Saturday, January 27, 2007
Friday, January 12, 2007
Future Calls
I see the gate
right here,
festooned withnetwork of grid iron,
empty bottle of malts and blends on the porch,
and a young fellow leanin at ease against the door post
spinning his yarns
of many colours.
The background noise,
conversations in a rally
wreathed up
n vanishing into air.
There is a one who lives here
on the scraps n leftovers
with luminous eyes prowled
the night on velvet feet.
Now a noisy hunchchair globetrotter
nose buried in a novel-
would look up
startled
at cawing crows on the electric pole
and recall a yesteryear basketball court
n relive over n over
a basket missed
the ball sailin' away
not heedin the referee's frantic whistle,
and crowded figures capering in the credit column of life's ledger.
There is a gate
right here,
festooned with Corpus Delecti.
And now-
nothing.
somewhere, gap in the wall
pierced by some shell
a few shattered bricks,
not much to weep for
and some memories
fading behind the television
and nothing else.
I drop
the ashes with a finger,
sure
a phoenix will arise.
A smile
flash,full
And life
full of happiness
full of love....