rarefied air


Tuesday, March 30, 2010


You ask me to turn my face
So that you may see its contours
Photographed in your mind as they are
From the time you created these fears
The sharp nose, plunging down to eternity
Reassures you and you smile with security
Of the knowledge that I am the one I pretend to be
You serve me with your love and prosperity

But some day you will forget my face
As today you did my name
Some day I will not be able to convince you
That I am the one you seek to trace
There will come a day when you will yearn to talk to me
When all the time I will be in front of you
But you will refuse me, treat me with disdain
Call me a cheat and perhaps slap me for the deceitful strain

When you are clearer in the head I tell you this
You promise to try and remember me
You say you cannot guarantee
But you will try to recall me
It reassures me, soothes me little
My compounded fears run amok unabated near
I persevere to get the best of the moment
That is real, within my reach and without any tear

I cuddle I caress I touch your skin
To imprint my touch and seal the connection with you forever
If not my face, nor my name seem familiar to you
Place my face next to yours in the mirror

My precious you test me, ask me questions again and again
And then you yourself pronounce the indictment
That I pretend to be who I am not
That I am a planted seed in the garden of rot

It happens again and again like a recurring nightmare
It digs under my skin
Makes me bleed copious tears
I tear up my dreams
And offer them to you as sacrifice
I pray after an eternity to Him
And beg for your peace and calm
He mocks me calls me a fool
Says in denying me you have given me legitimacy
I ignore the sarcasm
Continue to prepare for your peaceful sleep
I pray to the pillow even to be silent
Not disturb your dreamless repose
But it sings a new song each night
Follows you like a stream of dirty water
Captures you in its clawed grip
Makes you go insane
I fight it erase it every morning
Clean the bucket, throw it outside in disgrace
But how long? How long will we sing this song?
How long?
What else can I do, to redeem you bring you back to me?
Teach me, I will adopt the strategy
Let eternity come and go and yet I will remain
Devoted to you, I am prepared to go insane.

i am sick of the world
i am sick of the weeds
i am sick of the adulterous lives we lead

i am sick of the sly
i am sick of the games
i am sick of the days you spend with the dames

i am sick of the loneliness
i am sick of the cries
i am sick of the aimless time that flies
i am sick of the darkness
i am sick of the crimes
i am sick of the nights i spend with you artless

i am sick of your orders
i am sick of not being ordered around
i am sick of your attention
i am also sick of you not being around

i am sick of the job
i am sick of sitting idle
i am sick of being homeless
i am sick of the t'waddle

i am sick of the travel
i am sick of the train
i am sick of the journey
always being the same

i am sick of myself and
i am sick of you
i am sick of everything
that you pretend to do

The Smile

Direction-less i spend my days
in rituals, dreams and spiritless ways
waiting for i do not know what
my sad eyes keep constant watch
Perhaps waiting for the agony to end
perhaps for the super man to descend
perhaps for the music to play
that would make me sway,
and awaken
the laughter that has hollowed inside
The smile that is so still
So still it is, in it's pretense
Oh! it almost makes me cry
It hangs there loose
as if on a noose
so erect and yet so pale
like the recital of a gallows's tale

The djinn revisits

it just pains me to know that we cannot communicate any more
....why oh why must we talk through the door?
when there are no hidden lies
and no truths to be put to question,
what have we to loose,
if not our pretensions...
come talk to me
....talk to me as a friend
....lets find new meaning
....for this old steadied end....
is it me?
or is it you?
or is it our combined suffering
that keeps us mute
...keeps us from talking/ being sane
....keeps us alive
...but yet defamed
breathe a new life
....sing a new song
....if not for you or me
....for the days gone wrong...
yes it pains me
...it pains me still
....to not be able to speak to you
....despite the old djinn
because djinn was who he was
....and genie with her bane
....and a wonderful play had been enacted
....as the worthless came to be slained
...encore encore they shouted!
and burst through their skins!
come! take me yonder!
let me escape from this spin!
the spindle of the tale
...that you have been weaving
....and i have been holding
...the spool of the shame...
is going round and round
without direction or taste
and creating a shadow
that will be hard to replace
whether you like it or not
whether you want it or not
there will be no end
no end to take you home ever again
this is your bane
and mine too if you please
the darkness is for ever more
replete and complete