deepundergroundpoetry.com
~In Search Of The Dreams & Rains of Transcendence
1.
((the visceral anatomy of a Transcendence))
the fuming yellows of this summer eve
how is a dimlit gloomy breakout in quick
mutable blindness... the
extremities switch such in never touching
yet running close subtle collimations , as if
serially in connectedness .. of
separate events that kill selves before the
other ushers..
(only the stency
ammoniacal sweat zones
of a verboten sticky hotness skins remain
as a self~ stigmatized decoupaged image
.. an aggrandizing deserted lorn~ scape
of slithery broadening hissy tongues... the
bundled firelog of sooty
burning effigies..
sudden aerosol
gush of fragrant colognes
doesn’t quench these volcanic
spewy rage...
.. & the until long
politesse erected hips...
{of a delicately in constrictions & in terrific
sudden hairpin diversing curvaceous traverse
terrains all over now...} plead a curt destalking
un~ aesthetic break ..if those days of a breezy
swaying acrobatic alchemy.. doesn’t replace
the shrilly consternating skeletal sterns... in
a porous blown dusts of its
dulling truckle
ears pierce
from the inner mushrooming
nuclear~ fission blackboom cloudy bombs
..tremble as skyful vipers' venomous rattle...
a big~ banging n-tonnage colliding giants
of cacophonously tearing in tinnitus... in a
wholly deafening collapse
of the senses...
wide eyes
in a wishful forerunning demise
fume under the invisibly splashing plasma
of corroding acidic rains… a blackout, by
the liquescing guerrilla warfaring
missiles
fingers crawl
as forever attenuating long
strain wiredraws... refines in a search... a
purpose... the live pyre of the basal sacral
chakra fire.. crumbles the fragile dumbbell
hourglass ticking frame... to discrete sand
grain in the counts & accounts of err & sins..
& the larger goodwill harmonies play music
of redemptions- a miraculous amalgamating
functional liberty ..of rotten flesh in the dying...
& those inspidly hinged
meaningless vestiges)
2.
[the incentred~பராசக்தி~ "The Supreme Power"
as the daily ‘dream dejavu' Awakening currents]
nights of the dejavu dreams come ornamental
with the powering her.. a long? familiar woman…
(who is as if in
n-timely insertions into this spiralling space now..
perhaps after decades of her real encounter.. she
tonight offers my girls with umpteen new sequined
frocks & gifts.. hold hands with my lighted bright eyes
of the jubilant ever inner soul child …both flitter &
flutter as erratic orbiting high
red rustic butterflies..
..spinning frolic
in village fairs with those mouthful
loads of vintage retro candies... the saccharine floss
candies to the elastic~ forever watch-candies... to
those saffronic syrupy~ spongy~ honey candies..
& those jaw~ dismantling rockhard~ set peanut
caramel ‘kamrakattu’ candy balls.. & also the fine
fragmenting loose strands of the mounted golden~
floury sugary flakes, selling each hot handfuls in
small paper cones…the delicious
'soan papadi'
ahh.. so much endless divinities she takes me back
who is she… I seem to feel I know her, yet I don’t...
a long missing block in the abstruse bridging now...
after all the bloody rife cracking innumerous gaps...
of the illegibly torn chapters, in pretty perniciously
amnesiac times & reasons...
now is in a seamless suturing timeless one space..
beckons the minute detailing yet a holistic pure ‘self’
…in a magnificently magnifying dream dejavu-
the rebirths
3.
>>inkling auguries of a thickly monsoon ‘rain’ brews<<
of those
reckoning nights, when I was lost in the lusting
wet moon~ romancing rounded nakedness of the streets
..you rationally left me unperturbed in
tangled turbulences
..a dusky sparrow, I
fly high to a hellish heightened deathly
falls, for a forever scarring crashlanded touchdowns..
fallen as thinning miniscule spherules~ stringing
teardrops of a pureform rainfall
#32 #ERULGCT
Published 13th May 2020
Author's Note
#32 #ERULGCT.. a try to capture the feltness .. the wild raw riverine stream of consciousness..
the senses & the inner core of this yogic soul ..in a transcendence an awakening... as it dawns from the past &/ amidst the darkness continuum.. as the Shakti, the Kundalini & more Ushering you name them.. in pureform rains.. of Truth, this our Love.. You Know. Robonid
pic: web. Mariusz Lewandowski Art
the senses & the inner core of this yogic soul ..in a transcendence an awakening... as it dawns from the past &/ amidst the darkness continuum.. as the Shakti, the Kundalini & more Ushering you name them.. in pureform rains.. of Truth, this our Love.. You Know. Robonid
pic: web. Mariusz Lewandowski Art
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13th May 2020 3:40pm
“How much better is silence; the coffee cup, the table. How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. Let me sit here for ever with bare things, this coffee cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself.”
― Virginia Woolf, The Waves
These streams of which you articulate, consume me, as the wide open ocean. Love me xx
― Virginia Woolf, The Waves
These streams of which you articulate, consume me, as the wide open ocean. Love me xx
13th May 2020 8:45pm
moments reading you are moments in your eyes that see so much,
(too much maybe) and skirt, tear, push and push the boundary
like a receding brutal smog cleaving out a pure morning light for us all.
", as if
serially in connectedness .. of
separate events that kill selves before the
other ushers.. "
"plead a curt destalking
un~ aesthetic break"
falling on so many golden jewels.
always in pure admiration.
(too much maybe) and skirt, tear, push and push the boundary
like a receding brutal smog cleaving out a pure morning light for us all.
", as if
serially in connectedness .. of
separate events that kill selves before the
other ushers.. "
"plead a curt destalking
un~ aesthetic break"
falling on so many golden jewels.
always in pure admiration.
13th May 2020 11:27pm
self~ stigmatized decoupaged image...so, so sublime uma. Most days I listen to Beethoven, Bach, Mahler, etc...but Monday is always my day of meditation, silence and nature...a day of cleansing.
Peace...Harry
Peace...Harry
15th May 2020 2:36am
You gut me, us all, Uma. Incredible depth and breadth of piercing, penetrating vision.
