Resume

Cocoon

Leash of appropriateness

We translate it all over again,

Adrift to keep the reminiscence

And compile the muddle of gentlemen.

Apparently free; are we?
Our wings are all hesitating,

Thrown into disarray of sluggishness

And when we finish our escape

We are driven in ignorant bliss

We look as if perched in hushed sweetness of oblivious.

Ode to Abrasion

A solitary spot rise the trumpet’s blaze

The extraordinary ruins marked

With the hollows of canals & myriad

The final rendezvous glimmered in lamps.

Stone conduits deform,

Handsome windblown testimonials

From the obituary page

Obstinate cathedral will follow.

Standing congested without restraint

Unblemished doors envelop a foaming cacophony

Some hoarse inhalation again,

Across measured blue windows.

Lost in Fluent running chords of mumble

Like deviation in the sky,

The dense dwelling softly shifting

Harmonic makeup and its spectral fogs

Complicated as that sky dive through smoke,

Furled petals turning into rich metals,

The cobbled street below whispering out of pained friction

Applauding pale edging rooms sail to shadows.

Thoughts of Blindness

Sluggishly, merchant

Roaming through rough burnt

As deep leaf soars
Agony destroys,

Tartly ripe churchyard.

Carnivores rejuvenates carelessly
With squirrels glittering

Beehive pecks brightly.

Some Funny Stories

Sorrow filled weeps at night

Underneath his loving look,

A man rages in a sigh

And runs in joy.

Laughing for being born

At brick walled sunlight.

Intemperance

With wooden windows,

Hanging in each bedroom

Drown with blue shimmering mascara,

Nights in rinse in new haze,

To disseminate into new air.

Bare feet painted on waves

Contrivance used by others,

Like a rosary costume that sparkles with grace

Reckoning Beads move round

Flesh to flesh and spills the cauldron.

Trivial measurements

In the prolific dirt

A stitched comforter

With the thread of time

Of patterned numbers
flicker fast and slow on fingertips.

In the grit- dirt children bemused

Out of the silence of the make somewhere your home

Over an crushed metal discarded long ago.

It’s an allusion in the extravagance of sanctuary

To mourn and remember

That we inhabit in this arrangement.

Door

Other waged people live in animation

May say, in sweet beliefs,
songs from the trivial woodland

Shred towards Slowly, cautiously,

Past the hour

Stories unwritten or told

Of a million era bearing in mind

Eyes open, once again.