Highlife

High life, high life!
Are you yet another strife?
With just a li’l fight and slight deride
You already begin losing yer pride.

Won’t you hold on for yet another day?
Until I run this gargantuan relay
And take my time to settle this affray
Only to get back to you with my lover fay.

To swim through the shrimps into the night
Adorning the pearls, both heavy and light
Blooming love when the sun is so bright
Forever getting lost in that seraphic flight.

Now you’re taking forever and a day.
And I sit here waiting at the bay,
Watching the stones tumbling down the brae.
High Life , High Life!
Won’t you please stay yet another day?

Clueless

Clueless as I am, clueless as I was
About the things that are ,
And the things that will be.
Flocculating in my head
As the boundary on the other side I cross.

High as I am, high as I was
Reaching for that ‘something new’,
Longing for a perfect view
Hiding in the backyard
Of that choleric shrew.

Filled as I am, filled as I was
Brimming with ardor , like in travail.
The barbs don’t fence my dreams so well
And I feel like losing the perfect trail.

Clueless I sit;
Why my moon waxes and wanes?
Gushing through and through
This music runs through my veins.

Sleepless as I am, sleepless as I was
Watching my songbird flutter away
Chasing for miles and miles
Then letting it stray;
Bring it back!
Pointless to say.

Worried I sit;
Why did I want a different view?
Flipping through the pages
I lived through centuries and ages.
Blank as they were, blank as they are.
I Lost those writings near and far.


Then Trying so hard
Running another yard.
I touch the very verge
And feel the quick sand submerge.
Falling into the Imbroglio at the shore
I still sit clueless as before.

Discovering the White

On any other day,
She’d be Green with jealousy
Then Purple in her own fantasy.
Queenship gloated in her brilliant tiara,
Swaggering in that teal taffeta.


Then she’d be Yellow about her lost love
And Blue for the things undone
Cogitating the 'What ifs'
About those unforgiving edgy cliffs.


The Brown way she could never lead
For those pretty wings could never bleed.
Going all Black about the funerals
And then Picturing the Pink reversals.

But Today wasn’t any other day,
So, she donned her shrug.
Making her way
Through the beetles and the bugs
That stole her star and ripped her rugs.

She walked through the fog
On the wintry night
Into the tranquil woods
Shining , so legendary bright.

Loving all that there was to love,
Discovering the pure,
Discovering the white.
Yes in her thoughts , she was Pure and White.

Freedom.

Squirrel on my window,
Quarrels with my trammelled soul.
Freedom you sense, freedom you sow.
For the world to clap, you'd put on a show.
The circles you run ceaseless,
The circles of covetousness.
Fire in that flesh and fire in that bone.
Freedom of being high,
Freedom to be wretchedly alone.
It's the face of the world,
Or the world in one face?
All petals of the whorl disgrace.
A time to rend, a time to sew.
Breathe in that air and start anew.

The souvenir.

The wind blowing as heavy as a sigh
Like a subdued whisper budges me to fly.
For it’s your day,
They say
You don’t want me to linger.
But I have got the night to remember
Etched in there, like a souvenir.

And it’s your day, they say.
So, I move myself out of your sight.
And Let all the dreams reframe.
Yes, I have lived the night.
Neath those stars, so tranquil and serene.

And now it’s time, I bid “good”bye.
Now’s the time I shall fly.
Away from the ocean, the night, the glistening shrimps.
I so Wish I could catch that “one last glimpse”.

But there’s no more pain.
The sun is bright,
And the clouds drape around, so soft.
While I journey through the skies aloft.
I still see your face in those cottony clouds
And hear those voices dumb aloud.

Then I shut myself from the world outside
Coz the voices seemed to loudly deride.

It’s just my breath and the clock’s tickin’,
I found my soulful peace within.
And I still got that night to remember
Etched in there, like a souvenir.

Cacoethes.

Inundating the drought to sod,
The red sand mixed with sang froid
Oh, the rattling fix that the clay bore
Was all dethawed.
Breaking down the being so vulnerable yet pure.

Who would undo those strands for her now?

Tenacious they are.
But that elysian beauty she marred.
Filling in the gaps between those fingers
The flashes you hindered.

But staring in the dark
How could one decipher that brilliant mark?
That little yes and that little no
Oh, it was the story told by him so.

The politics of the free space,
Filled in with that purple haze.

Black then white then colours with black and white
Flip! Flip! Flip!

Through the galaxy so sublime and deep
She jaunted.
The planet soon will be hit by the meteorite
Yet she felt no contrite.
Yes, the planet she once owned
Will forever be haunted.

Yes,the carapace saved her the scars.
But the planet still charred.
And who knew the flashes will burn her insides
If she ever fell apart.

Shriveling to nihility,
It was her Janus heart.

Dicey and Deuce

Everybody pushed me off that edge to swim against that current. But I was hopeful still, for she swam along. That suddenly I realized I was toiling all alone, while she became a question and eventually out of question. With fatigued limbs I could struggle no more and forfeited.
And the dream broke.
I opened my eyes into absolute darkness just to look into her tapetum lucidum and surprisingly she was staring back, as if she could see through me, read my mind and when every human refused to be humane enough , she sat there sympathizing with me in that darkness, then snuggled so close to me as if assuaging all my worries. Yes, Dicey, the cat. Her green eyes seem to acknowledge every ounce of pain that I’m going through and that wagging seem to play those lines by Coldplay- “ You just want somebody listening to what you say, It doesn’t matter who you are”

And realizing that wagging tail I drift into that rhythmic trance and sleep again.

Then I wake up to that smell of morning glory, and rush downstairs for he waits for me every morning. Deuce, the dog, greets me complainingly because Dicey was privileged to sleep with me and he had to stay away all the while because, of course he couldn’t have intruded her territory. He makes those uncanny noises to vent out his exasperation. But soon he gets over with that woofing and arfing and gestures me to play with him, rolling on the floor and wagging. I scratch his belly and he bares his teeth to give me that wide grin, and I’d confess I haven’t seen a dog smiling like him. He looks like a perfect epitome of joy and love to me when everything else has faded.

Candidly, I’d confess Deuce makes me live through the day while Dicey sings me lullaby at night.
How does it matter if we don’t belong to the same species? Who says they are not human enough?

- The Phoenice