Fear

Staring into nothing,
At a pathway unresolved
My thoughts were clouded,
All one thousand and one of them
That I couldn't pen
That I couldn't give tongue to
But they kept running through my mind
Making passes, leaving notes
And this, I said, is due to fear
The fear that overpowered
And shuts me down
The fear of the unknown
Of life and of death
The fear that sends me floating
In a dark space
I gripped tight, the rope
Trying not to drift off into darkness
But now, in another dimension
A destiny I couldn't escape
Looking into the life I left drowning
In dirty waters
The one that went deaf on ears
Seized by nerves
And destroyed by toxic thoughts
I asked herself again,
"Exactly what was it that I feared?"
A shadow appeared,
My own shadow...
"You feared ME."

-PRK-

Dovetail Narration

He looked at me from across the room
Undressing me with his eyes
He put down the book he was reading
Snow by Orhan Pamuk
"A good book," he said. "Of political religions."
"Religious girls weren't allowed to wear their head scarves for some reason."

I looked into his almond-shaped eyes and dove deep
"Is he a broken soul?" I asked myself
Smokey brown eyes, deep, tormented yet playful
I was impressed by his choice of literature
From point A to point B, he came close
Inch by inch we get closer, spelling each other's significance
Our eyes met and I looked at his face
My breathing pattern changed

I touched his face
Weather-beaten, almost perfectly symmetrical face
He pulled me close and our noses met
I brushed my cheeks against his
The gritty stubble he left growing over the weekend tickled me

His lips, broad and thick,
A chain smoker, sort of parched
Yet so desirable
I kissed it, it was tender and soft
He then looked me in the eyes
He smirked with his eyes gleaming
As if his retinas were painted with only solace; no delinquency

And I could read him like a book
And immediately understood his pathways
The purpose of his visits
The meaning of his touches
The essence of his voice
I know them all, but I kept my thoughts to myself
I questioned none, nor am I about to question any

His heavy breath down my neck spells lust
And he caressed my chest
As if looking for something he had lost in a black hole
Slowly he undid the top button of my blouse
One hand going across my abdominal parts
The other gripping my hand tight
As if tightening a scouting knot
The words on my lips hailed by storm

And my heart skipped a beat
When he politely took off my blouse
"Hmm.. Laces," he said, with a mischievous look in his eyes
He kissed me again, heavily this time
The scent of his mouth and the taste of his lips
Just the same as I remember them

So was the warmth of his touch
The kind that sends shiver down my spine
And I squirmed as if having seizure
Hypnotised and devoured by emotion, I took off his shirt
And like memorised verses, he laid me down
He studied my body as I admire his

His shadow grazed over my smooth skin
His fingers, his eager hands, his palm
So calloused, yet so smooth
His collarbone and arms, tattooed
Of theological imagery and picturesque emblem of spirituality

I know this - I'm not special to him
But a quarter to 5, I turned to my left
His face close to mine; a face with cryptogram printed on it
His heavy breathing, his heartbeat

And my dawn arose with him next to me
A chiselled body covered with holy visages
Except for a patch closer to the molten core of his being
Camouflaged by occult imagery reflecting a prognostic of nihilism
An organ that is destined to stop
A beautiful art I cannot resist nor call my own

-PRK-

Black Hole Romance

Many risked so much to signs, alarmed and amused
I was walking on many paths, mainly the ones not taken
But all paths eventually lead directly to a singularity
Of which I cannot escape from, of which I can never move directly away from
And then I tried and kept trying, I was running away
Running away from many things, from gloomy evenings
A constant presence of dashing desires, hoping to discover a portal to another dimension
To a miraculous place away from angular discomfort
From political religions, from injustice done to believers
Running away from myself, from the turmoils inside me
From memories, I couldn't dredge, from thoughts they admonished
From the discotheques of deceit, from the terrible tidal that forces me
That unravels my body into streams of atoms of hate of unconditional destruction
I wanted to disappear, I needed to escape
I needed to withdraw from the race the painful ordeals
But to my face, they say, halfway down the slope of hope
There’s nothing on the other side, but disassembly and death

A black hole, so mystifying, romanticising our last breath 

-PRK-

A Man for a Woman

She seem serene, almost cheerful
And beneath the drape,
She is intolerably pornographic
Incomparable to the many prodigies
Of the female gender
To the painting and sculpture
Of a perfect figure - the modern Aphrodite

Her uncompromising intelligence
Is beyond the average valve
Of knowledge of many commoners
And her unfathomable brilliance
Often applaud by the royalties
And the likes of Athena

But often as the sun sets
And as the ocean breeze slows down
Becoming colder by the second
She would wander
Wanting to fade into the horizon
To leave the column of thick smoke
That spreads only gloom and sorrow
And the reverberating deviltry
Penetrating every abandoned soul

So melancholic and she is at bay
Trapped in the social stigmatisation
Of the nameless physical desire
Of essential strangers
Those who admire one that is both
A gift and a curse to her

But beneath her skin, she sees scars, she feels cuts
Bites of ants, stings of bees
Bruises from her struggles with identity
The romantic hypocrisy
And the disciplines of love, trust, faith and romance

And in the nightfall, only he could hear her cry
Sometimes tender, sometimes in agony
At times her cries sounds like
A navigated symphony
With no sense of pitch
And feels like a personal visit to an inferno

Her somber frequencies are no merriment to him
But the diminutive chime of her solitude
Her exhausted somnolence
Narrowed pedestal and
And her eagerness to be freed
To escape the fence of pentameter
Is ironically a Gospel music to his ear

Such is a particular gift of the bringer of dawn
The emissary of broken souls
Of defeated conquering heroes
Of bewitching beasts
Blinding them with his superficial charm

Such is the power of Lucifer
Engendering heartsease in her drama
An emotional parasite
A puppeteer inciting guilt 

Such is a strong power play
Between the giver and the taker
The sadistic and masochistic
The familiar inner voice
The silent killer that exists within you
And I

-PRK-

Past Perfect

I used to be dirt poor
I didn't need to go to the well for water
But there were hardships
That led to depression
I remember I laughed a lot
And shut myself from the world later
But I'd rose from all my falls
I'd slip and roll but I'd get back up
It was like solving crossword puzzle
Pointlessly in the dark
Sometimes I'd reach into my pockets
Only to take out the few bucks I have
To survive, to make it through each day
But we all have that past
And that past is meant to guide you
Not define you
Because we all used to be dirt poor
But not our faith and kindness

-PRK-