Pain, it’s imitation, seems to be in nature of crown
a spire, a halo, here not simply to grace or embellish
but to express, to symbolize, only a measure of
how narrow and cloistered my life has become
a hackneyed conception of self and yet enthralling,
with whom I can share the failure of the moment
and in whose rejection, I annihilate my own…

****

Disclaimers/Denials/Footnotes/Blah (ONLY FOR NON-REGULAR VISITORS)

1 : - Image source : deviant art.

2 :- It is a creative piece, if you can't make head or tail out of it, do not ask me. I am as clueless as you.

3: If it makes sense to you, well and good, your nice comments make my day, if it doesn't, say so with conviction, any non-personal criticism is more than welcome.

4 :- If you are here to give sermons, kindly spare me. There is no dearth of bloggers seeking an agony-aunt/uncle but this is NOT your place.

5 :All abusive, personal, sermonizing, suggestive comments shall be deleted PRONTO without being acknowledged.

6 :- If you like what you are reading, do come back, I'll be thankful. If you don't, there are better writers on this iLand and we can do without each other. (I need not elaborate further/ refer to #4)

7 :- Aforesaid applies to ALL my previous and future scribblings.

Thanks for bearing with me.

Do you sleep that sleep
of conjugal indifference
as you were drawn toward
that luminous intemperance
where life is a peaceful act
spent in the close-packed
shelter of matrimony?

Are you content
In this austere beauty
In these primal sensations
of colorless well-being
as you’ve swallowed
the last noxious draught
of what they had termed
a filial responsibility?

Or you still retain
in its ineffable hue
A background azure
of intenser memories
the grotesque visions
from love-affair absolved
of marital contingency?

For wisdom my friend
though you pretend
can no further extend
than this first heaven
and from there on
everything is lust -
masquerading as divinity.

I can solely offer
my bare self
for here at least
life beats, as it is –
not brave and garlanded
but naked and grovelling
diseased and dragging
yet lifting its head
to whiff infinity.


PS :- I'd written this poem in June 2007.  Some people had been asking me to post my old poems that I'd deleted .. though I hadn't posted this one here before.. thought of posting this coz it is one of my personal favorite.

i)

Do not exhort me
to get on with
what you call -
my fucking life
I am sick of
just about
everything
except existing.

 
I wasn’t
seeking
a safe harbor
or allegiance
all I wanted -
was your simple
compliance.


 ii)

Playing hopscotch
at death’s door
sniffing back
old miseries -
I go on waiting
for those
caverns of
comatose sleep.

In the very spasm
like misfired
orgasm
it seems to be
coming continually
though indubitably -
never comes.