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Monday, June 4, 2018

A Poem, A Day : Until June 15th (Day 1) ⁓ 'Motion'

I have even begun believing - if you would believe me now that I am afflicted with passion in some threaded web of catharsis I cannot decode. It is nothing that I would even want to come out of, but it hurts. It hurts to write, it hurts even more not to write. These poems, written until 15th (which is when I was born) is something I am being compelled to write because I almost turn into a dangerous creature otherwise. Now, these poems are something I wouldn't love people to copy but if they're conveyed, understood and appreciated, a million rebirths born would be satiated in a lifetime. With love. In absolutely intolerable pain. 

'Music' by Gustav Klimt, 1895 

At dusk - courteously ; 
Smothering the sense of eternal dystopia
Crawling up on your spine
Like treasured love
Stored in caskets and star maps
Have found hope in the cityscapes

You step out of the horizon
In shades of oblivion, in paranoia
The rebel in your eyes
The sunset in your submission 
The glory of galactical whirlwinds wrapping your bosom
Like a million albatrosses surrounding your spirit 

The mites who sleep in the woods
And add warmth to the slowly cooked flesh 
Of our bodies
Of your essence, of the decomposed aisles
Of nothing, nothing at all

Your footsteps enlightened the rugged mountainside. 

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