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Image for the poem Unto The Quantized Mystical Awakening of You, i (re)form anew.. as

Unto The Quantized Mystical Awakening of You, i (re)form anew.. as 'our' infinite abubble

 
 
 

 
 
there are some grim reality documentary,  in poetry too:
this is perhap a need for Parthenium hysterophorus neglected  
issue in a shout out (google the plant for more shocking details)  
 
the noxious partheniums are everywhere here.. invasive  
a planted biowarfare? spread unchecked so widespread  
like a staple.  
 
the so common people think no more than it’s simply  
an ubiquitous weed.  and as a native one too. pathetic!  
 
hmm. pretty anything conveniently comfortable goes  
with them. especially whatever it takes to keep them  
lazily as unquestioned kings. and queens. of an already  
scrapped no man's land.  
 
 
 & their appetite for sensationalism is as vigorous  
as their pitiable ‘public memory” which is not more  
than a day or two or so ..in strained retention of  
anything.. except perhaps the now viral corona
 
the public amnesia
crowning them with a suicidal curse to whole of their  
species .  Homo (un)sapience

 
 
 
 
the same omnipresent partheniums .... with their  
off-whitish torch~ headed buds of prolific populace  
  ..held like a terrorist bouquet in disguise of tiny  
serial~ lighted fluorescent bulbs.. tears the deepwell  
dark nights as buzzing nostalgic yet a bombing nuclear  
headachy world war 2 newsreel’s graininess sepoys  
of mutiny in a guerrilla warring tactic ... jumping into  
the fore from nowhere & then randomly dancing  
for a glancing blink..  only to quizzically disappear  
into the same realms of nowhere perhaps…  
 
for now as I see them.. they siege the grounds  
& the inner walls of a nearby natural water well  
(that’s sucking into half of its capacity in their  
colouratively signalling levels, their floatative  
algal surface...)
as if staring deep into the  
unreturning abyss in a daredevilish stunt… with  
their umbrellaic canopies lighting almost the  
painted algal mirrors of a strange pre~ summer  
skies tonight, with only many faded stars..  
as if they are disinterested..  
 
nearby, an even deadlier specie  
as it’s terrorizingly perceived sudden...  
a python.. lay wounded in all its bundled  
up pitch black mound...  but wait… it’s its  
inanimate mimic in no mimicry of its  
motions however motionless a forest  
python lays after it had gobbled up its  
prey in a single swallow...  
 
seems its just the municipal’s pending  
work as usual.. the big black cables  
lying not just at a collected hotspot, but  
extending its own tailend along the  
roads in some mysteriously micro~ laden  
mineralistic illumine as if whispering  
cosmic secrets to restricted audiences
 
the cable runs long in an eerie silence  
consuming even the curfewed emptiness  
of the pitchblackly tarrroads in a pretty
schoolish~ uniform laid white margin  
ribbony borders on either road ends  
that’s as conspicuous as a lined stretch  
of a cropping belt of midnight jasmines  
in simplified rows of eternal blooms.  
 
 
and, then there are these crickets.. they  
add everything of an ambience... the bassy  
background melancholy as a Nostradamus  
deadly vertical alerts ..  marring them here  
& there in exuberance are those chirpy  
trilling traversals as if intersecting the  
bass in their elated bazaar chattery  
unruliness at such gheraoed junctions...  
slowing sometimes in a familial pace  
of a suppertime’s homecoming talks  
 
still further to these,  are those typa  
intermittent choirs in elegiac notes  
not amounting to those impending  
bassy doomsday.. but in moderations  
as sadly not to much or any happiness  
 yes its but a sure tragedy in bearable  
dilutions, yet physically corroding poor
eardrums in chilly daggering shrills  
 
the night is inviting in all its mysteriousness..  
 yet a felt rugged smugness repels me away  
as I delve into it more & more & more… and but  
why do you do all the singing for,  the fragrance  
& presence you have ever drawing me in..  
what for? You or I are not the each other  
wrapping as choky cling films …transparent  
yet a tight barrier.. a greatwall of China it feels  
sometimes in strangulating our circuit flows  
between.. why all these? or Is it just me?  
 
neither of us are so superficial to be a  
merely a  political facultatively parasitic  
 
we are obligately bowing to Nature... yes.
 
let hope be our religion... in the allowance  
of Our  mergence . of Us.  Now . my night, the  
black of my eyes.. running deep unto soul  
 
 
now I see . hear you.   you. the real you .
a lotus window.. in limelight .. by those  
magical mercury lighted yellows, spraying  
 their blissful shades of golden ambers  
 
as the ever~ burbling waterfall continuum.. you hit well~ all both
my animalistic craving helium nuclei.. the explosive volcanic peaking spots  
& my templed Himalayan chain of elevated saints seeking~ settling inner  
 
 
my burning rage  
are made the pasted green mailaanji’s  
overnight alchemical reds in skinbloom  
as bridal displays...  
 
 
my bodily humours  
run clear as the ageless crystalline  
'Sphatikam' quartz .. in a vitreous icy cold  
'lingams' agelessly in a formative  
calmness  
 
 
all I feel is you, the  
fuelling~ filling fantastical   y o u

in this fleshy reality .. to our  
divining eternity  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
#ERULGCT #4
Written by summultima (uma)
Published
Author's Note
flowing the flow ..as prompted by existential quantized realms leading to mystical infinities.. of Us. Our Love . you know, Love You Rob. Love DU xx

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