The God's must be Lobsters

When I close my eyes
Serrated rows of skull white
Tombstones march past
A silent procession
This lassitude
Won't last.

All this silliness
Silken silences
This tomfoolery
These motions
And emotions
Our fetching passes
Will melt into
Years long gone by,
Gold sutures of
Sunlight
threading absent nights.

Why?

This brief hiatus,
So brave
That men spin mythos
beauty that melts
Corrodes mere ethos
Brilliance that's borderline
Crazy
Defying notions of Logos
Craziness that stokes
Genius igniting faith,
sparks of passing
Divinity.
Borderline delusions?

Pass over.
Pass over.
We smear our heart blood
On this lovely lintel
Of longing
Mother earth
Our hearts
Bubble your song
Till last bloodied
Breath.

Life invites
Death ushers,
Tarry no more
bury your nihilism
In the graves
Of yesterday's sunlight.

Oh, how my Grandparents
Call me,
Forefathers
shriek from high heaven
These frail bones
Cannot bear the burden
I close my eyes.

Wayward winsome
Gravestones
Ardent lovers
Beckon me.

Summoned into
Existence
By summertime longings
Loving co-creators
Blueprints of longevity
Bookended between telomeres.

Immortality?
Is only for the lobsters.

Not for tenacious builders
Of Great pyramids of Giza
Or dedicated
Skyscrapers of Wall Street.
Mammoths and cetaceans
Shall dispose mighty carcasses
For desultory  crustaceans.

Divinity imaged in
Unthinking inscrutable
Crustaceans scuttling
Back and forth
glowering at our cruelty
As we boil them alive
Instantaneous immortality
On our jaded taste buds.

It's not the Gods
Who are the crazy ones
After all.
 
(c) Amrita Valan 2016