Thursday, April 2, 2009

Seamless, Dreamless...

Down here nights are grey
And heaven tumbles like tenpins
on the trembling summit of the one
who is free
Predestined hoarfrost
Prostitutes and angels lost in the
halogen maze
And distant rumblings of
the chained beast
turn into a glass-shattering
and Assault Kalashnikov
and Agent Orange…

Poet –dead
Music – asunder
Bohemian – oversexed
So finally, the countdown begins
And the lonely saxophone wails out…

Voices and sounds soon disappear –
into the jet-black ether
And the dirge of the dead souls, lost
in this never ending blizzard of the
loveless pursuit for faith and hope…
…Night reigns… Caesar falls…

Smoky words dissolve the silence
Starving jokers with sad eyes
Starving poets with dreamy eyes
Starving prophets with brooding eyes
Starving tramps with happy eyes
Starving beggars without any eyes
-- they keep on digging the silence and the
darkness, in search of some
treasure-trove – which all have heard
about, but none knows what it is…

Suddenly, just plain suddenly,
The countdown ends
But nothing happens – no,
not yet, and perhaps never, and perhaps
Not even a single candle-
flame flickers, unless of course there’s
a breeze or a moth dives into it

The stars, the mist, the silent waves
The raindrops, the tree-heads and the
Fatalists digging for gold
Revolutionaries in love with gold
Poets in love with profit and loss
Phlebas the Phoenician in love
With heartbreaks and sighs…
after burying the dead…

So it is, and so it shall be
Hence, now let’s get used to
This numb pain of feeling no pain
This stuffed hollowness from within
And those little rainbow bubbles…

Every second the stars keep on
moving away from each other,
And the starlight, vainglorious --
racing against time to reach a given
point in space which is not there

Poems, monads and fumes
Live in the Freudless dreams
And reason starts falling
apart, from the old moth-eaten wisdom
of the moon…
Let’s love to love no more
Not to love never, but ever,
To love forever
Or at least for one moment,
One wink, one detached
eyelash, floating with the snowflakes
Glinting… Teardrops… dewdrops…
A few drops…
But no rust,
Just plain pure diamond…

Bow down, for Anarchy has arrived
In the chariot of fire,
Bow, quiver, arrows and sword…
Eyes - glowing with passion and hate
Hair - flowing like the flame of Hades…
And now the lemon will be peeled
off, in one slash…

Glasses – broken
Leaves – shed
Music – jaded
Horizons – faded
Eliot – dead
Singers – tongues cut

So nothing remains to be stay
Nothing remains to say,
To be said, evermore
To be written in the epitaph
of they who went
And did not return anymore…
Pilgrims and sinners…

The equilibrium has come
Everything seems the same
Everything is the same…
No one dies, no one gets born
Nothing to mourn or to rejoice
No new songs to sing
or poems to write…
Avalanche… bitter moon…
Sleepy cactus eyes –
He’s coming.
Love to hate and
hate to love…
East of Eden, gift of the bosom
Of eternity…
Holy Ghost… Father, Son
Like a pack of cards…
Edifice built on the quicksand
Of time….
Night, kiss me
Kiss me, night…
I am your creator,
Embrace me, Morpheus….
Love, dream, hope, faith and sighs…
Arise, arise, O poet of the dark…


Samadrita said...

Ok this is real good..but something tells me that you are being too much influenced by your fav poets.I think so atleast.

Atindriyo said...

Well, actually this poem is my dedication to T.S. Eliot, the prime source of my inspiration...
Just like Wasteland was Eliot's dedication to Ezra Pound, the prime source of his inspiration...

The modern penfighter said...

really, really, good...but it's like a collage of many poems...the central thought is lost somewhere in a tangled web of digressions..
After all, a poet looks at the world, the way a man looks at a woman!