a night without darkness
lustrous moon sweeps
horizon..opaline, the meeting
between day and night..
in the imperceptible silence
of aloneness
and the wildly pathetic
indescribable yearning
of reveries that refuse to perish
The immortal soul of my dreams
lost in the wistfulness of pathos
the haunting persistence of
a heart that refuses to find
any other speech than poetry.
I lose myself in my words
my words absorb
my infinite imaginings
I cannot be sad for too long
Fate simply cannot keep me down
My heart always comes up with a song
I wear optimism like a crown.
Life is but a short lived boon
Hardships have made me plucky
I forgive and forget too soon
I call myself happy go lucky.
My cheerfulness sometimes puts people off
They ask me, “why do you laugh and smile so much”
My light-heartedness makes them scoff
Sorrow is there, it will always touch.
But I feel fortunate and blessed
When I look around and see so much unrest.
in the quietness
the evening dewdrops fall
soothing languid leaves
moonbeams pierce the gloaming;
i write a poem for you
#tanka
(4/6/4/6/6)
unspoken syllables
choreograph into
sensations of motion
flow like skein
against mind
discretions
like a gypsy child
in bohemian haze
traversing
amorphous thoughts
I unravel..
I came alone
and leave behind only
words.
I used my pen as a parachute
Flew into the sky in a paper suit
Played with birdies in a blue playground
The clouds decided on a shakedown
Throwing us all into a waterchute.
limeyrick
dying colors of the day
as blossoms fall at twilight
fragrance of bruised petals
the scent of a goodbye.
#dodoitsu
Like an odyssey
Words rendezvous into a
renaissance to purge
The synsthesization of
Paranoid innuendos,
Woes morph into life’s
Unending blasphemies that
Taint, purity is
Sent spiralling into a
Storm of mental disarray.
The outpouring —
Words press themselves into the
Pages of a book.
pseudo smiles
naked thoughts
tongues can’t hold
half truths
a subterfuge of truth
lies reinvented
by misogynist hypothesis
the misguided complacent
live in cliches
set by narcissist society
norms pandering
to secondary emotions of
a power order manifestation
A Machiavellianistic persuasion
where enlightenment is torched
a humanity living
a pretentious clique
sacred is gone..
in the wordless silence
that slides like silk
through a nomadic night
the night takes no pause
in the delirium of slumber
dreams percolate fragility
of subconscious
as
elderberry inked sonants
evaporate into a
mildewed sky that props up
a lychee peeled moon..
I pick cereus blooms for you
and wonder, what of the tides?
yaskhan 
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