Bloody December

At the edge
of the garden of eden
standing there as a
torn and leaking garbage can
choked with smoke
muffled voices in the head
and the cigarette dancing
trembling in the hand

slipping into circles of fire
till they become bare and wither
unweaving threads of every
ragged dream and desire
in memory of the love
written to end as murder
in the coolness of that
cold winter of december

for the journey that started
in the womb of her mother's
and ended straight into
the hell of the gutters
the warmth of the
spilled blood
and its promise
to drown every living memory
in its red bloodied river

Moist Love

You are warming those toes
at the edge of the bonfire
and the cold night weeps silently
weeping to its own woes
knowing not if you are
cursed to be moist
or to be loved as a
windless desert cries
parched between the legs
high but drained dry

but you take a casual stretch
and a hungry beast sitting beside
falls off the edge
streaks of blue light
touching raw nerves
and each passing moment
with burning guts
raising the desire for your love
and comes just at the most
inopportune time
one mistaken touch
and everything goes blur
a story that was to
have a beginning
and a happy end
but now just a coarse
drunken voice
all spilled over and slurred

Loner Stoner

As the raging river
slowly subsides
walk through crystal walls
mountain rocks round hollow
all withering to salt
with its changing colors
the river turns to reptile
and with a promise as
pure as a dark moonless night
with shining teeth and gleaming eyes
promises only to swallow
and not to bite

flowing in the footprints
on the dead beaten tracks
blinded by neon signposts
inviting you to your grave
walking with a sway
and convinced that walking straight
the loner stoner follows the way
follows like a
dog follows a cliche

follows

as a ugly frog waits
to be kissed
by the princess of death

follows

as the lizard waits
for the end of days
to dig into human flesh

follows

as a blessed black butterfly
with the heart of
red burning kali inside
takes wings and starts to fly

follows follows

as a blessed black butterfly
with the heart of
red burning kali inside
takes wings and starts to fly

to drop dead on the love
secreting a wish
for it as it dies
to be raped a hundred times

follows

Moonbow Night

Betting against all the horses
in natures park
forcing against the forces
the devil gives a silent applause

beyond the horizon
gates of the calm sea left broken
clouds part ways with the sky
and a giant hole tears itself open

a single stroke of light
blinds the full moon shining bright
with lowered eyes
the moon bows to the night

dance of the devil starts
and illuminates the path
a hollowed soul cheers to itself
starts catching falling knives

blood as thin as
cold blue ice
comes flowing down
as golden words of the vice

cup of soul starts to fill
consuming itself with the will
to last for seven lives
living each on the dark side

Baba is a Black Sheep

Revulsed in their body
repulsed in their soul
with overgrown hair
and overflowing beard
away from their crowd
away from their herd
the black sheep are
at it again
scraping away their skin
spreading far and wide
spreading themselves thin
to become lean and mean
all in their futile
attempts to become clean
but the blackness has seeped
too deep within
as the secret
with only
too much regret
unveils itself
out of the dark well
they bury their heads
in the sands of time
and roll away
never again to
fall back in line
and find that
their only way
to atone for
the great sins
is by paying the price
through even
greater acts of cowardice

Deep Pressed

The stars mark
their target
as the armies
mark their planet
but generals
before you win or lose
your war
spare some bullets
for the ones
who are kind enough
to need it the most

become the pied piper
and lead forward by
playing the real tune
when the bells ring
at the wrong hour
of misfortune

spare some bullets
for those
who are kind enough
to need it the most

deep pressed
with their
black charred souls
grinding down low
and slashing some throats or
letting lose the rope
to hang themselves
by the threads
of the same joke

climbing high
breaking all the
loose strands
of the stress
wounds try to redress
but torn up afresh
tuning up further on
their degrees of distress

spare a few bullets
for the ragged
endless battles
lost and won
and lost again
over and over again
because they cant
get out of their
own heads

Midnight Snacks

Lonesome waterdrops
dropping dead in the
middle of the night
thuds that show to
eyes that gleam
when you can't blink
sleep is just another
futile dream

silence cracks at midnight
from the pressure put forth
on the creaking door
a freaks footsteps follow
onto the floor

in the chaos
of all the sounds
hear the pin screaming
as it is falling
to the ground

the fever starts rising
the sirens they
start blazing
in the ambulance
the doctor
the patient
the medicine
they combine
the disease groping
for a new meaning

under the starry nights the
forked out shadows
left their bodies
and now lurk in
corners of the mind

waiting their turn
they know now
its their time
start to take their slow walk
reaching their final point
end point of
white blinding light
as the great
big sound screeches to a halt
plunge forward all together
in the dark

the pop-eyed eyes
huddled in the corner
holding onto the horror
as it unfolds
they are left
begging for more

Ismile

Bare your bones
to touch your soul
for a soul
sold to the world
strip away the
threads of every
piece of cloth
and stand as
tries to stand
a begging bowl

every thought
turned into knots
every ought
turned into a ought not
pure as a white
holy ghost
knock on those doors
for a smile to
cut loose from
someone's tight lipped purse
for a love that loves
but loves only as a curse