Broken Angel

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Surrounded by the hidden obscenity of the sky,

She coiled there naked and frayed,

Fire above the sky was as in her heart,

Ancestor’s winds carried a promise of rain,

But no amount of rain would cool her burning skin

 

Exposed under the judging eyes,

She had lost all her sensibility, earthiness and humanness,

Her dignity had been ensnared and reduced into fine dust,

She felt it disappearing into the red, hot fierce winds,

She huddled her defenseless sickly body against a million-knot gusts

 

She couldn’t,

She was small and weak,

She was a trapped powerless fly,

She took in all rain’s violence out of the tempest,

Regretting the loss of birth and of freedom

 

Violent battering rain equaled the pounding of her chest,

She hated her skin, weight and the texture of her hair,

She hated the trees and all the flowers,

She hated the sun, the moon and the stars,

 

She hated some more,

Hated the rain,

Hated her life,

…and gods,

She could only hate…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Whirling Gusts

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As I hugged the unusual, empty, snaking road,

I was well aware of the invincible presence,

A whoring evil presence… staring…hating,

Line of unsettled faces souring with loath

 

Sometimes I felt naked under their invincible gawk,

Overwhelmed with the stench of everlasting exhaustion,

But the feeling also filled my soul with a sickly sweet anticipation,

Of fate, luck or even unluck

 

The growing wind carried a myriad of strange dialects,

They were hissing sounds with undercurrents of fury,

What’s wrong with leading my life? Owning my life?

Doing what I want, where I want and how I want it!

 

I struggled to keep all obscenity well hidden in my heart,

Feeling the joy and the hurt of it too,

It attracted a strange and a curiously exciting feeling,

It felt unearthly, delectable, sweet and satisfying

 

I got distracted by a lone spidery purple flower,

It was neither pleasant nor unpleasant,

The flower carried neither any perfume nor odor,

Fire from the sky sent red hot winds along its path

 

They hissed violence that equaled the thumping of my chest,

They came from the sky of death to life,

They multiplied like maggots in a corpse,

Were they winds of change or of a new assurance?

 

Everything and everyone was battered down,

Consumed by self-fed agony,

Except for the lonely purple flower,

That huddled defensefully deep in the loose soil…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Someone’s Watching

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Helpless and hopeless I lose to my senses

I know I have the weakest flesh,

And I am unlucky enough to witness,

This is my chaos of existence

 

I keep blowing away every single ray of light,

Innocently I surrender my soul to the shadowy,

And wear it so comfortably like an old hat,

Even the town’s drunk seems contented with it

 

The land feels dry and hot in my feet,

As I desperately search for the scattered grass,

At least to assure myself that I will see that ray again,

Or even hope to get help from that who’s watching

 

My life is as fragile like a petal amidst dry lands,

I feel it receding like a boat on a shore,

It is getting away as in violence,

I only need that trifling mound of love

 

The world vibrates with piercing punishment,

Today is harder than the day before,

It is a strange sad mortality,

But the desire to live burns inside me,

It bursts like an over-flared balloon

 

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The Heartache

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He could feel it and smell it too,
The burning heartache that churned inside,
He longed for a small mound of love, just little,
It was a soft cry, though it was sad and hopeless

This was an artificially created crisis, but by who?
It had made him small and inside he was a stone,
For his heart carried a quiet kind of rebel for all things,
He had come accustomed to all evil spewed on him

Although he was surrounded by a sea of honest petals,
That danced graciously in the blameless soft breeze,
Violence had numbed his senses into disbelief,
Could neither feel the highest joy nor the deepest sadness.

He was tethered like a hopeless Christmas animal,
For the onslaught of anything that would kill his peace,
For the world was full of tension and discriminate hate,
He had confirmed that horror on earth is real and canny

He wished he could shut his eyes and command it to stop,
He wished to feel wild and free just once more in life,
He wished to feel unreachable and invincible all at once,
He wished he could go into that light but deep dreamlike bliss…
This moment that extended everything that he wasn’t sure of

 

 

 

Illicit Rendezvous

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I longed for my illicit rendezvous
To wave goodbye to all the noises,
The shrieking words without a heart,
Those that created hell of heaven,

Litany of lies was spread everywhere,
It was the accepted religion,
That everyone risked offending,
Yet it alluded the most faithful

I craved and raved to push myself away,
To seek the perfection of my own reality,
For that is my knowledge of true self,
And because of freedom…I had let me be

I needed my present, my life to take priority over history,
And visit my illicit rendezvous with the naked tree,
Beneath the blackened grey sky,
And not gloss over pride customs,
Nor ethical standards

For how hurtful can it be?
Accepting a life chained by blinding faith,
A life lived beneath hideous masks,
Feeling hurt moment after moment,
Its distorted visage is horrifying!

 

 

Trapped Voice

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He thought that in time, his mind will protect his sanity,
From mounting storms and chaos raging through his flimsy heart,
This rose, whenever he was close enough to experience her scent
In a second he was plunged into a state of enchantment

He was floating in the nothingness of the moment,
It bathed away all his old scars and made him new,
He was waving goodbye to suck desires,
He was a child of oblivion

It was a time to listen to the rhythms of his blinded heart,
He was spell-bounded in the amber of that delicious moment,
Never hesitating to wash all mannerism and pretenses,
Time was never guided by any system

The beauty in her scent carried silent power,
It was warm and had cherry blossom,
His black knowledge hinted that his time was here and now,
And it made blood to throb fiercely through his veins,

He was tired of waiting and wilting through cold days,
He was going to finally tell her about his black desires,
Even with a benign smile he felt disillusioned and lost,
He was unable to control his sensibility and emotions,

He wanted to tell her how much he needed her,
How much his days passed without any purpose,
How much he dreamt, wished and hoped for them both,
But the dryness of his throat spurted empty words,

He couldn’t do it!
The truth was too heavy!
He had failed yet again…
To save his trapped voice

 

The Agile Queen

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The crick crack echoed the breaking of dawn,
Her body reeled from drunken sweet slumber,
She emerged from the hollows of dead branches,
Guided by instincts, she searched for the soft luminous horizon

The sky was dotted by many scattered smoky clouds,
The crisp falling of air carried beauty that felt invincible,
It made her feel immobile and at the same time suspended her,
It was a distilled sweetness that mornings like these carried

The soft sounds of the whistles and bustles of the wind circled her,
They pushed her forward towards the flower petals despite herself,
The delicate soft petals were slowly opening for her awkward self,
She contained her firing desire to crawl and sit inside such openings

She was focused on fulfilling that, which justified her existence,
All her life she was guided and worked from her untamed instincts,
A huge burden of guilt descended on her whenever she thought of fleeing,
Her own existence and relevance was realized by what she did everyday

She was wild, free and was filled by unpredictable love for her duty,
That love was like the sun, it could not be contained in any way,
Though her world was crafty, dangerous and full of unseen horror,
That love was a glorious blanket that made her feel unreachable,
That understanding rose and blossomed the agile body of this tiny queen