Spider #2

Back in my home, we have spider called Osama
His web of terror spun wildly dangerously
The hills have eyes, and so does the bathroom
Lurk behind the faucet,
pairs of eyes set the bathroom shrieking

Thank God our home is blessed with Mama
Her broom and dustbin spun equally dangerously
Indomitable storm, she swept room to room
Spider thrives on bed unmade,
thus the terror ended, under bed sized king
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Spider

He who know fear know much of spider:
eight legged terror of a creature.

Few brave men swat them with newspaper.
Of those, we never hear anymore.

Tremble, for even our body is bigger,
legs and eyes they have more.
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Addicted #1

I used to see lightning forks, I
I used to see darkness weep
Weep with the smoke of useless sleep

A ghost of lightning, its brightness
Brightness pale, light, soulless
Soulless sound: not lightning, thunder

To me, my army is the loneliest
Loneliest people, at war with ghosts
Ghosts, their skeleton reflections

To my God: I will not weep
Weep with sinful tears, sinful
For ghosts should be burnt. Burn!
Skeleton: minion of dust
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Night Beats With a Pulse

night beats with a pulse
a breath held in tongue
murmured, not spoken

in this halogenous light
a wrist think of suicide
but the knife slit only dust

the wrist has left the man
with the sound of dripping water
dust brings only tears
in the eye of another

night beats with a pulse
a dripping red feeding dawn
who slit night’s dustly wrist
lay it on morning’s feet
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Slow Effacement

I feel like a tree
with grafted rings:
years of longing

Salt in my branches
tears I cannot wept:
leaves the wind have swept

Now I know why
the trees stooped, shy

Rain that was clouds:
memories that was you
I lick I caress I do

It is bowing to time
while to heaven it climbs
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Mother

I walked and it’s raining
cold, deep cold, shaking.
A bowl dripping fire, moon
a face and soup in spoon.
Mother, mother
I cry, I miss you.

I go to dark places
kneel down, always.
I pray o God I pray
no harm would go her way.
A smile she once had,
go, son. Go. She said

A mist of sin, life.
My head, Your hand, knife.
Blade straight steel true,
pieces of me she glue.
Rise, rise she said
prayer, she kiss my head

Now, life just passed
she’s old, I lasted
Skin sagged eyes bad,
smile, smile she said
Live son, live true.
Mother, mother, thank you
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Sore Throat

Shoot, the shamans and doctors tell me
Pineapple juice and orange misery
No, not a single drop of draught
Comes easily on my burning throat

Swallower of sword, swallower of fire
Needle I drink, and barbed wire
Steamed rice tasted of mice
Gulps of air, a spider’s lair

Here, sit with me, antibiotics
Green and white: analgesics
Sleep, sleep, I stumble I sleep
Dream, I dream of mutant sheep

Get the ambulance, get the priest
Where’s my casket? Here it is
In my tombstone please engrave:
“Here lies a sore throat can’t save”
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Cubicle Heaven

Cubicle heaven
Life and type and type and life
Notes, memos, cardholder lifeholder
Will it be heaven or hell
Minutes of meeting tell

Tweak, squeak, speak, trick
Spineless mindless drones
Yes Sir! no Sir, okay Sir!
You and You only
A thousand times over

you? You’re no Director
Hardworking EO no CEO
Speak your mind to the wall!
Ideas and thoughts to the closet stall!

Cubicle heaven
and the Fire Demon
Whips and lash smile flash
Sheep and lamb: goulash
All you need just tie
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I Hear Water Dreaming

(1)
I hear water dreaming
Still, clear, sharp
Wash you with blood, its life
Moon is only reflection
Your life just dream
Just water passing

(2)
I hear water dreaming
In its eyes closed:
you in many reflections
My soul, the water drinks
Flying on your surface
My back to the moon

(3)
I hear water dreaming
A calling
To live’s to drown
My back to life and job and home
Knee deep, lungs asleep
To me, to me
Cold, kissed

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Another One to Remind Me Everyday

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