Monday, August 27, 2012

Not everything is a secret

There will always be coming home,
to men who know how to cry,
to women who  know how to sing by the moon
and to a little girl who does not want to stay inside
the shell of this small universe.
*
Don’t freeze the lava, it may blow
right to the core of its nucleus
but we know, with energy comes life
and with life, everything burns to die.
*
I am a narcissist with a certain stroke,
I say of luck upturned. Trust me,
when I mention fate, I am as numb as that

dead ox on the highway,
spilling white skin around with a tinge of ocean red.
But I am waiting for a re-arrangement,
rather metamorphosis
when I wake up to the rule again
with the violin again in the senses.
*
The mogul says aloud, he will trade the world.
The eyes shine, in awe and tears
but I sit in this farthest corner of the galaxy I assume
Spinning with laughter to this foolishness
because they don’t know what I know
and what I know is a paradox
which no matter what, won’t be resolved
till the mogul trades the world

and till the deal ceases.
Remember not everything is a secret.

4 comments:

Green Speck said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Green Speck said...

You are an amazing poet !!!

Sunakshi said...

This is a wow one :)

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

I don't know if this is metamorphosis, but it certainly is a coagulation of ideas, pent up ideas.


I don't want to change the world, a world that is not mine.

Cheers,
Blasphemous Aesthete