The Sun

arrives again

empty of light

full of talk

so much talk

it becomes real and loud conversations

and the entire L-shaped house

its furniture

its décor

its yellow walls

just there

all these years

dull and dark…

and all day

I see myself

all the time…

but there are

some moments…

like a tiny opening…

and then pure sky

the escape

at last

flying forgetting…

and refreshed

with birds in my hair

I return

to my father’s chair

by the window

and the wind blows

and blows

making my head roll

over and over

until I am blown over

to my father’s bed

and the night then

arrives beautiful

with all its lights

full of desire

and gathers me up

in her arms

taking me entranced

through all the beds

I’ve slept in

down to my mother’s womb

and beyond that

O I am blown

till I am no more

and the lights

slowly go out

in my eyes

and I sleep.

 

The above poem is from my third ebook The Branches (2015).

Hello Moon

you have such a beautiful face

would you like to come over

to my place

here I sit lonely

with my glass of whisky

in hand

while my life

sick of me

flows away like sand

come moon

step over this scaffolding

and climb in

through my window

O come moon

don’t ponder so much

I’m feeling so low!

And Now The Mind

is here

just behind the ashtray

good morning day

for long I have wanted

to kiss you

feel your dew

on my lips

no more I think

the body has failed

the mind dissolved

now it’s just this endless wandering

like I’m doing now

right now

through this white desert

trying to find all these words

for company

for direction

like lamp-posts

or all day I will just be talking

to myself

not reaching anywhere

like this I can wander to a bus-stop

and even get into a bus

for a ride

and see where it takes me

now when the day just folds

itself over me like a blanket

becomes night

my body clock broken

my mind such a mix

of memory and time

my life bursts open

burns

becomes bare ashes

and then just

skeleton images I have in my mind

caricatures of myself mirrors

repetition

rhyme

a connection

ignition in time

and I feel liberated

only when I write

like riding my bicycle

as a child

through new lanes

those moments

of discovery

in the morning

finding those new buildings

lime-washed in the sun

those trees

what fun

and now it’s nice

once again

and it smells so refreshing

this early morning warmth

the coolness of this coconut water

and the silence

and the silence

so beautifully broken

by these pigeons

their bush of fluttering wings

rising in one sudden moment

my mind gets completely blown away

and then I ride through sky

the wind rushing

down the roads

the buildings speeding

the vehicles

in their silent seas

the palm trees

and their swaying leaves

whispering

come

come Dominic come.

 

The above poem is from my third book The Branches (2015).