The Vicious Nymph

The Vicious Nymph

I stumbled on your bank
you take hold of my hand
this seems a kind gesture
from a friendly creature
in my trembling seizure
you take utmost pleasure
I can’t smile but complain
yet you fancy my pain

You are a veiled sadist
I’m not a masochist
love is all I wanted
pain is all you granted
I was fit when we met
you put my soul in fret
I’m completely weary
my being is dreary

I thought you are benign
you’re the same as Siren
you tricked me into trap
which is a great mishap
how long will this romp last?
four years swiftly gone past
escape attempts are vain
but what is love with pain?

The Bird with the River Fever

A bird vitalized by anodyne creeps out
of a quilted fabric of elegant style
this bird gaits into a hot water pan
sheds the feathers of yesterday
flap its wings, garbed and hit the road

Flew into the house by the river, drown its liver
in eau de vie. Stagger out of the jacks
with single capezio and keeps the ball rolling
knocked into oblivion by sparkling
lightning and roaring thunderstorm

Its wobbly legs can’t hold the ground
like chopsticks in the noodles bowl
dropped its last quid into the wishing-well
jivin’ in the deep, jammin’ like a villain
in a portal within unending bliss and pain

Adoring the company of the lost
souls with various petrifying heads
as the night progresses, things grey out
its memories of dusk till dawn petered out
the next morn falls into a gentle ruin.

The Parable of a Nation

A child born centuries ago was captured and raised by foreign parents. This child was officially liberated to be independent decades ago after she has been defiled, molested and exploited by her foster parents; while this child was still immature and also malnourished. The said child grew up through pain and suffering in all its forms. She weds and divorces husbands every four or eight years, for that’s the kind of life she was taught to live by her foster parents. So, when one husband treat her better than the previous, she will cry and shed tears of joy that her previous husband never treated her this good. But if another one comes and treat her bad, she will cry again and shed tears of pain and agony, complaining that her ex-husband never treated her this bad. Those who has been chosen to be her crown are nothing but bloodsuckers, they’ve got nothing to offer in making her life better but to steal from her and add to her problems.

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For Life and Death

Can a human be Helichrysum when
Its casing and fillings are mortal dust
An ephemeral in this hedge maze
As the microbes devours within
Carrion insects munches the surface
Psyche turns a convoluted conundrum

Water and mud? Flesh and bone?
A lightning strike in between
Die to live they said
Live then die they argued

Better live in this intricate reality
Than in a fabricated afterlife
Gracefully aging as a fine wine
Ever fresh from the vine
Living the will of the Divine
Hoping the headstone will be fine.

The Mother-Child Problem

An animal made itself special. Imperfectly perfect being
Whose mind is a clouded sky and its soul a dark poetry

Scared of its own shadow. Ignorant of its own birth and death
Asserting to be the sapience but lacks real enlightenment

You’re humiliating the Mother. Damaging her depth and surface
Claiming to be saving her when indeed you’re her by-product

What will be your fate here? Where is the Mother’s faith in you?
How can you save the Mother when she’s indeed self-sufficient

She’s all around you staring with pity. Weeping in vexation
One of the elements maybe unleashed to clear up then restore.

Poet’s Parasol

It persists through the seasons
winter, spring, summer, till autumn
hang on there all the time
dawn, all day long, till dusk

Its parts are incredibly awesome
the thick and thin, the rough and smooth
an imperfectly perfect entity
fully clad in the spring and summer

Transforms into a garter snake
during autumn and winter
shed those lush silky apparel
of ruby and emerald

It remains out there in midwinter
like a naked tent in the Himalayas
that apparel should persist but
this parasol is fated by Nature.

The Seesaw Mind

The Seesaw Mind

Agama blinks and catch a glimpse of a creature
it’s a beautiful charming butterfly
with cute glittering eyes like firefly
the butterfly glows brighter as the night Moon
with astonishing radiance of the Sun
and shine as the Sirius in the night sky
the agama hopes butterfly will fulfil his fantasy
he dived into ecstasy pondering about the ending
knowing many won’t venture into such situation

A déjà vu in a blink of an eye
they were in the French Riviera
he revive from the reverie
they fix gaze he grey out again

Naturally agama has a thing for the butterfly
there is something special about her
his soul was captivated by fixing gaze on her
those firefly eyes fetched his childhood memories
chasing and catching those little glowing creatures
wishing he could have them forever
his mind get consumed by bulging rumination
of mirage, horizon, and the vanishing point
while craving her to experience paradise on earth