloat
my heartbeat bells
I wish I had leverage
to nothing I could hold
I start to sail, there’s no shore
layers of sameness
folding and losing, manifold.

I am in the middle,
little yellow sands fade away
lighthouses show up
nights pouring in days
days, in nights
running into pages
losing, wandering around
I float, I float, I float
silent and sound.

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