thinking of you

it's late afternoon
the scorching sun is cooling down
this slight breeze is flaring my heart
the sound of leaves is pulling me somewhere
far, far, far away...
i am holding you tight in my arms
you are resting your head on my shoulder

i wake up with the sound of a car
shrug up my situation with a smile

and think that...

even if i don't want

i think of you
every time i really can't
i think of you

your dark hair floats like a cloud
on my tanning sky
your moist eyes flicker like stars
lighting my nights
every night when you fall asleep
i think of you

even if i don't have to
i think of you
every time i just shouldn't
i think of you

i think of you
till my thoughts run dry
i think of you
till it makes me cry

i think of you
thinking of me
i think of you
smiling at me

still, thinking of you thinking of me...

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.