28 February 2011

the blood sings otherwise

the blood sings otherwise. the birds that nest in your body, the wind that sounds like a lullaby in your body and the voice that speaks of a language of magical signs, they all sing otherwise. a breeze is a whirlwind, birds are the agonized calls of freedom and the magical signs are the perfumed drops of existence that call for the destruction of the self. the blood sings otherwise. through the deception and the violence of a friend, through the love and the violence of a woman, the blood sings and speaks otherwise.

2 comments:

  1. oh so many!
    some naked, shivering
    looking askance at the loss
    through no fault of theirs

    oh so many!
    some magnificently naked
    strutting like the proverbial emperor
    his clothes woven by their own hands

    oh so many!
    poor little naked souls
    knowing not what plucked them
    out of their warm blankets

    oh so many!
    angry pesky naked pests
    rising a din n cry
    at the invaluable loss

    but all look down
    have to, at the end,
    and find themselves
    one amongst millions

    these of the same feathers
    are different breed of birds
    they see each other
    and they see not at all

    for, if they flock together
    the prominence of I vanishes
    hurtling them down to earth
    to a sure fatal collision

    so they look at their feet
    and nowhere else
    at the fallen feathers
    the emperor's robes.

    ReplyDelete