Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Promise premise

Call me from the high throne.
Make sure your voice reaches me on the phone.
I'm not hard of hearing
but I do like for sound to seep,
and to penetrate
real deep.

Drop your string of yarn
in cascading fluid curls.
Pour that viscous mix
up the chute.
Shoot your bull's eye
at point blank range
and fill up the space
with neurons
that sparkle.

Twinkling eyes, they see,
and gleam in my sockets.
Gleaning data packets
osmotically and
gravitationally.

PRemise: my name is Mihir.
Powers latent in me
suffer silently
in a self-imposed state
of dormancy and sterility
due to a diffidence
born out of their being stationed
in an unviable, hostile environment.
I don't feel kindred with my co-fauNA.

But rest assured, O Conscience,
that I will succeed in persuading
you to seek and find your fulfillment
in your lot. And if you cannot
give up your asphyxiating obduracy,
I will create for you
an environment you will be
enticed to blossom in.

Monday, June 4, 2012

Armed rosary

Step away from that pot of gold.
It's mine, in case you didn't know.
Be along on your thieving stroll.
My beans for you won't grow.

I stalk my predators.
My viagra runs in their fangs.
In my veins, a myriad nectars course.
I scheme from behind my bangs.

Your arrows fall limp like dead poodles.
Flat, long and impotent.
I suck down the bowlful of noodles.
The china plate has a gulp-shaped dent.

Manning the ring are my minions.
They number six-and-infinity.
They wield scimitars and pinions.
I'm geared for divinity.

I know you were daring a heist.
But that was before you knew about us.
Begone before I set on you my feist.
The hound will ravage you without fuss.

Breath by breath, I thrive with my knack.
The more you fume, the more toasty I get.
Bred for potency, my bricks I stack.
Let go of my puzzle; that's my jigsaw set.

Peace be with you.
Be with me if you will.
Know that I want my space and my view.
I shall exercise my skill.