The Dance of Dusk and Flame

🔥The Dance of Dusk and Flame🔥

By the Red Moon and the Crimson Sky

In twilight’s hush, where shadows rise,

She walks; the fury with fire in her eyes.

Kali, the storm, the mother of night,

Wields both death and eternal light.

Garland of skulls, truth’s silent song,

She rights the chaos, she rights the wrong.

With every step, the earth does quake,

Her crimson veil, a dawn to wake.

And there he stands ; still as stone,

Trident bright, in blood-red zone.

Shiva, the void, the fierce, the calm,

Holds the world in his silent psalm.

Together they are ~ creation, end,

Lovers, destroyers, who break and mend.

She dances, he watches ~the cosmic lore,

Of time, of power, forevermore.

🌓✨

*Pictures from the internet 

Beauty on a Barren Land

I found beauty on a barren land 

Dried burnt and scorched it was

Twisted roots and thorns that tricked to pick and when picked they pricked 

But still  the pure white flower survives 

Its fragrance lasting miles

Its brightness blinding thoughts and stopping my feet to pause 

It survived the flames

It survived the heat

It survived on it's own 

On it's own it survived

It survived like me.

it survived the flames

It survived the heat

It survived on it's own 

On it's own it survived 

Dead Thoughts

During poignant thoughts and vacant moments,

What do we do?

We practice self destruction with expertise!

Refilling the half empty vessels in the mind ,

With foolish thoughts that overflow from the brim,

In times of perpetual nights,

Do you refuse to see the sun?

Refuse to see the distant birds and rivers that flow?

The river flows between us like a song,

I on one side you on the other,

I hear the bustling joys and laughter, what do you hear?

But, only drowning shrieks and moans?

Our thoughts and pains and past already dead and gone, we refuse to bury,

Why? Least we feel guilty of being happy, again?

And there we go again…,

Exhuming the dead past and examining it, over and over again like an autopsy,

Sifting through the dirt and bones, like a madman, till the Bones cry out!

The Bones cry out: ‘Oh Please stop! Let me rest in peace, will you?’

Still, we continue like Vultures, circle and swoop down, pick out, and

feed on the rotten flesh and bones,

The Dead Flesh cries out: ‘Oh !Please stop! Haven’t you had your fill ,till your juices churned with revulsion?

‘Let me please dissipate into the morning sun and the blue sky!’

‘Stop feeding on me!’

The past, pains and memories want to let go off YOU and so thus YOU must let go of THEM too!

Set them free! And so shall you be!

Will you?

Tell me ….NOW.. do you hear the birds sing and the bubbling river in its course?,

Feel the sun and the magic in the sky?

Or are you still hearing the shrieks and groans and feel the dampness in the air?

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Where is your core being?What is there?

If we reach the center of our being and understand it,we are at the core of ourselves. The answers become simplified and practical. Stay still and you shall find your core being.

Pain is a Constant

Right side pain,

But I have a left side brain,

Right side hurts,

But my left fingers are alert,

My right limb aches, 

But my left limb takes, 

all the strain,

Half a body good,

Half a body bad,

A painless day, 

Is something I have never had,

There is nothing left to do,

And nothing feels right,

Eyes become weak,

My brain numbs things slight,

But,

The mind is still sane,

Pain is like the everyday ride on, the dreary daily train,

Yet, the vision is deep,

When I wake or I'm asleep,

On my right bed side and my left lamp light,

Can't bare it on one shoulder and no sweet  dreams on the other pillow side,

Pain on my right side, and strain on my left leg,

To live is the joy of life,and living life is the joy in pain.  

--*--

I suffer from pinch nerves and numbness on my fingers, and back pain which peaks so much in winter, that I cannot turn my side and get up crying. I love to write and can type but my wrists and fingers hurt after a while, but I still do it. I cannot play tennis anymore, due to a tear inside my arm that if opened seeps fluid that causes swelling,I cannot grip a guitar anymore,nor confidently hold things and I m constantly afraid that I might drop them, but I live with it and it's normal, if you should meet me , you will never realize it because I choose to not be bothered by it and sulk because I know there are worse things that can and have happened to people. We have to live with pain with acceptance. 

The Squared Dead Squeeze of the Wasted Effort

Walls all around me
Corners that point 90°
The edges come closer and closer
No gap
No break
No cut
No opening
Just a dead end
Running pillar to post
East to west
Zig- zig round and round
Banging walls
Silent cries
no one hears
Deafening silence
Buzzing in my head
Is that the ceiling coming down?
Or the floor rising up?
Soon to be smashed into nothing ...ok...fine...
Inspite of trying...
Brilliant but wasted efforts..... yet
I'll die first and then maybe I'll quit?
Maybe.