In front of a mirror
My eyes stare at me
And my own eyes stares back to myself
A hand’s finger touches a cheek
And inspects the nose
Another hand tracing the mouth


I whisper to my soul
Lips moved up and down
“Don’t worry” I said
Speaking to my weighty heart
A pause…
Of coziness,
Shadowed by Uncertainty
A moment of a thousand interpretation


Turned and tuned
Twisted and shaped
All concluded in a web of answers
Noticeable closely
My other self is examining me-
Me who is preoccupied by self
Possessed by a blessed curse

We are sons of guns
Once a son of man.
Now, dutiful to our guns
Our hearts are daubed with beautiful hatred
And ugly love
Our youthful years borrowed
To Mystic Voyage
From birth at dawn to death at dusk
Via life by midday

We are the slaying generation
An Estate
Hired to death
Planted with bullets
In slaying season
And graves harvested
In dying season

Each dawn awakes a new orange feeling
Shadowed by a wordless numbness at noon
Sunset usher’s eventide’s restlessness
As terror covers the darkness
Panic envelopes the night
Hearts hammering the chest
Pounding worryingly
Until the rapid rhythm of the heart beats
Matches the pace of the
Drumming Boots of the soldiers

Bang, bang! To each door
Sightless sounds of commanding voices…
“Open up”
A pause…silent noises
Sounds of Gunshots…Ram! Pam! Pam!
Crack open the screaming orchestra
Of women and children
Everyone is guilty until proven innocent

Home is not a safe shade no more
Your own House betraying you
Growing Into a shadow
I wonder why the meat sings
In praise of the butcher
Horror commands the naked hours of midnight
As fear rules the remaining decades of hours till dawn.

How do you value those who touched you?
Where none has ever touched
including yourself
those who have drunk from the streams
of your warm wet body with the palms of their hands
but their thirst remains unquenched
and those whose feelings you touched.
What about those who have fallen into abyss of your heart
a heart that is too steep to climb.

Is your inner most feelings
The furthest distance to reach?
Those who left themselves could not reach you
And couldn’t return as they left themselves
Not with their courageous heart but breathing lungs
Locked in memories: remembering embracing you in their chest
Or shaking hands with your breast
Dreaming of dancing together with tongues
Your breath deep in their lungs

What is that is so lovely in your unloved ways?
Truth doesn’t lie in the lips but in the tongue is the taste
why did you kiss their cold cheeks with your burning lips?
Look at their faces: immutable and possessed
Perceptions erased, impressions effaced
A flag raised half-mast
An emblem of your love
Look at them: weary and weak
One of them so wicked and
Another, he and his flesh went separate ways
Leaving his skin hugging his bones
Christmas tree is lovelier of all tress
But has no shade or bore no fruit
Your beauty is no more than
A hidden veil of your weakness
So mysterious..... yet a public secret

Why did you make them walk away?
Were they not worthy or obliged to stay
Who taught you how to dance in another tune?
A rhythm different from the beats of the drums
what is it that you are not doing right? Or
Are You what most find it difficult to love?
And what almost everyone find it hard to leave?