Voyages and Anchors away

There is a small part of me who would love to revel in the comfort of the familiarity that the past 5 years on blogger has instilled within me- but i’ll resist sentimentality for once. Goodbye blogger and hello wordpress. (: I’ll have my posts transferred by 2017.

  • Poetry
  • Any topics which come to mind
  • Book reviews
  • The occasional prose ‘one shots’
  • The occasional film and musical review

What might become of this

Is it worth it?

Blundering along the wayward track where streams run dry

The relentless pounding tears rickety tracks apart
Wrenching fragile tendons from their sockets
The palette lingers, drawn straight out from the gut,
Lying limp in fractured ghastly messes
Limbs dangle loosely from their sore hinges
Spilling out from the cold asylum
Gallons of bitter seams roar, echoing rapid undercurrents
Too many violent emotions within

Desensitized to stimuli

I’ve always been unfeeling
As unfeeling as can be
I’ve transcended the depths of emotionless
As unfeeling as can be
Frostbites ripping vulnerability to pieces
Shredding the taut epidermis now
Still I am As unfeeling as can be

Wrangling over cemented declarations
They said I’ve lost my mind
In a state, an elaborate sanctuary
And a banquet of opportunities

It has always been secondary
This foreign lingo: Hear, Taste, Touch, Smell and See
‘Senses’ held captive, in a realm where they fly the flag of liberty
I’ve noticed how many have ostensibly
Welded ‘senses’ with the organ at the heart of the oak tree
It has left me confuzzled and doubtful

But crafted..
Then… in favor of..
Well…
Who might it be?
Amidst all these rambling thoughts
Silenced, by ‘Hush. Petulant child.’

Do you see, the fire and brimstone

Rusty dew crystallized by clouds of grey vapor
Stinging the gentle flesh till it hardens
Spiralling through an empty gut
before it finds a place-

Lodged within a twisted abyss of crimson

Convulsions pummeled by grotesque heaves
Choking throbs

I see them chiseling at the monstrous might
Of a hardened stone
Rivers of love, relentless pleas,

Fervent in their decries
Sullen, quiet futility
Bleeds into the silence
They couldn’t thaw the reams of morphine
Who hath done their nefarious bidding
Antipathy caving in
Frozen in deafening discordance

Hardened stone
Cold peaks that never sparkle
The glaciers that never melt
It blazes in the sultry heat

And it burns and burns
From the inside out
To its own end
Ashes

Knowing

Knowing

Knots
Dead knots
Frayed ends still crisp from damp tear gas
The fragility they’ve bound
The wounds they’ve lashed
into the flesh, gnawed
ripped open to bear

Now dead ends remain taut in obstinate
Born into the world- of human touch-
iron clamps dripping with vile blackness
barbs to ruins
– i need to- find-

Bitterest gall softened by silence
A revelation- entrenched in a maddness born of a
disillusionment of my own
my madness
my revelation- raw with euphoria
So fragile, so sweet
I’ve seen, weep for me
And I, for this transcendent treasure
so human

Fervently i’ve prayed
enraptured by a thousand spells-
of this that i’ve yearned to know
Human

Means to an end

Bore out of a stream of consciousness

Evaporated streaks of black

That wallowed in the bleakness of their existence

Flutter behind the dreadful mirror

I traced the faint carvings, scratches and inconspicuous verse that imprinted themselves on

pixelated crystals

Jagged lines that raced across the blank canvas without their guides

Delivered in the form of convoluted diction that continues to pierce the hearts of the few

Who yearn, still, to decipher,

Solve and tug at the frayed ends of a riddle?

My man made mess-

Is a means to an end

Ignominy

Howling roosters, crooked spines
Soft whispers trickle into gulfs in rapid fires
Brushing against the rusty enclosure
Where sawdust pelts the broken vessles
Surging the wrath of screaming colors
This scarlet A that strides in with pride
Making a nest to shrivel where
Till then we pray for the revitalizing change
Heads bowed, in gowns of shame
Stars of ignominy cast our name in crippled illegibility
Enmeshed cries cling onto the dreary tenderness of comfort
And the deadly spell of regression
To be abandoned
The acrimony of a tainted past that might be obliterated
For renewal and grace

Now we stand strong

This poem will always hit close to home. It might not be one of my best works, others might not even call it poetry- but the story is transcendent.

I might be on a roll with writing again, I’m not too sure. I finally managed to channel my sentiments through this piece; it definitely might not be one of my best work, but it is one of the rawest pieces.

Maybe, just maybe
This is what it is supposed to be
to channel the core of your existence
for the sake of someone, too precious
Poetry that glows in second sight
Binds us through the years of light

And now, for every ounce you’ve poured out,
it baffles me still
The way our tale seemed to almost
unravel, in a catastrophic mess.
That night.

Bitter tendrils hurled themselves towards a frame of fragility,
I had spent months chiseling with diamonds and gold
But that too, eroded.
The harshness spiraled through the ghastly din
and there I felt trembling,
Quivering
That drew back its fangs
Piercing glares that bore into my soul
Brandishing blades
Into the heart that pounded for me
It hurt

The walls that you built to protect me
These 17 years of toiling
The silence that screamed into the noise
For the first time
I didn’t tremble alone
And I couldn’t allow you to, either.

I knew what I couldn’t deny
So I spoke that which I knew
There has never been a barricade between us,
And i know that there never will be
Because your presence is transcendent
As with every bit that you’ve lavished on me.

Maybe its time to tear down those walls
Victory never stood with the other
And now, we bear the brunt
Gaping wounds that will continue to bleed,
for as long as it seems sound
but
Beings with second sight can, too
Be peacemakers
We might abandon our vessels,
Now we stand strong.

Once upon a time

For twelve plus three, it seems
Crippled by the haunting vices
Locked away in the vault that housed the cauldron
Where toxins billow shades of indigo
Beasts of monstrosity bare scarlet fangs
Sinking rusty knives into the blinding depths of altruism
Plunging jagged edges as far as they might go
The pulses softened and slowed
The beating drowned out by the shrill scream of a pale figure
Hooded, to mask a fragile frame
A mess of blackened blood  pulsates through brown capillaries
Rancid streams of agony turned into unfeeling animosity
Carving a hollow husk of ignorance to pour harsh pestilence
Red tinged gazes, unblinking scrutiny
Smite the foe, spare the rod
Long consonants thread the fine line
Streams in the hour glass- run dry
Monstrosity craves the eke of your existence
Your presence alone- the bane of its existence
He who dwells in vulnerability,
Feasting on scalding bowls of agony
A sinner casts her weary eyes
Hoarse cries and muffled melancholic cries to the heavens
A lift on the scaffold of shame
In the name of love
Pronounced my name

Frostbite in the Ice Age

Inimitable rattling within the brittle jar
Restless pounding of icy cold fists that suffer
Burned from the pounding
Shriveled scabs from ancient frost bites
Shivering at the wrath of the fear turned monstrosity
The seal of retribution for
Compassion and vulnerability
Solitude and the guise of maturity, or lack there of

They cry for silence as the ticker-tape unravels its ends
Observing with the rawness that fills their darkened blood
The crimson brews and slips away
In the name of inhaling fortitude into the core of their being
Repudiating the jarring hisses and the toxic scars
Still, they watch from the hollow sockets
Praying for their paltry human capacity to languish
For solipsistic visions to dwindle into sinner’s night
Braving themselves for the battles when
Corroded ends give into friction
As the gawp at the emptiness and all that’s left of their product
Fortitude