Culpa Diem

Tomorrow I will realign
Deal with my errant mind
Let me be today
A weed, a wart, a calloused soul
In need,
Today let me
Be this way
Let us bleed.

I won't shame myself into muted guilt.
I live in the crooked house
Ludicrous, incredulous,
That my Masonic soul built.

The Muse croaks inside
Tears run dry.
I love it like this.
I will not cry.

Today I will drink
My effy apple cider
I will  have milfy honey with
Lemon water.
My manna, crisp
Wafers mild,
With vanilla frost
Let today be insipid
Damnation's cost.

There's a dilettante soul
Put out there
Who gets souls
Like ours,
In our hellish hours.

I write
I write
To my lewdvleft
To my prissy right
Mirrors of my
Foot-in-the-mouth,
Mad disease.

Making mold
Flower
Like blue veined cheese
Gourmet delight
Ripe words like these.

A world of wanton
Signifiers
To each his own
Whatever you please.

Today's cupid date
Demands release.
I think I have earned
Boredom's meiotic kiss.

All hallowed poetry
Reduce me thus
Can't glorify
Sweet saccharine mush

Ideals be fine wares
To pitch on pedestals,
Mine are Humpty Dumpties,
Falling forever
Off the wall.

I will walk on water
I heard
There's a simple trick to it
Fire eating, anaerobic breathing,
With my wayward wit.

Angst duly emptied,
Poetry received
As a gunmetal funeral urn,
Partake my dust
Thank you
My friends
That's all you'll receive
Of my flesh
And blood.

Today today
Today's the day
Seize it
Release it,

Grief,
Requires sang froid
To be felt.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Touch

Did I touch you a tad less, just like that?
Was your heart missing the beat I felt?
Did I start the end spell friend?
Tell me strange things,
Tales so twist and bend.

You became distant,
Visiting high places
My mind couldn't touch,
I didn't try woo you back...
Though I wanted to,
So very much.

Yes but this time to return
Snap out of  that spell
But in a wry dry nutshell,
The coolest moments
Come, just before
Warning bells.

I sat under
Golden spires of Dominion
Knowing I'll never
Possess you again

Knowing I'll never
Touch your heart,
To try anymore
Is in vain.

I sat in high places,
One last time,
Among kings and Queens
Of men.

A serf, Hagar,
Cophetua's beggar maid
I died lying
Making belief of
Our fragile happiness.

And in the merry grinning
Sunlight
Sprinkling love light and laughter
I saw your vestments white
You were,
The Mother, Ghost and Daughter.

May imagination be the wind
Beneath the wings you lend,
God speed always
My gentle gracious friend.

Next time we meet
I will dread it so
Today's courtyard
Splashed with fun
Tomorrow land's arid desert,
A quadrangle of pain.

I will try
Not to cry
It will be the bravest tears
Suppressed,
That in my eyes reside.

So may you in peace
Abide.

Be you
Be all
You may
Wish to be.
Be able to cast out
Dark loathsome night.

But,
I wish you could have been 
My innocent Muse,
My wise Angel
Of light.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Slop Haiku challenge feb 2017

Weekly challenge
Feb 19th-26th Haiku

I couldn't copy the picture.
Also couldn't decide between these two... 😊

My slender flute bends
Blossoming love blissfully
Phallic pink posies.

My slender flute bends
Blossoming in blissful love
Fecund pink roses.

No Time

I wish there was no time
That people grew up
But didn't grow old
Or grey
Forced fade in
To sunset days.

I hate how loved ones
One day so alive
The next day
they survive
On the cusp of life
The abyss of time
Dancing death grins
And shadows
Chortling at our fear.

Time trapped
We are mocked
Constantly
In our efforts
To prolong
To be free.

Where will we
Go from here
And what is there
Left to save

Today's date
Is a slap
On my face
When
Even memories
Leave no trace

Where will we find
A brave new world
Where love in parting
Meets?
Where you never
Need say goodbye
But can hold the heart.
You greet.

Can't all our children
Can't all our forefathers
Co exist
In veils beyond
Where Time flows
Forward
And then
Wavers
In endless pools
Retaining us
At our very best
Freezing frail telomeres
So we never grow old?

But only move on a higher plane
Vibrate on a dimension
Beyond our own
So vital and vivid
We flash as if
Light sabres of glass
Sheathed in liquid gold?

Time become a harp a lyre
In our hands where finger
Flames
Play a ditty,
Life you sad liar
One you have never known
Till death you've borne
And made your own
Risen above
Becoming
The Muse and
Music
Of life,
And Love.

I think, I thought,
That time exists.

Dearest, let's go on
For now at least
Thinking Time,
A ravaging Beast,
When
Time is the Lover
You're yet to kiss,

And once you're done
You've Done Death
It's dues.

Live Again
O Human
As vibrant
Muse

As below
And so Above

Death can't be
The end of Love.

As above
So below
Life goes on
Like Light years
Transcend Time's
Constraint,

It must be so.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Picket fences

Ok. Unhappy again, by Jove! 😊😢

Destiny's child
Gorgeous illusionist
Living a lie
Craving
White picket fences.
Dressing up her drawers
Paperback romance novellas
Love making on watermarked silk cushions.
Bought on E bay.

Like a penitent spider
Stuck in her own
Lies and deceptions
Trapped in her squishy
Soft suede web.

Home is not a postmark
Or a quiet street address
Where you greet friendly
Neighbors, smug
Suburbia's face.
Leaning over shiny
White picket fences,
No, destiny's children
Live in past tenses
Forever brewing trouble
For tomorrow's
Debilitating days.

I am over the conundrums
Life is too short term
Stretched like elastic
And I want to
Let go,
My eclectic grip.
Watch me zip
And zoom,
Ignoring the nice
Neatened borders of
Your imagination
Half moon smile  hovering
Soft,
On my crescent lips.

I can't wait
To be
This destructive rocket
I can't wait,
So drink to my speed.

Destiny's children
Don't crash-land
They spontaneously ignite
Combust in mid air
In wild Neverland.
I will leave
You my love
My flesh blood and bones
In streaks of remembrance
In Time's
Ionospheric sands.

I will be free from
The Furies
Duty of dirt diggers
Gravediggers
Corpse killers
I will be Lines
In your lethal
Book of memories.

I will be poignant
A page of
Unfinished poetry.

Do fill me up
Fill out my life
As my lights
Go out,
Write the last lines
I will never get to see.

Write down
The most real
The very best of me.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Thank You

A longish one. The Valentine's Day streak continues.🤔

You make me want to make belief
To write
To love
I feel relief.

You make me wish
And wish to weep
You make me
Understand
Just what I need.

And,
I need to feel free,
Like blue skies endlessly
Migrating with the winds.
The lightness,
Of fluid loneliness
birds in gossamer flight
Beating God's gift,
Eternal wings.

And I need to feel
This vertigo
To cartwheel
Heads over heels
Dance with you in
Singing flame
To kiss your
Errant breeze.

No ecstasy
Unless we learn
To burn the pain
In comeliest of clay crucibles,
Ashes of moth wings
On candle flame
Our ardor invisible.

To bear with courage
Caterpillar years
Believing butterfly days
Ever drawing near.

Dragon Heartstrings
To guard our tale
And flashing victory
Our diamondback tail
Cauda Draconis
Signifier
That all is well.

This awkward wayward moment
But
A waiting room,
A wonderful wayside inn,
A hidden grove,
A secret garden,
A breathing space
Before everlasting
Wonders
Close in
To end this race,
In an all engulfing
Eternity ring...
Thank you
For this morning's
Beguiling wings.

I love how
You show me
This way to feel,
I love your
Magical mirroring.

At the brink
Of bottomless wells
of connecting ripples
Mimosa pits
Of mysteries.

You spell bind me,
Come blindfold me,
Eyes wide shut
Against dull mindless
Machinations,
The flow of mildewed minutes
Floating around mundane
Cesspools
Chaotic murderous
Dead seas.

Thank you for whispering
December's deceptions
The endless tease
Of summer love,
Somewhere,
Somehow,
Sometime...

Someplace else
Waxing, waning
Warming,
Waiting, silence,
In the
Silver dappled breeze.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Je m'excuse. Je m'en fous.

This man
The cause of all my angst
The fount of new found poetry
Resurrection against grief
This man
So limited in his constructs
Fights the big question down
By immersion in the mundane
He hears not the music
Of speculation
But the music of
Capitulation
And wistful resignation
His heart so dead
To pleas unspoken
His head so alive
With rights reserved
For him
His unjust dues
Sullenly claimed.

And I love
Him.
For it's Brave
To be ordinary.
It's beautiful
To accept
Reality.

And still love
Like there's no
Tomorrow.

Because
By the way
There isn't.

And
I hate him
For stealing
My Hope.

For though all ways
Must lead to
Rome
The path matters
As much as
The goal.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Belated Best Wishes

Belated Best Wishes

Flowers pressed and dried in diaries
Diaries drying time for memories
Dusty revelations on high and dry shelves
And plucky peacock feather
Pressed in plastic album
Recalls butterfly days
Of designing fair game.

Those old arias
Those shallow trivia
Testing depths of waters
On erstwhile valentine's days
Musty smell of illegal romance
On the sly
The heartbreak and hunger
The good old fashioned cry
Holding silly sentimental plaques
Gifts of Godot
Who never came.
I am in love
Not with you
You
Or You
Troubadours of
Troubled times
But with those namesakes
And keepsakes
Don Quixote and Don Juan
Of Beefy  Byronic memoirs
Bereft of gory bloodletting
But tracking the traces
Of tears
Under resolute eye lashes.

Youthful Dulcineas
Dilly dallying
By the edge of borderline
Romances
Rallying their spirits
When the decanters run dry
But old music still
Softly woos and plays.

Must I insist,
Then.
For all of you Eves out there
Who bravely partook the fruit
Of knowledge,
Happy Valentine's Day?

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Smoke on My Water

Smoke on My Water
Unsure hands
Broken gesture
Thankless lips
Unspoken prayer
Secretive mein
Futile clench
Scrunched up hands
Hostage heart
Caught in
No man's land.

Where would you go?
How could you stay?
when home isn't an address
It's a too real
Virtual place.

The soul vampyres
Are calling
They'll only suck your flesh
Imprisoned essence
In vital mesh.

Curl up
Die hard
Live large
Laugh loud
As you like

When life calls
Your bluff,
You go like snuff
Out on the third strike.

The sorry cards you were dealt
Lie broke back,
On the flat lining table
Baby whore of Babylon
Smile sable smooth
Sift smoke
On holy water
Like only are able.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Maddeningly...

She troops
She lopes
She stoops
She turns the corner.

And stops
Still as a panther
On leaf dappled branch
Sunlight glints
Through blue ventricles
What a sapphire studded
Hunch.

Aeolus calling
Shallow air breathing soul
Inhale deeply
Exhale steeply
Answer
If only you're whole

I can hear you laughing
The call of the wind
Carries my name
I can hear you stifling
All my claims
To feel this pain
In this soft sweet perfumed breeze
Hidden secret memories
Launch with ease
Seeking shelter
Wanton wanderings
Rental tease
Oh your copious call
This fool will please.

I can hear you laughing
You Mad God of men

I think my absolution
Upon the lips of fame

Can you please
Perhaps let me know
If my call was heard
Was it absurd enough
To bear fecund fruit?

The balmy salve
The calm repose
Of her Feline form
Crackles electric upon
The blue boughs of
Sparkling morn.

She will not wait
The answer
Eludes her.

This catwalk,
This hunger,
delusional, depraved,
In Sinuous motions
Tortuous notions,
Strangling hope
Taut agony gropes
For frailest footing.

Slender Mahogany
Golden ebony
Dancing in the breeze
Of tomorrow.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

Victor

Slender golden
Vicarious victor
In man's image
God shines
Bizzare upon heathen
And believer alike.

Brow beaten
Ugly wreath
I can sense
Ugly breath
Ugly wrath
I can hear
Ugly roars
Of Jubilant beasts.

While slender white
Beautiful flesh
A flower of mankind
Is crucified.

What wilts upon this cross?
So abject in dejection?
Who hides his wan face
So crestfallen?
Whose pallid lips have blood blooms deserted?
While roses of defeat secretes upon
Palms of pain?

Heinous murder
Of the Lamb of God,
I hear a murmur,
Of murder
Ancient ghosts in the air
And the depth of this
Poisoned Grail
Runs deep
Seeps within my blood
Mottled veins
Where music dreams...

...His prayer.

Forgive them
Who know not.
What They do.

Sweet sad words
Of absolution.
Strangest rejuvenation
Of men

My blood circling
Through the circas
Curdles...
I cannot see
This gentile
This heathen Philistine
This heart hardened
In a clench of steel
I cannot hear
The healing.

Tear Laden eyes
Heavy with dreams
Of dubious dutiful
Mankind.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017

The Belief

This gentle Jew
This docile flower
Sprung from the wailing  desert walls
of age old Jerusalem.

This man so maimed
Blossoming blood
Into miraculous beliefs.

Galilean... Nazarene.
Urging us on
To peace
Through purgation
The catharsis
Of blood.

His Father's business
Needed handling
Upon rough hewn Cross
His death bed he bore
And straddling an entire world
He stood watch
Through the dim darkling hours.

And forevermore fostered
Tales and parables of
His glory.

To fascinate little lives
Such as ours
Titillating us
With walks upon water
And water turning into wine.

The point being

We still needed
Proof
Before
We could learn
To wonder.

I believe
I believe
Miracles are not
Providence
Nor endorsed by
Mankind.

I believe that
Faith
Is the product
Of Goodness
And the horrid sordid price
It pays.

May your phoenix
Forever soar
Forevermore upon the ashes
Of humans
Immortalized by their belief
In Divinity.

Ardent, steadfast,
Derivative.

(c) Amrita Valan 2017