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Image for the poem  Is it forever about to rain or raining forever.. the (r)oaring pen shall have the say

Is it forever about to rain or raining forever.. the (r)oaring pen shall have the say

 
 
 
 
the wind lashes  
in a waywardly misdemeanour, in this  
Sunday’s an exceptionally noisy twilightic  
terrace.. mobbed by the why~so? letloosely  
cross-talking aerial tenants.  as if the invasive  
aliens landed straight in those dreaded rooftops..  
flaunting well the social distancing in a cleverly  
loophole of the laws of these sudden  
pandemic days..

 
(..in perhaps a crazy thinking that  
those just few raised metres of altitude  
are not under the curfewed radars  
.. their crashing gossipy peaks  
as if unnoticed, as to the much  
uncensored contents afloat in  
the loaded airs worthy of a polluted  
collapse to a tumbling nowhere..)

 
 
 
& here i am, navigating ways in  
so many trying n-permutative probabilistic  
combinative directions.. to so align against  
the dashing winds.. tasting the rush of them all  
in a hopeful face-to-face encounter..
but find it  
all the more hard to pinpointedly trace them  
& feel their fine streaming in unidirectional  
currents.. to a drowning mesmerize

 
(but,  sad they have gotten into their fated  
virtueless dilutions... all in name of communal  
(mis)adventurous dealings they do …in  
a beastly open allowance of merely a  
“vetti pecchu”: the empty preaching  
philosophies they do.. only  acting  
unethically secretive.. in maliciousness  
of an underground mafia don, blown  
to a high of its maddening mind.. losing  
 
all their wet swollen pearly droplets of  
their many tiny airy atomic palanquins    
to a  carried away to dreary dry heat spell  
..in no chances of rainfall .. over the waiting  
forever in the widening.. perniciously  
anaemic parched eyelands of hope..
frangibly pulsing still)

 
 
 
heart feels the mutinous uprising  
of a burning Thar desert... its blindingly  
bright & a fiery lighted uneasy stillness heat  
...corrodes at a tsumanic sweeping ease  
the traecheal tree's stemmy succulence  
.. spreads fast its vanquishing spree  
across its bunch of bronchial threads  
...uproots their long strongheld  
nativities..  to a mass~burial

 
(the once quantum leaping heart-  

-is a faintly heard ravaging arrhythmia  
of a lapsing thirsty tongue serving penance  
in an indefinitely forced isolation…  
 
-has forgotten its once drenched wetlands  
with its aortal gladioli of arteries clasped  
in an intertwining 'Vanakkam' origami folds  
reminiscent of its childhood day papery boat  
plays over the chattery~ giggly fast streaming  
jet of rains in lengthy pleating ahead those  
shallow runways..  in butterfly hopscotches  
 
-have been benumbed of even those lifesaving  
drizzly showers..  in each trickling deeply critical  
bolddrops with its spading in dugouts birthing  
revolutions ..  of petrichoric emanating springs  
in a romantic crisis..  out of the bearing golden  
ripe actimomycetic aquifers of liquescing love  
 
-is now an uneventful eventide of bland regimens  
..a clinical sterility.. in an inevitably so~inhumane  
in the abrupt devising)

 
 
 
the reigning blue veins
are the hitlerized giants seen all over in their  
full bulletproof & masked astronautical suits  
..reverse pumping in their dogmatic impurities  
of the day, in deoxygenating strangles of silence,  
midnight’s elegiac lullaby syringes in the suicidal  
dose at a soothing pace  
 
the static ribcage cellular  
are the mundane accomplice of a mere setup  
spectator... to their own caged destinies waiting  
for a lively death...  rolls in countdown cell by cell  
in chronic pain episodes..  of an ever elongating  
time  
 
until there feels  
anymore  
the difference between  
honey/ venom, rain/ famine,  
life/death

…  
 
 
 
 
pen nib in the sharpened swording...
is but in the steady capillary drawing inner..  
the frothy fuelling fresh soul~inks of  
the never~ lost cosmic energies.. injects in  
the microcosmic rain droplets of life.. to  
the craving red dawns... hatches out with its  
yolking nucleus sun in the macrocosmic  
One coalesce..  
 
..to an expanse of its ever held testament~ truth  
of Love..
over the frailty bodily frames rigging even  
those skeletal~ filled barren grounds below.. in  
the minded battlefields of an overly loaded greys  
 
 
the versing pen  
of Our Love, my Love, shall  
be the verbing tool ev
of Our Awakening  
each now..

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
#6 #ERULGCT  
summultima
Written by summultima (uma)
Published
Author's Note
#6 #ERULGCT. long blabberations.. aching for minimalistic golds that which Rob's #5 shines of.. me keeps trying :)

Love as the Power of Words.. as Art of Poetry... flows deep to fight all...
#6 #ERULGCT. long blabberations.. aching for minimalistic golds that which Rob's #5 shines of.. me keeps trying :)

Love as the Power of Words.. as Art of Poetry... flows deep to fight all dark.. a Corona Times inspired dark write of a struggle.. Love is the Only Light & All. you know. Robonoid xx

*vetti pecchu & vanakkam are Tamil words

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Ahavati calamitygin DanielChristensen NewBeginnings nomoth Strangeways_Rob
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