Friday, September 28, 2012


The sincere and the cynic
were trapped in the same boat
flung into nowhere waters
into a primordial time of no rules
The ground beneath their feet
was a curious sensation
of solid and shaky
such that they never before had felt
At least not where no land was in sight

No warmth from the bodies
of men or concrete
No passion to possess
Nothing to hate
No albatross to confess
Were they alive?
They had each other to confirm

Yet apparitions of ‘the other’ within
were beginning to usurp the throne of the ‘self’
pelting the weakened walls with stones
The peremptory waves now jolting the boat
like war drones or revolution song

“I have heard tales
of your heart that swells
with the might of what they call
the ‘human spirit’
Your will, indomitable, can it not cut
through the sea, the beyond of beyond?”

“What would I not have given
to have you ask this of me
when home was still nigh
I would have verily walked on water
But these are not waters
in the company of soil - compromised, simulacra
Nah! what you see
is elemental fury
the eternal agony
of nothingness
What do I know of nothingness?”

Through the rising mists of climax
the zap of lightning between them
looked like an umblical cord
Was it destroying one
to create the other?
Did it transfer matter?
Energy? Souls? Destinies?
Subject to the laws of thermodynamics?
Never may that be known
for the haze was coalescing
into a blurring film of water
into beads of sweat
freshly soaking the bed
still dank from what?
The sincere slept on
one storm was over

While the city was rising
to another mundane morning
making the usual noises
of beginning again
The cynic rose, drew the curtains apart
It was business as usual
an unusual night

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