deepundergroundpoetry.com
O-M-G
I walk across the high walls
on the road teeming with masses of men-
stopping-stooping-stoic
all propelled by a want and assembled
at the origin-the very creator [The Gods]
chips of blinking things-shrouds of wrapped pastel
Idols
Pills
Bread
Red wine (Blood)
White wine (Urine)
Father-son and
the Holy Spirit
Endless expanse of silk
doused in purple fumes
A hundred eyes unblinking
a hundred simultaneous prayers
mutterings of the hopeful [Devotee]
Prostrate
Fallen
Lost
Disillusioned
Believers
Seekers
Awaiting apocalypse [Closure]
And the ambiance leaves no place
for ambiguity
The high walls adorned by the fresco-
dazzling, surreal
A thousand burning candles in all their glory
A thousand incense sticks emanating tendrils
of holy smoke
A Zen capsule
with chi at equilibrium
The elements
all-at-tandem
The crescendo
the flailing arms
and gushing tears
the wooden boxes
with the cloaked stranger
the conch shells and
oscillating urn
hyperventilated
exhilarated
euphoric
enchanted
They have found
at last and are bound to
every time
I am just
the recurrent aberration
the constant face
at every rendezvous
My head wrapped or
my palm outstretched
or my mouth busy
with words, wine
or wonderful ambrosia
served for the mass
I am just a faceless-nameless entity
in their eyes in HIS eye too
Like he is in my eye
The shrine-the deity-the straight swastika-the cross
the tranquil sage or the fire-just more in a world
of symbols-cryptic codes and anthropomorphic entities
The bigger problem for all their problems
the higher truth for all their truth
the worst lie for all their misinterpretation
Unfathomable
Omnipresent
Omniscient
'Wherever you go
The network follows'
Count the blessings
calculate your grievances
and submit your form
at the formless
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