Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Poem

The aftertaste of lukewarm coffee
and the looming doom
Tomorrow is a vacant bungalow
on the lake of endless gloom
A variable camouflaged from us
By a hundred spikes of denial
A camera slung on slumped shoulders
The crooked smile of the knowing
An expose for the rascals
And candle lit basilica, with depth
And the way you learn to hedge your bets
With each passing step

There's comfort in knowing that you care
There's lust in the way you long to share
You busy yourself with details
The room is stuffy, dark and bare
And the elephant that broods, in the corner, there
Quarantined in your hope of escape
Of clemency
Of repair

A scientist puzzles
over the invisible,
the unobservable,
The magnetic pull
Copious notes are made,
for posterity: beware!
And the journal of passion
With its wet periodicals,
and juicy scoops,
And love affairs

A flight across the gulf
Will get you, there
A border run
Despite the guards
for those, who dare.
And I simmer, here
Like a coiled spring
Waiting for the sign
the clue, the hint
That the road ahead
is bright, and clear
That all you wished for
is present, here.

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