To S.

Strike n. 1, failure smells bad, it tastes dry,
So no happy endings, since she never learnt
To dwell in hidden halls, high stairs,
The depths of her mind, those thudding howls
Hounding the last shards of night,
Wretched sounds against forsaken oases,
Maybe life-
But they never listen to roaming clouds, do they,
So, just make do with scant lights,
The stares from God, yes, as night’s looming,
And high time to switch the stars on,
While green and impervious thoughts are coming up
In starving souls, ready to fire up haze
All over an ice-blue spot great for hiding, the sky-
Anything else? First, no stargazing, just a waste of time,
And no scraping the depth of your soul-
Light, my light, bit of a rowdy, are we,
Always teasing  the sky, playing hide-and-seek
With clouds ’n’ souls-
But don’t ask for the depth, if God’s looming
Over your soul, that shrinking lady vainly asking
What’s love up to, and why he hangs out
With a life ridden with so many friends-
Mark my words, she’ll dump him-
And now, folks, hurry up, closing time, or demise?
Sorry, not yet, as long as lonely candles scream
For light, and all your lovers wolf down your seed,
A world of fancy light on loan, or uncalled-for,
Irredeemable births.

*******

To B., Y., P.

And this be my prayer, when nights get darker
In her deep blue, when souls keep retching,
Magenta foods, maybe blood, when seasons go
High ‘n’ hungry, so let ‘em play havoc
All over a sky where so many stars are curtseying to God-
Who cares if her soul is one of them, who knows
If a scent of wild flowers slips out from the heavenly vault-
You calling, God, know what, wrath ’n’ riots,
Were the first stars her soul lit, her soul who can’t
Gorge on clouds ‘n’ waves when she feels like Odysseus,
So dizzy among boulders, moons, empty stares stalking
God, maybe treasons or deceit-
Look, in them days we had a monochrome blue,
The sea, of course, schoolgirls in summer floral frocks,
Even the darkest stains of wrath, angst,
Just like some abstract paintings,
And skips hidden all over her soul-
Listen, in them days they were scolding pets ‘n’ kiddos,
The idle strollers at a seaside resort,
And no mercy at all for souls starving for a light,
Any light, while her soul was striving to grab clouds,
Snatch waves, if they set out to hound her innards-
So, my light, my friend, don’t run among the waves,
And you, my time, my friend, don’t run among the clouds,
If waves and clouds hang back when you’re being stalked
Among dirty diapers, or stained souls-
Families, anyone?
Beware, teens grin and shout at mind-blowing blasts,
While water keeps sweet company to the moon staring
At those rowdy waves and some ghastly food they crunch-
Maybe a bit of dew, empty stares,
Still lives, still trees on the hills,
Got me to learn how to ghost beggars, starving souls,
You know, I let evil slip in, slide by me,
Nonchalantly, almost caressingly,
A smooth, rich voice like a crystal cut trinket,
Against a light ready to hoard tricky matters,
Shattered bones, maybe souls.

*******

To M., W.

Thank God they dart away so fast,
Winter, his days, his time,
So, not a big deal if they wander around
By leaps and sudden bounds,
Along with petty thefts, the sky’s gimmicks for survival-
Soul, what a daring project you are
For a light bound to give them shelter
When the heavenly vault tries to gloss over her,
In her deceiving dream that the moon cares for you,
Or clouds hide away from gusts of gales,
While your soul is breathing, all by herself in the dark, Impervious to cold, as she’s only too aware
Old wives’ tales shine, but no use
When branches fall down out of the blue,
And no problems, they say, as the tree’s got
So many branches, and so many trees lie in the wood,
Father,you made-
But no use when the sky scatters clouds,
Or her night is hurting the sky-
And no problems, they say, if you lose your place,
If your soul digs into you, or wakes up in shambles,
As desire falls upon her sometimes like a leaf,
Sometimes like a boulder-
Oh, and where is the end she asked
From you as a gift, Father, beware,
Her soul doesn’t kid herself she is
A most welcome guest, unlike branches, clouds, the sky
In those nights turning out
As the weirdest revenge of your seed,
While she’s acting Sisyphus right now, isn’t she,
Her days boulders she can’t get rid of anytime soon.