lovely woman
Stands at turn of roads
Which way will she go
Legs akimbo and head down in
thought
How will this beautiful flower grow?
Her head has memories of
Silver clouds
Sunlined days ago
And inside her a sweet little girl
Dares not let go.
Ruefully her mouth
Makes a brave little moue
The road behind was long
And if she could have reached this far ahead
Why the rest should be
A song.
(c) Amrita Valan 2015
The last time
I will not meet you
in my thoughts
Has come around
Again.
This has got to be
That last time
Ifeel the wrench
Of pain
Audible, alive
A scream
that never died.
Writhing inside
A basket of
Hissing snakes.
And something crumbles
Inside
Crystalline granular
Crushed ice
Melting to molasses
A slow drip...
Drip...drip.
There's an end
To even endless pain.
Malingering,badgering
Like a bad dream
Curling me up into a fetal
ball of
Raw pink flesh .
Whatever clutches my heart
Has turned septic
A disease and now surely
Must be drained.
Not love no longer pain...
And I wonder will your memories be,
A litany of unease?
I expelled I exorcized
the ghosts...
But I cannot annihilate sudden fits of grief.
The tears dry before they can even fall
Eventually the heart learns all
Smash it often enough against unfeeling walls
Naiveté becomes practical
A cold malicious atavistic pride
Not to be taken for a ride.
For coaches turns out to be hollowed pumpkin shells
Upon midnights stroke of hell,
By the wishing well,
Coachmen and horses do turn back to mice
Fairy godmothers and charming princes
I'm quite certain now,
That both are lies.
Am I crying then for you, or me
Soul stung I hear heart's lullaby
My streaming spring bed
Though, is almost dry
Thirst can't quench the pity
Of what must die.
Again and again I will feel pain
Sure cessation of recycled rain
The ability to feel a tender sorrow
Keeps alive my hidden
Tomorrows.
Perfect planning for coming of age
As our souls mature to vintage
How to acquire the title of a sage
When all is lost
Lose your outrage.
So I accept
The terms of life
Be calm
Become at ease
And pick up the broken
thread where it was released
The moment turns, to return.
There are no last times
In our mind.
But Time is,
Finite.
our mortal portion
Carve we
As we will.
Melting passion
In pearly brine
Must have been
Part of some grand design
to straighten spines
To realign
To accept that it was destined
Love plays cruel to be most kind.
So only now, am I finally
Beginning to realize
I'm as happy as I desire to be
Don't need no fairies
Men or mice.
I can live without
you.
You're my best friend
You opened my eyes.
(c) Amrita Valan 2015
Weekly Challenge Oct 25-Nov 1
When the veil between dimensions is thinnest...
When the world reaches its own shallow brink
When Time rises a holocaust of itself
When sun fades to evil
Behind the scenes
On such an All Hallows Eve
This tale enchanted begins...
Dark and lean and lovely as a cloud was she
Her beauty enveloped
And wrapped me lightly
A soft cloak of velveteen sin.
She was bright and gentle and she always lent me her light
Though it was dark and grey
I,
a glow worm in her faint starlight, expelling doubts
Like miasma.
She was peace and family
She was silence
Of remembered childhood
She was familiar tombstone
blessing earthly graveyards.
The friend who never spoke much but carried you in her heart
And her love cradled you
All cozy, crazily
Comfortable.
She was the ghastly story you
Would never tell
But seek all your life
Yet only in lewd secretive tales
And regale in steeped
Memories.
Now she half touched me in
dreams.
Now she disappeared...
Left me flaming
A ghost torch
Of kisses from coral
Cobra lips.
So I looked into my mirror
Oh fatal glance
Hoping she would be found
Shrouded
In mists of wistful sighs.
Turn truth inside out and upside
down
Arise in full glory
Of sweet suspended lie.
My dark clouded thoughts held mournful sway
Rain swollen my eyes
barely held briny
Tears at bay.
She smiled and the mirror shone
Brittle silver and blazing bones
kind harmony welling from earnest eyes...
When....
the veils between dimensions were at their thinnest....
My heart rapt
Leapt into her lap
I lay sobbing on the floor and
How I laughed!
Twisting knives in my tormented torso
Her tempest touch
Enveloped me
As her form stepped out through
Thresholds unknown.
Terror turned me
stone
My vision burned
Her chaste visage flawless riches
Towards me turned
Peerless amidst the witches
Dark and stately her brazen trance
My heart prostrate at her command
And she transformed from
The covenant of my trust
Into amorous femme fatale
The tryst with rubicund lust...
The rest...
Look into your mirror
Therein it dwells
Mortality evermore
Shall fail.
But not tomorrow,
Let the day roll by
For tonight and tomorrow
The gargoyles sigh.
Thus ends my tale on
All Hallows Eve
The lurid ending of
My highest romance
That brought me in
A lead casket
floating upon a
Dead Sea of grief.
on another night
Perhaps I would've withstood
But not when ravenous
Hags and scavengers seared
The phantom woods
In search of souls thus
Forever soiled
Who dared to relieve
Joys of mortal past
And were unutterably
Spoiled.
Death took me that night
Like nothing could
I died in her arms
As many men
gladly would
Became two deathless eyes
Swollen in the parched night sky.
Listen ye to the
Owl...
Twoo whit twoo
Listen well
For his most hard earned wisdom
Too fetid and foul.
.....And nevermore dare gaze
Upon reflections of your soul
In mirror's crystal clear bowl
Never ever on Halloween
For it's your soul
Sprites need to win.
(c) Amrita Valan 2015
Pride denies
Pride takes on life
Values itself
At the going rate.
I cannot afford
It's affront to my
Heart.
My heart is a place
Of happiness.
When I'm not seeking looking
Or marking time
Pride is defiant, petty
Wants me to take
Second place
While it roars alive
Its affronted rage
Too proud to appear
Unhappy
Too proud to seek solace
Too proud to admit
It's only
Losing grace.
I wasn't unhappy
Till I tried not to be.
Desperately seeking
Happiness
Trying tested formulae
The doorways so promising
The lock clicks open
And shut
Ali baba's magic cave
With its catch phrase password.
Meaningless pleasure
steeped in
Piquant spiced up meanings.
So one last treacherous embrace
Knaves of gluttony,
My forty thieving friends
your defiant deviance
My alter ego raves
Brandishing such brazen knives Sparkle of nickel cadmium blades.
Undaunted, I dance enmeshed in seven sinful veils
Lust rampant in sulpherous haze
Deception's soft flurry lace
Vanity hiding behind
vapid vacuous face.
Pride's a two faced shrew
It can act so truly
humble and meek
To save face it will even feign
Timid appearances
frail and weak.
The flitting happiness we hustle
To keep
Ostentatiously it's perfume reeks
The pride that pretends not to weep
Forgets what the heart must truly seek.
I am so sure now,
I was better off,
better off than this.
When I was content
To be
In the is.
Much better to crush and shatter
brittle hopes
Vaporize bawdy
Tawdry dreams
When I look at what could be
And is
Oh existence!
And existence of
consciousness,
I am but a beautiful ravenous kiss
In your peerless timeless
Fleeting breeze.
With no time to spare
On dubious luxuries
epiphanies and fits
Of futile future bliss.
Blustering red faced hubris
I hunt you down
On your wounded animal pride
I firmly ensconce the thorny encircled crown
Reductionist of life's very scope
Pride you're now disrobed
A recurring clichéd trope.
And though
Aimals have a right
To lick their wounds
It's only in helpless innocence
If they bleed upon the ground
But arrogance howls
like a defiant wolf
Into the moon's visage.
Shedding blood as its nightly
evil purge.
I am a glass pane to reflect
the world that is
Clear, frosted
Even better when stained
With gorgeous golden joy or
Grapes' passionate purplish hues
pain paints me in such wondrous
Blues
I wouldn't part with these sorrows true
They make earthly kaleidoscopes
Forever beautiful.
(c) Amrita Valan 2015
Oh shucks I'm the devil. We're currently facing planned power outages every evening between 7pm to 8pm.
This is the time while waiting for 8pm lights and dinner we have adapted into each doing our own thing.
I of course fiddle with my cell try to write surf the wildly exciting and impossible net but today baby asked me for a drink because he was "feeling dry!"
I carefully made my way to the kitchen to get him a glass of water correcting his English on the way and realized I couldn't pour water into his narrow necked sipper in the dark.
I asked, "someone fetch my cell please."
Kids were busy rioting with their daddy in the only room equipped with a power box light. Noone answered.
I shouted "can I have a light? water's dripping everywhere!"
No answer except squeals of delight from kids being tickled by daddy.
"Light!!!", I roared.
More squeals and squeaks.
"I need a light", I screamed then waited till a count of 3 and in an ominously grave voice I thundered, "Let There Be Light!"
It was impressive if I say so myself.
I stood waiting for magical things to happen. And they did.
As I finished my thunderous command our entire house was plunged into pitch darkness.
I closed the tap and said cuttingly, "Anto, if this is your idea of a joke then...don't you... Dare!!", stuttering my indignation.
Anto shone his teeny cell phone torch and looked at me puzzled. "I didn't
switch off the power box"
Just then baby handed me the little lamp thingy that attaches to the power box.
"Here mamma you said you wanted light, so I unplugged it and brought it to you."
Yes he sure did.
I'm now thoroughly enlightened.
A) I am Not God.
B) God lucked out that saboteur Josh wasn't around to wreck creation when he said let there be light.
I guess golden words should never be repeated.
Perhaps not even by God.
(c) Amrita Valan 2015
Conquistadors Kissing the Sidewalk
Kissing divisive sidewalks
Separating moth eaten
Nightmares and
Dust laden dreams...
Glass slippers in the air
raining cinderella ashes
Slipping off for a fantastic
Tale... hope on hands
Doing freedom cartwheels.
Snap of electric
Stars crackling in my hair
Terse static power
In defiance of gravity
Standing on its head
There's no dreaming grace
No dread reckoning
No redeeming our undead.
Buffer memorials
Toast past regrets
Oases of heaven
Shimmer in silence
Rusty ramshackle
back gates.
Fallen scarred
Martyred starred
Marked for life
With instant body art
lightning tatoos
Tightening nooze
A mother a while
And a while ago
A maladjusted wife.
Scared to death
Why don't we learn
Of late
Reality plays its eclectic score
too subtle too flawed
Too variable
flowing in a steady flood
from under earthquake's floor.
Predictably unpredictable
Eventually everyone
dissembles
Let's play musical chairs
To unseat the disabled.
Trust is a swear word.
Lets get unplugged
And like thanksgiving turkey
And Halloween pumpkin.
Carve out the inner angst.
What devilish self absorption
What a diva's distortion.
Narcissistic love marries
Agonized angst
Just islands revisited
In a reality show's
Wide screen stance
Some highs
Some lows.
Unjust desserts
Ill timed romance.
On a childhood excursion
Handcuffed to parents
Protection's privileged
Prison, unto the private beach
Of parental sand castles
Of secretive sea shells
Sounding guarded conches
Development of a rich
Variegated interior self
Left undisturbed and
nurturing itself.
A life that's not sacrilege
Nor sacrifice designed for
Global gluttony.
Surreal jutting bones
Drop dead beauty
Comely cannibal cliffs
Ushering us to the cynical climb
Upto Conical Suicide peak.
The cyclical ritual sacrifice.
Beckoning deep blue bay
Wherein danger lies
froth dancing high
Sunken basin of guilts
And unpaid debts
Our burdens are ever
What we can't deny.
Your exhilarating evil panic
For the crazed hissing gaze of millions
Bored to death
So will she die?
...
Before or after the break?
Atonement in beauty.
Synchronize with nature.
Arise in simplicity.
Strength in acknowledgement
Certainty reduced to shreds
Capacity derived from
Deprivation of
All control.
The faith in which a soul is blessed
Is a requiem to depravity.
Arousal of soft edged visionary
Wild child of acceptance.
And the fine fellowship of deceptive
Dapper dandies and deliquescent divas...
In the antechambers of
Valhalla they hold court.
Fake Gods and heroes
Their heir humanity
Drooling indignation
Desirous to be sold to
The highest bidder
Who thumps his chest
Buys the best
And locks art up,
Chaste chattel in his bed.
We must rake their chests
Probing for evidence
Clawing gnawing into somnolent souls
clueless what hearts
May be.
Maybe in the age of plastic
Hearts became pace makers
pulsating plasma meat
Transgendered trendsetters accelerating hysterical
Entropic beats.
Exploding the notions of
Exploring the realms of boundless
Imaginations
The alms without boundaries
In humble bountiful souls....
Precious precocious
Conquistadors
Seeking cosmic gold.
(c) Amrita Valan 2015
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs
How beautifully ethereal it's music to the ears
Annointing closed eyes with tempered visions
Matchless romance beyond gates of fear
I am entranced to think it today
What might have been could've stayed
It was sweet perfume my innocent bliss
Now the fumes of sighs make night's blue abyss
Yesterday's misty haze proves no lie
Love lies beyond our questions
Above Hows and Whys
It's always been for better and for
Worse
Love creates it's rationale and ambience
Mortally stricken I delved into
My antique shop of
Potpourri
A few free moments I dwell in peace
The portal gleaming a golden arch
My hands lift up the urn with the
Magic powdered pass
Once more before morning
Overtakes us my life
Find me take away the loss
With your bewitching love
Smoke of heaven
Fume of passionate sighs
(c) Amrita Valan 2015
