Of Our Sun & Soul, Mystified & Molten as Bleeding Beating Origami

 
 
1.  
Reading Nature..amidst misc. roaded politics of home & the homeless  
 
 
 
pandemonium of parrots  
in a skeined murmuration scheme... moves  
over an afternoon summer rains’ mixed up may skies  
screech in maximally amplifying and echoing lucidity  
whilst hurrying back to their inviting raw mangoed  
densely greenery grooved vulnerabilities -their  
 
canopies are Mother Nature’s  
umbrellaed nurture  
in mushrooming silhouettes  
towards the horizon  
whatever scales be the testing  
turbulences She’s also  
causative of    
 
amidst all Her inimitably landscaping  
architectural beauty she’s the creator of...Her  
crunchy amorphous red lateritic pavements  
alongside the eye pluckeringly contrasting  
newly rolled out tarred roads-  
 
(sshh- that’s hastily unwounded  
as a blatant pre-election propaganda  
to glitzy agendas-all gone dramatically cinematic    
in its climaxing emotional canvassing  
of the commons.. blinded by screened fanfares  
not so uncommon these  commonsenseless  
times)  
 
[both of them  
brightening & blooming  
their inherent carried & hidden hues  
to bloodied ochre & broadened nomoonish pupils  
fluttering tenderly graceful as breathing ballerinas  
-their full flown Saranai leaflets rise against  
those ruffianed pitter-pattering harshness  
to a revolutionary blotting mutinous absorbance  
of a violently josssshhhhinnnggg marriage chants  
the Surya~Varuna fusing daring daylight mantras  
hatching out a riotous monsoonal nascence]  
   
-their sketching curvilinearities  
arching & running inner all addressed streets  
draining unto unknown miniscule hamletted tributaries    
as deeply darkening & confabulating palmistry mysteries  
housing never ever heard recorded & unleashed  
realistic characters within & in surrounds  
that's ringing irony..as all the more  
fictitiously surrealistic- Kaliyug  
in the destructional making  
of a null blanking cleanse...  
 
but then the homeless barking dogs  
are dragged in & inner as  
porampoke darking bogs of a fated ignorance  
as even the almost obsolete  
postal-boxes’ signature blaring red painted  
road rollers sheltered in their weekend brakeless breaks  
prove no tents beneath their braggingly displayed body  
-the limping humble black one’s been  
a diligently devouted lifelong companion  
to the resolutely running ahead  
in sexy drenching skins- the beautifully deeply troubled  
feminine form of her canine soul- in all fiercely  
Kali’s battling fairness versus the extemporaneously  
gheraoing reasons & seasons' mobbing masculinities  
in the unquenchingly puckering urges  
erecting as insertionally  
incursive indulgences  
 
 
 
2.  
Poetic Love Eternities Bleed Beat & Breathe, unlike dead(ly) politics & histories  
 
 
beyond the binaries  
of swinging existential extremities  
-an ethereal bridal gasolina  
awaits its compatibly combining  
combustible spirit of an eternity realm  
kindling forevermore the flaming fire within  
unto chaotically dispersing starry igniting sparklets  
falling over the fallen tree souls in the decaying  
yet holding drizzly droplets & sparking lights  
amongst their golden withering branches  
projecting stillmore in a coming alive rebirth  
in a pretty struggling ugliness, trying to imbibe in  
the bleeding red spirits coalescing    
as an ever-damaging heart throb garlanding  
one after one after one…as a serially beating  
infinite One- within its mystified steel folds  
of a fractured yet a molten  
dismantling origami  
orchestrating in the dancing  
plasmic flown moulds  
as our resurrecting Soul & Sun  
 
 
rather than just being a classic  
and an often-cited merely  
an academic's singulated & unsolved case  
of history's high profile assassination- only  
to be planned plucked pressed  
in the premiere pages  
as a sapless two-dimensional  
political herbarium  
to a highly restricted entry  
isolated mausoleum  
 
that’s just left  
to an undying spurious dissections  
as gossiping aloud  
routine rotting pathogenesis  
with stenches of guttered undercurrents  
publicly screened & scoffed at  
disarrayed thoughts  
...yet forcefully mummified  
in fearfully silenced private graveyards