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~Sky & Flesh Of Our Paarijaat Nights & Paramporul Nucleus, Is This Breathing Poetry: Love (A RobUma Collab)
The moon’s perfect vowel
Oozes luna(r)tic tides
Across ripples of our lips
Breath drifting from mouth –
Shiuli tongues circle
Paper windmill sails,
Big ships can sink in birdbath
& this is why, my love, our
Universe is the size of diver’s lungs.
lunging shrilly zilling tambourines
of our trembling amphibian gills... breathe
in the swelling tears of the unplucked
diffusing ecstasy of the whites- of- night
Arabian Jasmines... the aching airs
filling & overflowing each breathe
in an anthem of our boundlessly
brewing fervours of this magical
mesmerize- love...
In raw winter months
Every window pane has its own tree,
Sun flowers creep as silhouettes of statues seizing our souls
Hibernation is a river which fills with blood
& foaming oceans longing for more.
We dare to become ashes of a furious day
Bone upon bone in skeletal silence.
barebones of a silencing zen
intensifies... in spite of the transpiring
purgatory porosities
of the lined-up hushing stomata
in repetitive night chants...
those eaten up yet holding wafery layers
with cellulosic way maps of serpentine leafy
miners... lead to the lushly festivous greens
of our endless estival syntheses
Astride ocean railings
We are the margin walkers,
Skulking over shingle stained
By centuries of sea skull, lapping
Flesh to organ to tendon:
They made typewriter strings from whale plastic.
They created the new world from the olde.
the ungone Olde World still reminisces
in the flash~ lightning daggers… trembling
the dark skies in weeping synereses
& but seeds the wide-open eye whites
in quartzy~ crystalline coalescing drizzle drops
of our newness now – unguent convalescing
sky and flesh indifferentiable cohesions... from
those dry dehiscent stranded spells
of war-split famine regimes
Upon the stereo, beyond crescentic bay
Mother-of-pearl waters spring oyster open,
Deep sea divers drive
Wreckage around the bends.
Whale song lures Sirens
Inside their rocks.
metamorphosing up above & across
the cocooning evolutionary spacetimes..
wombs abuzz with recital mantra frequencies..
an in-between half silence & half whispers.. are
the hum~ om emergence- enthralling enormities
as eternally paired fluttery flying saucers
-the autumnal butterflies...
undyingly circling our benthic churning
ambrosial sanctums... until their each
slow~ steady propeller move & winking wings
connect.. as spiralling prayer pathways- point
unto a destined micro~ dotting containment
to its inner sing(l)ing nucleus Samadhi
-an ashen rising clouded densities
of brittle brokenness scales dissipate
as scripted nothingness dusts…
In remains of Peragamum
Lipstick ink sanctifies parchment,
Born
Still as prayer book in papyrus stream.
Library lungs inhale sex & death
Books final breath is never fatal.
drippy tarry reading eye~ ridges
of congregating sweatiness rows...
flow as elevating temple towers-
unto the brimming well of black
tears... in a streaking smeary artistry
rundown of kohling viscosities… with
a thickening hazy smokiness all round
surround in an incensing~ inhaling
holiness ambience
-when the indelibly drawing parallel strokes
of graffitied buckminsterfullerene solid inks
verse forevermore with tinkling alphabetical
facets over the now slashed down sudden
broken walls & window sill from the storming
in rains of an yellowish aging eve swept off
abruptly to darkening horses of apocalypse
..redhot bloodmoon fullness
burns fierce the eerie spread
darkness to enflaming effigies
-& the longanimity stars descend
down as Paarijaat blooms-
evokes our lotusing limbic amygdala
- in furtherance a catalytic gluing
of our dewy fresh lipping plumpness
in a sturdy mystical turgor… of our
inquisitively webbing misty eyelands…
to a torrential articulating silent align
matriculation- unto the elemental
depths of love- an indivisible enigma
this our unitary atomic core- of
Paramporul~ the God Particle
Past pulses as broken metronome
Syncopation of that which is ‘ere o’er true.
No more slave to morgue’d memory
Spit and spade for that grave.
We live like this:
The man, the woman
Walking close to water
Hanging poetry from piano string.
The Eternal:
Ladder in last orchard
Creaking under creek of creation,
Reaching for scalpel skies
Lunging at the sun.
Fruit will always rot
Temples may burn
Roads surrender
To dust & decay:
Only love survives.
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