Hello world, I am god.
On Earth, I had the dream to create life.
I am the one who painted green.
First, I weaved grass – they served a purpose.
They held onto the skin of my Earth.
Then chiselled trees with a different purpose.
I gave them fruit, knowing that someday
The fruits would serve some greater cause.
Continue reading “The Purpose of Lucifer”
Everything big and bright eventually dims out when at distance.
Once upon a time, I felt that its just a matter of perception between what you adore and what you despise. Then I wrote The Orion Halo. Miraculously, its just getting more true.
Deserted myself; blew up into the smoke,
Drowned in liquor; walked out of all ties,
Tied to posts and hung from the cliff;
Gasped for drown; vomited dragon.
Made more alone; walked out of body,
Flew off the ground; hit the clouds,
Blasted through the mountains,
Burnt into ashes; destroyed in oblivion.
Continue reading “Crossover To The Adversary”
From the abyss of the uncultivated she arose
To embezel the throne of myst and flair,
Holding on to the coins of merry
Unto the pity minds of the golden Æschere.
Continue reading “Humence Sans Foetus”
One’s change cannot be any different than the difference that one can make.
The dreams of fantasizing resides the truant adore,
Of a temptation miles long.
Slithering on a jump-board cliffed from one shore.
Beliefs and ‘stitions cuddled under the stampede
Of the imaginations’ kaleidoscope,
Transient shadows carving shapes
Through ecliptic proportions that can never reborn.
Continue reading “A Somnambulist’s Reality”
One summer evening the river strolled silently.
(Led by me,) we too trudged along:
Me and I,
Walking together towards a common goal
To reach each other across twenty-one furlong.
Between us, through the solitude and blank desertion,
Flowed an innocent and oblivious river.
With purpose of its own; transforming wishes
Into errant endeavour of measured motion.
I faced the river and peered through my veneered eyes.
There, on the distant other shore stood me naked and unwise.
I called out loud, but could not hear myself.
Waved, but definitely could not see myself.
Something separated us:
The ignorant and deficient river.
Years have passed together,
We are aliens groping the darkness.
Mark of a hypocrite:
Not to learn oneself in its medicine of sickness.
A blissful anomaly, felt by each other:
Standing apart the stream, we were attached to the swans.
Awoke together, together asleep we fell.
Watched every sunrise and admired every sunset.
Between us, with its vigour and weakness,
The tides washed still.
We had no willful choice to stare
But at that towering and monstrous hill.
The river of taboo, but follows usual course,
Merely that we two are born on unknowing opposite shores.
The distance here, is meaningless than meager.
There is no renegade ship or skimpy boat to carry us home.
As a last resort to reach me,
Through the covert of the willow tree.
I take up my quiver,
Make my choice:
To walk across this hollow and unbeckoning river.
It was a mid-day morn
A man on terrace
With few drapes worn,
Just out of bath
To repeat those prayers
With folded arms he was standing,
Facing the Sun
He was praying.
What could be seen
Was him and the star
An invisible beam joining.
Continue reading “The Orion Halo”