On her waistline
Blue-grey on the ground before me
Turned the dew drop jewels invisible
Drowning in a woman’s curves
I understood how no ornament could define her
I understood why she never tried
There were two things he told her he wanted:
The cream atop the American dream
And a girl batting her eyelids, the color of milk
She whipped the yellow emulsion
And drank the liquid that remained
Tied a blindfold upon his eyes and
Told him to wait.
He took years to find me
Years when I trampled over brambles
Bare knees and untied laces in the wilderness
Whistling like the bluebird
He came out at night though
And imitated the owl’s hoot
So we met at dawn and found a glade
To practice our little bird songs
Did I tell you, your limbs
Like shoots from soil, grew straight out
Found me. Got entangled.
Pulled apart the hairy edges of my skin
I’m the torn-up remains of a troubled soul
The signs of your massacre all over me
You fled like magic, I cursed you
You found my lips, I burned you.
Would you trace the inward arcs my breasts make
When we’re kissing under a light post
When we’re kissing and people stare
When we’re kissing and someone smokes
When we’re kissing and the day is gone
When we’re kissing and it’s almost dawn
Could you tell, with each kiss
What havoc our love is
And how to tell it apart
From the one tearing the world.
Your birthday was a beautiful day
Ninety-nine candles and one, just for a joke
I wanted to say I loved the way your dark hair fell across your forehead
And I was broken without you, like one-half of a whole
I wrote the words; my poems a half-cooked treat
The eggs were plunged deep into the cake but
You cried when you saw the candles
I don’t know why they had told me once
“Women like their men with a sense of humor”.
They mocked me when I read out my first poem
I was like cold water poured on a hot rock
This sensation was new, it was horrifying
The purity evaporated in a single dry fizzle
Today I note-
A single-lined book at the foot of the bed
And simple verse
And steaming coffee
Your arms allow me to grow old fearlessly.
I don’t want to know
If there is a God in the night sky
Your simple faith crushes the soul out of me
It is cold out there in the universe, I say
We aren’t part of any great mystery
Don’t console me with nothingness
Don’t console me with anything at all
I am inconsolably lost to this universe
To this life and to all others beyond it
I hold no claim to any foreign truth
I’ll follow your footprints into the mud and from my humble hole
We can gaze at the stars-
You’ll see magical possibilities, I’ll see balls of fire
But I’m content because you will still console me
Until my hair turn grey.
The clothes lay on the floor
Like waves brought to a halt against a shore
They trembled because the distance between them
How could one little act be so magnificent
That the universe stopped pulsating
And became a mere portrait
On the drab wall of reality
Whoever built it was a fool!
But oh, such a passionate fool.
I am over my creative standstill. I decided to welcome myself back into the folds of magic with a collection of small poems that reflect the moods of love. The hour it took to create these was a happy one. Hope you liked them!