Monthly Archives: April 2015




Some days may not sing beautiful notes
Nor will some other days dance to the rhythm
Of grey engrafted words of virtual actions in monotony
Yearning for the lullabies that send two hearts swinging
With bitter-sweet love adjusted in fast tracking silence
The one that came for a hollow holiday when the sun burns
Red, red was the color painted on the those footprints of fond memories
Although not gone when the sun began to rise on your face
Wrestling with the sunset of yesterday’s black bleak enemy of self
Hidden in the casted shadow stifled by your heart’s ache
Virtually, your subconscious state housed many faces of lust and love forlorn
You, denied of the beauty that lay in fifty shades of unwillingness before long
That day, your voice rang louder than the voices of many, hungry for that touch
I heard the rushing of your heart’s waterfalls of words gushing with power
I heard that single note playing in the atmosphere of your faithfulness to one
To that one who scattered your once united embrace, faraway like the
slaves of Amistad
With little or no hope for the brightness of another period of freedom
Your broken walls were raised, boundaries uncrossed
Your eyes lit dim at the end of the tunnel that once existed in tomorrow’s hope
Criss-crossing misses and virtual notes of love on this journey of no
wider scope
I heard you once loved, loved like it was your last breath
You wrapped yourself around her, wishing for warmth
But those cracks on the walls of your heart crumbled, crashing hard at your feet
You waltzed back and forth to fight back dark feelings to win and defeat
But the brightness of her face carefully sent a million darts
Your heart coerced, surrendered to her straight sharp arrest
Minutes and hours danced into several dwarfed weeks
You saw, you captured and almost conquered this territory
Knowing the end from the beginning, forestalling, repeating history
Liberally living calm and collected, collecting coldness carefully
Reeling out tenets of societal norms virtually
Having what your are allowed to dream about happily
A battle weary sailor, an enigma in a world that’s blurry
Once again passing through time, trying to leave behind no legacy
Cupped in the hands of your fifty shades of grey, virtually lovingly
The heavens may be grey on a cloudy day
But beauty comes when its weeping clears
For not all storms are in a forecast and not all gloomy face remains downcast
So, kick off the that coat of fifty grey stripes
For that coat of beauty and colors of the rainbow awaits your warm embrace.

Neofloetry, 2015.