Not Once Again

It's Not Once Again.

The earth turns and returns
So do our memories
But nevermore does it reverse gear
To yesteryears
No retrograde in real time.

So daydreamer
At the altar of the inner clock
Watch that clock on the mounted wall
Depleting your seemingly bountiful wallet
With the swinging cheek of pendulum
More remorseless than hammer and mallet.

Time the surrealist striker
Goes fastest
When you're a radiant
Cinderella at the ball
At other times it creeps eerily
In life's examination hall.
Like a blank page your day shines upon its face
And its humorous hands softly trace
Track the patterns of  each day
Well spent or spent without exchange.

So I won't place this doom on you
That for your wake up kiss I wait
I am up and about and refreshed
I learnt when I'm down
I'm not done yet

A tender tale was yesterday
Today dry rose of retrospect
I wrap you around my heart so tenderly
Hoping that the delicate press
will keep eternally fresh and alive
The loveliness
Though flowers that budded upon your lips are withered blossoms 
Gathering words sentenced to sleep I weep
And though I pleaded that you forget me not...
Those forget-me-nots
Are all I can keep.

This is a dream.
A waking scream.
This is nightmare
In broad daylight.
When all I see
is my mind's eyes
And blind am I
to actual sight.

Both are truths.
Both must live.
If one were killed
By other
None would remain
To forgive the killer.

Dreaming mind I soothe you to sleep...
Tomorrow we both shall either weep.
Or painfully towards new light shall creep...
Only the climber gauges if the path's too steep.

I have fallen stumbled slid upon my belly
Come down an avalanche in torrential flow
Or in painful glide which scraped my soul's elbows
Skinned alive and flayed of hope...
The skin of self esteem denuded naked ashamed alone.
Every rope of safe passage a delusion.
But the one I clung to with belief
Was alone sturdy enough to offer relief
And upon every hidden rung my hurt and tears I have sung.

From the bottom of my gully I shall climb
dreading to lose this foothold of flimsy loving
That cannot take the weight of real love and loss
Dreading but never ceasing...
Again and again.
 
And active mind alert and taking stock..
Calls suchlike love an absurd mock...

A smile the world turns
A delicate mile
And at the turnstiles of tears
You turn
Return my smile for a little
while.

There is no mockery
No mock love
And even  in the praise of the  mocking bird
Language lives and heart's intentions come across.

All rights reserved
(c) Amrita Valan 2014