Monday, October 12, 2015

Once upon a Halloween

Once upon a Halloween.

Candlelight on mosaic floor
A howling wind knocks on my creaky door
The handle turns,
Oh the candle burns!...
Into the last raging flame
Then a molten stub again.
I see no more.

Cold as oil your creeping veil
Makes me your bride
And I hear your spell
Whispered like doom's omen
Tonight forever I'm slain.

Weeping softly from afar
A childlike maddening crooning in my ear
The persistent background noise
Of a stubborn barking dog
suddenly it ceases
And then the cold hard knock!

I am a mass of dread jelly quivering
On the ground
What creeps upon me does so with no audible sound
Claws like serrated pincers upon my throat
I see my bloated corpse upon the ceiling float

And the moon makes such a flouncy fluid mirth
Frothing into silvery disjointed rays that birth
A beauty that dresses the ghoulish hideous night
Of my betrothal to the Daemon sprite.

The rites complete I spin into
A frozen blur
My mind scalped off the body of fear
The darkness descending in me complete
The candle at my feet , now relit

And the only other thing besides me is you
Of leering mien and rubicund hue
Swarthy hirsute limbs entwined in mine
The stench of odorous talons soaked in my blood now thine

My last flickering light of sanity
Extinguished
As walls of flame leap into tongues
That jeer and hiss
Embracing darkness I am reborn
Into this
Never ending nightmare of
Tenebris.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Some days

Somedays

Someday I will write my  greatest poem yet
That's the promise I keep making to myself
For each trashy pedantic piece of litany I keep pouring out
As if my heart were so easy
So brazenly cheap.

Self valuation is a fine art taught early on
By loving hearts in whose bosoms you forever rest
If you've never learnt it you will
Sell yourself
Shorter than the night before
Your scheduled heart break.

Because you plan your own doom
When you sell yourself short
It's a post dated cheque and
that's all you've got
But when you walk away from the world returning into yourself
Your heart beats its proudest in 
forlorn state.

True hearts never need to feel ashamed
Their love is their highest stock and its value sets them apart
You cannot bid for what's not on the marketplace
You can only win the love of a self aware heart.

By knowing how love works
Through merciful care
Risking your own
becomes its loveliest dare
Rose petal soft yet stiff as a thorn
This heart resides in your love when
You dwell upon
Only the one.

So meanwhile...
my poems pour out in all shapes and size
With many a boring platitude and a few white lies
That lay waste my days and shame my nights
But my heart knows itself in every
secret sigh.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Saturday, October 3, 2015

Of Gunpowder, Treason and Plot.

Too many Hollywood movies.  Too many depictions of invincible macho war machines.

Keanu Reeves aka Neo the Chosen One for example, or the one man army of Arnold Schwarzenegger aka Terminator.

Single handedly responsible for the salvation of the human race or something like that.

People especially Americans have started swallowing the fairy tale of the mythic hero who saves his family and homestead from the guns of the invaders the villainous corrupt government the borderline lunatics on the fringes of society.

How will they do so? Um...through purchase of guns of course. And of  course they need those sophisticated assault weapons just in case it's the corrupt government they have to contend with. ...presumably on Armageddon day.

I can almost envisage the apocalyptic scenes that flash through those drive in movie minds.
A core Christian belief in the End of Days (where the angels blow trumpets of doom), coupled with the fear of a renegade US government turning upon its oen poor huddled masses, and boom!
We're against Gun Control because we need guns to protect ourselves.
Never mind that however many sophisticated weapons you buy, to the US army your arsenal will look like a toy shop.
And the people who profit making weapons for mass consumption and mass destruction will rake in money with their blood stained claws. Laughing all the way to the bank.

Most men post their reasons for justifying gun possession on social media as "I will die protecting my women and children and my home with my finger on the trigger, God bless America!"
You know what? If it's really the Government that turns rogue, then yes You will die. And leave behind orphans and widows because your weapons won't be a match for trained warriorswith their firepower.
Unless you really are a cybernetic organism or Mr. Faster-than-thought Anderson.
The real service that you could provide your women and children would be to tirelessly campaign for legislation limiting government powers, putting caps on defence spending and yes enforcing strict gun control.

That would quickly take care of all the lunatics who want to walk into  schools movie theatres and churches and take down as many as they can in a mass decimation, before they can complete
their personal suicide missions.

Yes don't laugh American heros, or wannabes, each time you mouth off about how you'll protect your families with guns if necessary you're also only mentally enacting personal suicide missions.
A far better service to your families and nations would be to do the more difficult less adrenalin stirring thing. Use your brains neurons firing till the last cells go kaput and not your laughably limited brawn.
You might find brain cells don't die in vain but leave behind pathways and associated networks for others to follow. True heroes are not Greek gods  with bulging six packs but those who hone their minds to cut through what the opposition purposely puts up...
Veils of dissimulation.
I'm Indian.  Yes we're not allowed to possess guns by our corrupt and twisted government.
But you know what? At least for that one mercy I thank them.
It means guns are equally hard to come by for our local nut jobs who want to walk into my sons schools and spill some fresh kindergarten blood.
And the mentally ill exist in every society and indeed they won't go away.
But guns can and should if you say you're civilized and the oen is your only sword.

I write this because even at this great distance of space and now sadly time,
I renember spending Christmas Day crying for the innocents of Sandy Hook.
As a family we couldn't stop each time we looked at our two laughing toddlers rolling on the floor in joy secure in their parents protection.

And then watching amazed while the so called Superpower of the First World pussyfooted around the powerful defence dealers and gun lobbyists and showed that they're utterly helpless to enforce strong measures.

Guns they won't protect you.
Against an organized and paid police force or  militia.
Against the lawbreakers and lunatics, well you won't need them to, if they're totally deprived and stripped of the opportunity to possess guns too.

Sale of firearms for mass consumption and the ballooning growth of a profit making industry on it's shoulders is what has to be stopped. Because greed  is the reason for the perpetuation of evil. Greed and political cowardice and mass hypnosis birthing megalomania.
Guns will not ultimately empower.

But mass protests using the power of your united votes, campaigning for comprehensive legislation and imposing sanctions on the gun industry ousting them fully from civilian spheres will .

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Search

My essence is in search
Constantly craving
Communication commonality
Continuity commitment.

Communication
Breaks down
Commonality becomes
Commonplace
Continuity enforced into monotony
Wears thin frayed patience...
Breaching the fortress
Commitment.

Rickety rails
Jump off and fly
Off the ground
Never look back
At the ground
Fall into grace
And learn to know
To love your place.

I need to
Pause and erase it
The mind rebels
Against habitual newsfeed
Reeled in
Canonical free will
Which is indoctrination
Subtle.

Grace is sublime
Kindled courage
Not resignation
And grace resides
In its fervor.

I'm Venus
Unafraid
Mars cold solitary
Sadly seduced
So reduced
A vehement red ruby
Of venom
Spluttering
Blustering
Adamant.

Women
Rebels without
Orbits
Spinning wild
Into ruthless solitaires
Feminine and
Fortuitous.

Matchless majestic
Peerless
Humility
Above
Hubris.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015


Futility

Randy Nii your accidental phrase "love is a lifeline" brought about this poem.

Futility

Love is a lifeline
Love is a palm sign
Mapping alignments
Between star studded cosmos
Spinning above us
A galactic waxing
And waning
Of incomprehensible design.

Love is a lifeline
Baby show me your soft palms
I will make note of your address
Final destination's sad trace
Maybe you and I
We'll lose each other
It's okay
Nothing in our greedy hands
The archway pre engineered
Your mind only inclines
Stellar axes determine.

Love is a life line
Walk away from divination's
Website
The spin of your fortune
The lamellated cast moon
Will lift you, leap and soar
But you fall cold stardust
Weighed down by saggy
motions.

Love is a lifeline
Fragile rosy etched fine
Elegantly striking out through
plains and valleys and deftly
Turning back at mountains
To destroy your creation
Yoked to
Ephemeral emotions

Love is a lifeline
Taken at the floodgates
Flushfaced by four aces
Whirlpool down the drab drain.
You will fall into a deep place
Murderous poppy fields
Hack at your space
Bring eternal sleep
As days turn darker
Heralding great night

Love ends in perfect alignment
Imperfect destiny
Fulfilled flawless.
This love is just
a faint delicate line
Drunken daisies joining hands
In feeble chains of futile
Conspiracy.
My fallacious malicious
Lifeline.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Thursday, October 1, 2015

Dark

Dark

Shadow life
Empty world
Ugly mind
Oh my pretty child.

I gave to you
The gift of life
I was supposed to be
The bringer of light

But the heart
Of a would-be
Best mother
Encounters the poisonous
daily failures
Of being a good wife
And you can be both,
I think it's's easier to be
But being only the one,
Can take the toll
The ugly price
Of disunity.

Loss of peace
Ever watchful unease
In this crowded
Cowed down mind
Where fear holds
Unending lease.

My room is in shadows
And I see sharp slippery shapes
Of inner demons
As they stride my walls
Straddle my mind
My soul possess.

So easy is it
To devalue dismiss
Souls lost and scorned
Never finding a niche.

This horrific cold darkness
This loathsome lost night
Etched in my being
But I still weep and fight.

And my eyes always glisten dark
With the hope I can teach
Hold tight on to belief.
That you'll find your highest altitude
and if you can't you'll still be good
My darling it will be alright.

There's no where to go
My child
So always
Towards the light.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Unfinished

I haven't succeeded
I haven't bled
Bruised black and blue
But I always fled
The consequences
I have a need
An impossible greed
An impotent desire
To succeed.

I haven't been me
I haven't lived me
I haven't listened
To my innermost me.

And you can't dream
the beauty it said
How it begged to be bled
The happiness it promised
if only,
I hadn't,
I hadn't fled.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015