Mirror Filled With Guilt
At the mirror filled with guilt
Even the rubbish sells
I barked. Soon I recollected my facial arch
And looked around to ensure no one
Saw me in the deed
And broke the mirror into pieces.
The Root
Let me reset all the images
irregular
The stones turn
deaf
if you carve them out of
Father—
the mountain is
bleeding
in silence!
People have carved out
many images
and have taken possession of
the forms
among themselves
The forms have lost
the content —
no grass grows on
stone images.
Yet they worship and grow
old
to forget the holy Father
and go mad
with the child images.
Voyeurism
Creeping on my chest
the ant touched my neck
Move away from here now
I'm conjugating, I screamed.
In the dusk of the room
her body made a posture
I tried to read it in vain
peeping through the windowsill.
She gasped with strong breath
the wind blew out of the window
where I stood waiting for a glimpse
she tossed in the bed for life.
I dress in the dark for fear
She may lick her lips
to see me bare in the ribs
and kill me in the daylight.
Plagiarism
It is easy to write:
easy to plagiarize
copy the things:
it’s yours
but think twice
before you plagiarize
your run-of-the-mill art
may get derail
of the destination and
you may land in some corner
where mosquitoes will eat you up
till you cry it hard and vomit:
apologies, money and all!
Note: To read these poems, visit ken* again.
