I can feel the shoreline fill my lungs.
Summer is on the tip of our tongues.
We'll dance towards the ocean without even knowing,
The gleam of the sun keeping our smiles still showing.
I can feel the grass caress me now.
It tells me of the rest it will allow.
The breeze sweeps me up and tells me tales
Of past respite its given us and our sails.

Envision
an appreciation
of your impurities
exfoliated into an aura
rather than a facade
unbalanced on
secrets.

Unlike a lace gown
sewn to his eye's perfection and fragile to intrigued fingertips.

Separately framed from other self-portraits
displayed for onlookers to applaud the absent authenticity, and
for the egocentric to endorse their entitlement.

Beautiful
     (noun).
                  Uniquely embellished soul
     (adjective).
                  Not merely innocent
                  Not purely ******
                  Not fearful of the exotic
     (verb).
                  Facing the sun and forgetting
                  All analysis of the world around us,
                  Splashing each other with our reflections
                  In the puddles rippling the rainbow.

Heavens were furious this time
In a glimpse it happened
His bridges were burnt down
Void inclination towards life

Desolated on vandalized street he stood
With a malady of his spirit
Immense misery in his heart
The facade of spurn was prejudiced

Confined within the darkness
Lost in the echo of agitation
With a deep gasp and step forward
He feels the quiver in his bones

Divergent roads ahead
To take revenge or to let go
The emptiness inside would never culminate

The Satan inside prevails
Sanity is exfoliated
World seems to consolidate
Paradox of emotions Outburst !

                                       ~D. Akshay Kumar

Cedar armored walls.
Defined by addition.
These 4 walls are only limitations.
Multiplied by distance .
To equal a
Freedom cut down.
Chipped at with a dull ax.
Bring the house down.
Glory and drink in hand.
This carpet captures secrets.
The spills of wine and tears.
Stains on character.
This chair stands strong.
Faultered? Not today.
Antique like your bones.
Fragile pressure of air.
Pressing on your pores.
You light this room.
Presence of fireflies.
Light my will to the door.
Step into the world.
Through this lanterned heart.
Use your butterfly eyelashes.
Flick the snowflake.
Guide your melting steps.
Snow disapates into forever.
Your an angel through purity.
Lungs flushed of ability.
Stutter stepped stupid.
Beauty of freedom.
Nature flexing possession.
Captivated.

my feet had barely greeted california
when my face matched the new summer,
cheeks blooming uneven,
eyes green as moss
and every face i glared upon
avoided looking too long.

walking through my least favorite airport
chin high, silent and ugly and wet,
i grieved for myself, i pitied my future, and mourned my past.
something lodged in my throat screamed with more assurance
and clarity and confidence than i have ever known
"this is not where i belong!"

i cried for my feet no longer squishing silica on white beaches
old skin disappearing in tiny fish
or kissing rainforest mulch, under-dressed in flipflops
taunting flora and fauna and fate

i cried for my skin, abused and bronzed
exfoliated in world heritage parks, the first shower in days
and oiled from water crossings in a run-down four wheel drive
a beard of blemishes i didn't bother to hide.

i cried for my ears, robbed of every accent,
of the crashing waves and roar of waterfalls,
or the same six songs played in every club in cairns
and the pterodactyl screech of flying foxes.

i cried for my hair, for my hands, for my nose.
i cried for my mouth and my tongue and my legs.

mostly, i cried for the death of laughter that started in the
pit of my stomach and rose up like carbonation
to my chest and my lungs and my neck and burst
like floodwaters in dorrigo
the elation and exhilaration and euphoria of being alive
that spilled out of me in screams and shrieks
and bubbled and flushed and insisted
so fiercely so strongly so urgently
that to relent was not even a choice but a right

and then half a year later
i sat dully in a fluorescent corridor at my transfer terminal
feeling my heart retreat, defeated
dreading the long months ahead
promising nothing but drudgery and boredom
letting the tears drip onto my boarding pass
black ink lamenting, too
and not a single person approached
or spoke to me
until i asked to wash away the moment
with a diminutive bottle of ***
a mile from the surface.

Throbbing heads thrash together,
sorting trash from treasure, and losing time.
I throw together an outfit and leave
my house to try to sort through the pieces
from my rattled mind.
Lines of sunlight break through
the trees and melt
molecules with memories, fusing together
the time I had lost.
I lay in bed, exfoliated and slain,
pondering the cost of each meltdown;
of new brains.
Thumping against the ticking clock,
sleep covers me like a childhood blanket,
and my life, much like a button on the back of a toy
which gets pricked by a paperclip,
resets itself.

there's a place for everything,
it's been said with stillest voice;
and everything has a place,
resonant clarity without rebuttal

yet who's to know which is which
when reckoning has flicked the switch?
where face value's swiftly defaced
conveniently with removing cream*



●○
°

Unenthusiastic in the undertones, my lovely,
Couldn't find the overtures to make
Lost the thread of all the actualities, my sweet
****** if I can find the strength to take.

For once I loved a King who said I couldn't,
He stole the very focus of my dream,
Amputated all with intensity, entailed,
Said expediency would cauterize, the scheme.

Speechless, nay with outrage, I exfoliated bare
Extolled the very essence of my ire,
Screamed his traitorous intent rendered my belief, spent,
My constituents now caste on the pyre.

Treachery suffered is treachery sent
It slices the heart like a knife,
Expediency spent incurs such discontent
That all trust is severed...for life.

M.
Taranaki, NZ
Feb 12 2021