journey's end

a leaf,
stirred from sensual slumber of youth,
writhing in pneumatic agony
of willowing age
slowed its metabolic rate
to die
in arms of its mother and father,
flowery sisters and tiny bud brothers

the tip curled ever so slightly
and the curl, curled some more
the lush green of its skin
frayed delicately
to a deeper shade
from burnt amber
to flaming red
to fading mellow, yellow
finally to dusty brown

its soft innards
baked crisp
under harsh, hot, ruthless sun
till its brittle stem
couldn't hold itself anymore
and snapped with a soft crackle
to gently float
in a still vacuumed space
and landed face forward
on hard ground
joining scores others
waiting to be crushed
by a tiger's paw
or a deer's hoof
or a swine's snout
or, worse, a human's foot
to complete its journey

lifeline

ageing cells
blistered hands
blocked arteries
graying hair
forgetful mind
creased forehead
bulging waist
empty vaults...
...mean nothing at all
as long as the lifeline is red!

blissful slither

hello
are you listening?

last night i talked,
got stuck in holes and pipes
and got so scared
and worried
bout being stuck forever

the holes are a little difficult to describe
but the pipes,
eh, the pipes,
were like a labyrinth;
a live maze if you like
engulfing everything
that dared came in their way -
intentionally; or as in my case
unfortunately

i recall
a serpentine, bright grey
rod of a pipe
coiling around my ankles
and slithering up

eh.

the cold, sandy feel
of it rubbing and scraping
my skin;
the hair on my neck
stood at attention
ominously

the dragon of the pipe
continued the ascent,
its grip tightening with each inch
its texture harshening with each passing moment

within minutes
i felt a cold fibre-steel arm
around my neck
then
it probed, gently yet firmly
at my mouth

i was numb

but i calmed as the now straw thin pipe
entered my mouth and
a most fragrant,
spiced
full-bodied
aged
wine hit my palate

paradise!

cats and dogs in my head...

last night, this morning actually...
this picture flashed in my head
in a dream...i woke up,
scratched my head and went back to sleep...
voila!
the same image cropped up again,
and again a third time.

it seemed strange to dream
of a dog-king and a cat-queen
in a psychedelic reddish room

a dog-king, with an ivy-leaf green fur
dotted with bottle-green spots

the colour of the cat-queen?
hmmm...i don't really remember accurately
but i presume it must be snow white...

if you know what it might mean, write to me...
otherwise just enjoy a little kitschy piece of art.

dream on, boy!

the little one
had a dream
his first dream; yet;
awake, wide-eyes
puffy wide-eyes
still not focused on reality;
small, sturdy but unstable legs
walking but not on ground, yet; the face,
a mixture of mixed feelings
about this strange, new phenomenon -
a dream -
what was that?
where was that?

"in the night,"
he beamed with pride and confusion,
"i inside water.
i cry,
yudhi cry inside water."

i looked fascinated
what a new feeling must it be
for such a little person
already an individual
slipping out of our hands
like smooth indonesean sand.

another child somewhere not so far away
must have had his first dream too...
of a cup of drinking water
of a mother's bosom
of a bowl brimming with fat grains of rice
of a sugar-coated almonds
of crème brulèe

i wish for each child to learn to dream
of good things
of desires that unfulfilled
because of reasons that need not be explained
even if momentary,
a subconscious thought brings happiness
transient or not

three cheers to a morsel of joy, then!

sleep, baby, sleep

soft wisps of hair
lie anguished at fingertips

strands, and strands
obscure the beautiful face

the bosom,
up heaving with slow, breaths of sleep,
stands guard to her heart

delicate nose,
flares, ever so slightly

full lips part,
like dried petals of a rose

lovely mouth drips
drops of nectar in this deep doze

chin curves upwards and then
downwards, following my gaze
slender neck lies unmoving
as if in some anticipation

a tender thigh
protrudes from the crumbled sheets
picture perfect, that's how you sleep
my darling! soundly, and yet awaking the instant
Sid slides even slightly.

what lies beneath...

truth is suspended from
a sheath of lies
disgruntled, maligned, humbled...
but the truth of the lie is
that it is these lies that make,
disagree if you so desire,
the world a better place

if the truth be told:
how many politicians will be wiped off?
how many social workers will be behind the bars?
how many police officers will be suspended?
how many adult relatives will be sentenced?
how many fathers will weep?
how many mothers will cry?
how many bosses will flare?
how many employees will cringe?
how many friends will frown?
how many spouses will be shamed?
how many children will worry?
how many soldiers will die?
how many coffins will be filled?
how many hearts will crash?
how many files will be deleted?
how many kisses will stall?
how many rubbers will lie unrolled?
how many papers will be crumpled?
how many breads will be thrown?
how many beers will be consumed?
how many cups will spill?
how many beans will sprout?
how many tigers will roam free?
how many of us will not smile...