axis of life is tilted to bring happiness – cento

Light is not a pinpoint, it pours in a torrent,
the windswept valley becomes a funneled receptacle;
slices of sky thrown back like pebbles
drops down like a blue marble into the dark hollow.

The winter hangs its soul on the branches,
at the arm where the river dragged with silt
the noun moves, explodes into golden dust,
unspooling coil of memory in loops of letters.

Poem A Day

The word “cento” means “patchwork” in Latin, and refers to a poem pieced together from lines taken from other poems — in other words, a collage poem.
To write my cento I have used lines from the poems I wrote the whole of this month. The title of the poem is also from one of the poems I wrote this month. Many of the lines I have used are from sombre and dark poems. Here they bring happiness, let in sunshine. That is the magic of words, poetry!

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law of exclusion

A place is never too far,
just around the corner
where the universe falls off.

We have been turning
on the pole of dissent;
the slant of the moon
falls at an angle oblique
that it distorts his face
throws mine in silence.

The point of intersection
of our bodies
sustains
on parting –
never coming together.

Is there a ray of light where
we can lay our memories
and send it
down deep sea
where mermaids with neon eyes sing?

When we embrace the empty space
exclusion marks our presence,
at  periphery our boundaries meet.

I can’t bother waiting another lifetime
as if lifetimes were some marbles
I want to strike.
But there are things larger than all this –
that no amount of denial will blur his presence.

Words walk along like my shadow,
refuse to leave me
like a faithful dog bobs behind,
to glue us together.

He turns toward me.

It is different after all the years
and the distance
where speech cannot stretch and span.
Silence plays mischief;
I have to talk, watch words blow like sand
to grate his eyes, blind him.

No truth ever exists,
and every day comes to end
with a book mark placed,
to continue
where I left the previous day.

Poem A Day

matsya

I swim backward in time
years fall away like my skin

Scales of fish grow on me
in the galactic swirl with two suns

Primeval darkness glows red with heat
catalyses the sperm of desire

In the deep water my hands cleave
the layers of evolution

Poem A Day

pith

navigate darkness
pebbled smooth
under the feet

whisper of night
rustles corn stalks
in fistful of breeze

earth breathes
shuffling sand
in subterranean river

words in landscape
dislodge thoughts
in interlocked stones

Poem A Day