Friday, January 1, 2010

January 2nd

Constrains, remorse tarnish me
Selective amnesia, emotional paralysis
Books pile up read, re-read, underlined, highlighted, and worn;
given away with a subtle arrogance. You fools!
Remnants of delectable nectar stain the stomach lining-
half-chewed chicken churn in the digestive juices.

You sigh and whisper an expletive,
that reverberates, like an eternal echo-
through my trembling self, a shell.
It wasn’t a mockery you plead, I smile.
I turn my fleshless skull skywards,
awaiting a single drop of solace.

A brand new diary, the old diaries some pulped,
some lost, some stolen, hidden in hated nooks,
the rest, like tombstones, arranged
in straight line on the cemented shelf.
Cynical lipstick, frosted cherries always the same colour;
Year after year, brownish orange like anodyne blood-
dried too soon, coating a bloated lip.

Cobwebs creep across the drying decked up tree-
Sudden longing for parents, for things that were.
Voice break, swing between fantasy and reality,
grows larger until it swallows the frame-
takes a form, becomes a lost paradise.

Kisses, “surprise!” yelled into deaf ears, hugs.
wrapped goodies, another book, another bangle
an envelope smelling of roses, a crisp currency.
Advanced, belated, you name it, its there.

Grasshopper treads softly over the yellow leaves, dew-laden,
green, curved needles, construction of cells and tissue;
pierced patterns invisible,
dew falls silently, like transparent pot-bellies.

Ear strain to catch a sound, a plop-plop. Nothing.
Damn. the tongue has lashed through clenched teeth.
Reflex action, the God has lost control over his creation,
they obey their own laws; mind scolds the unruly pink invertebrate,
it screams again, mocking, the faceless head thrashing,
eye sniggers, the grey matter grumbles.

A useful box of handkerchiefs, immaculate white, blue bordered,
no kitten this year too, atleast a tiny gold fish?
Curry, conversations, a candle blown-
piece of icing and cake stuffed into a wrinkled mouth,
The weary tongue barely tastes the creamy morsel.

Sorrow of unfinished deeds, incomplete thoughts
Unfulfilled dreams, a vague scrawl,
etched, charcoal-black, across the moon mirror.
The pink head twitches again, curling and tasting unspoken words
mind throbs angrily, silences the wet slob;
rattles against the drying skull, a rasping sigh.

Ego gives away to egolessness;
Suspended animation, a limp balloon.
Cataracted inner eye shuts slowly
Cerebral metabolism has slowed down
Creaking bones strain with each move.

Age has withered thoughts,
A stale, out-dated fragment
An archaic ramble; the metaphorical toothlessness,
A long drawn bitter shriek-
I mumble intelligibly while the rest of the world moves away;
grating breath leaves odour of decayed memories.
Shrunken, withered, old
Senility hath set in

I turned 24 today.