The birth of a poem...

The essence of very tiny detail, like a carefully placed comma, or an invisible sigh of admiration, distilled into dewdrops sliding over the long green leaves that protect tulips from overexposure, redeeming the beautiful bold color and adding a dimension of its own.

Then letting it go into thin air, like a weightless particle,arriving in far-away places, like a carefully thought-out idea, a blissful singular event, a flash of infinitesimal brightness, arriving at noon, completely negating shadows and at the same time completely absolving them.

The reign of calm arrived with these words and it is here to stay...



Friday, January 13, 2017

Illusion

Soft light seeping through the dark blue sieve
The illusion of a starry sky above.
Sweet honey dripping on your lips
A forgotten kiss, wistful craving for love.
Stay within the role, recite the well-known lines
Go through the motions of everything being fine.
Step out of the stage, into unscripted territory of raw fear
"Here be dragons" on the edge, no spotlight, the end is near.
Unraveling the mask at the first break of dawn
The reproach of the new day, skin battered and torn.
The soul's battle's lost. Bruises you cannot excuse.
Distant sirens keep you awake.
Help you cannot refuse.
The snow covers all signs of commotion.
The illusion of order is restored.
Curtain call. Applause.
The hungry masses will be back for more.
Some other actor will play out the great
Anguish of the long lost kiss
The indigo canvas will simulate the sky
Some onlookers will wonder why
There isn't any more comedy or bliss.
The critics will write their reviews
Truth and beauty chasing blips
On the monitor of vital signs
Right up to the flat line.
What else is new?

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