SERIOUS BUSINESS
1.Serious Business
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The escape velocity of someone leaving
is arbitrary. Remember the hare in the
hare-tortoise story. After you walked
beyond my line of sight, the ping-pong
balls of loneliness appeared. There
sounds the sounds of torn prayer. A
metaphor arrived before I could go
and fetch it from a copy-paste version
of a sad poem. In it there were mushrooms
dying beneath the hard sunshafts. The
weather made me remember the first
screenshot I saved of yours. Your
spectacles in your hands gave me
a lot of feelings. The faint iridescence
of the myopic glasses boldly traveled
to the dark quarters of my flesh and
suddenly lit up everything of me I
had no idea of. It was your name
puddling at every nook. I am waiting
for them to become doors. And
approach to the story I knew not, joy
had something serious to do with you.
2. The Poem
_____________
In this poem the kinetics of day
things have come to a halt. It is
day and what rain did within
the dark cusps of night are now
a visual treat. The stairs covered
by mud like a risk that won’t
be wrong if called beauty. The
birds with wet feathers had become
through night a poem washed by
metaphors of holding. The young
leaves lie in silence on the floor in
no particular fashion. Like narratives
stumbling mid-sentence. The overhead
clouds too quick in their goings boarded
the train to oblivion. A time that has no
dark sides has a ribbon of faith flowing
through its middle. I am here surrounded
by a subtle form of eternity..My intimacy
with it growing up like a life emerging from
the strained vignettes of the present one.
3. Certainty
_____________
I was certain it was joy: knowing you, loving
you. But the way grief gets carried into poems,
portraits; joy finds a difficult time to get its
concrete medium. One day, before you came,
I heard your footsteps arriving. And suddenly all
that has ever ached went for a time-out. Then a
squirrel emerged from a running through my
consciousness and placed a pistachio on my
palm. I saw it departing like a solved riddle
of expectation. And then followed a hunger
behaving like a door swaying to light. Who
do I need to speak to? And then echoed from
everything, the real definition of desires. It is
an ode striking on the weather remnants before
they change their ship-course for oblivion. That
said, the wind is easy and running well. Time
has no hidden conditions as for now. There is
still the moon in wait after the sun gets going.
The soft columns of hymns pull me in. I stand
among them and watch my loneliness doing
what comforts it now. It had no obligation
to stay with me but suddenly it snatched the
pistachio and gulped down. I stood as a fool.