Petticoats

cosetted by lice and vermin of all sorts
the men sit cosily with their petticoats as the women wear straightjackets
somebody wants to say its better to wear a saroong
but that would be culturally ihneffective
the women dressed in chains and lace tell its time for tea
the men love to wear high undercarriages to keep their secrets less exposed
one of them wants to say hey lets get the jackets off and use it to build a fire
but campfires are outdated, obsolete, obscene; why do it if we have a living room
a jaundiced man wearing pants is too happy in pretending that he is different
because his trunks underneath have the same seems of these petticoated dreams
they want to ask did you not get the memo but that would entail communication a non-tea event with our earl greys in place — one of the women is covertly drinking green tea another tulsi but they have their retro upped hair to represent a steady scene, a cosy way to interject erections

finally somebody screams: “I want to  get out.”

but the petticoats make a foot trip; bruising the beauty of the mouth.▬

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Aside

What is friendship?At times I wonder if friendship

What is friendship?
At times I wonder if friendship is even real. I know historically, in reality, fiction, epics and poetry friendship is ever present. Same pop culture examples that come to mind is Sherlock and Watson and in the Indian subcontinent you have Akbar and Birbal (coincidentally both Watson and Birbal served as advisors too to their cherished friend to and visa versa).

Some friendships turn romantic; be it of whichever sex. We know The Merchant of Venice focuses on the homoerotic and presumably sexual relationship between Antonio and Bassanio which led to the pound of flesh affair. In Oranges are not the only fruit (I’m in no way anti-religious) Jeanette’s love for her friend Melanie is obviously more than just friendship. Then of course you have countless heterosexual depictions such as Sethe’s love with Paul D in Beloved.

These friendships have intimacy and understanding; closeness and comfort, a form of stability maybe even a form of chaos (however, they need not echo the sexual or erotic).

The warm soup, the warm broth, the hormones, the contacts, the bonds are these just a mere illusions?

No.

Unfortunately, I think I never had. or lost friendship.

heat days

the golden cotton of caramal lust muddles the eyes
thirsty for ripeness and fulfillement
we seize the time for the siestas or the toil
some in half-baked somnambulism
some loving the warm green of freckled tree flesh
mosaic of star and planet

Oh God I love the heat days but it sometimes is not loved at all
a fact of summer perhaps.

simple cuts

fixated on the winey-bile
are crooked limbs typing crooked lies
all the time finding faults
with people who only adhere to simple beliefs

there are people put on the table
minimized, atomized, radicalized, compromised
debtors, creditors, bankers, lawyers
all these money-can-bring-happiness-like professions
or people who use that philosophy for their practice
are all after you; your life is like a . decimal unit
crammed into fiscal years of binary blindnesses

I want just people to be able to breathe
taxation on life is now a monopoly market.▬

the twisted opera

I
am
isolated.
I
am
kind
of
an
outcast…
you
see
me
then
don’t
like
melting
ice.

Are we a society of outcasts or an outcasted society?
We love variety but we suck at maintaining good old orders
funny, how we label only to demonize and let free actual criminals
at times I feel we live in a jester’s court
for there the mime is told to recite
the judge sits behind bars
the pickpocket transcribes
and the joker is on the king’s seat
with citizens on trial
and the monarchy as jury

imperialism is radical with change
radical at staying the same.▬

feeding frenzy

my mind craves adventure
its been calloused by too much comfort
seeing the doozy dumpling of sun
and the marble effects of the moon
are but synthetic trophies to my vision
I can eat them by sight yet when I affix broader networks
I get elated because there in that dense map
beneath the superficial sheen lie freckled flesh, flexible flesh, floundering flesh
that cartographers would indeed enjoy.

The sensuous can bond with the intellectual sans the cheap armours
we can love with thrill and lust with piety if we erase those smooth contours that bait
desperation and disaster; we need feed-well our silences and outbursts.

I know birds in gilded cages can sing more
but the sky to them is an unklnown planet
to sing and fly in a 90° or 360° of some equinox
is better I think than playing tic-tac-to on parallel lines.▬

the apposites of opposites

bonds of gossamers are like constellations
waiting to be watched under scopes or naked eyes
with a study of aesthetics than mere classifications
hoping that God’s Creations will be loved —

I opened up the door of a basement
it looked akin to the attic
I guess this is is the kind of conversation
roots have with branches
soil and rocks
clouds and air
need the bark
needs to mix and mate —

I saw seeds that reminded me of nests
all trying to breathe and grow with some symmetry
all unique and inherited; a quasi-pattern, a quasi-harmony as God intended

you see boulders are like flutes they sing too
with voices wide and far
and boulders are like shrubs
they can be picked and scattered

I guess that is the bond between bones and feathers
they rustle like dews and branches signifying seasons
and can become sepia-gray underneath smoothness and pressure
we can only name some stars as we can only name some spiders.▬

dualities and homogeneity in some discourses

I am rehearsed in propriety, in the outlandish mode of some deviations
I can squint enough to see somewhat perfect; I can open up and stay alert minimumcan I negate the arsenic of the castaways? building broths of anger of being discarded
things that bang like empty skulls upon synthetic braile
the meniscus further tied down to facts that are error-born.

We will always be half-naked it seems while living
as I tap across wooden desks and hollow barks
I wondered who could understand truly today
when neon craze and selfish brazenness inhibits too much
gives off a neurotic dullness; a soul can collapse with the paucity of overload.▬