TRANSITONS

Confusion and delusion screams from an eroded place,

Sprays of wisdom liven my private space,

Dragged back from the shore by the sea waves,

Into the deep sea for days.

I fall back upon my bare back uncluttered,

Listen to chants of those who believe in cosmic settlers,

I float on brisks of scented perfumes in the mist,

I drown in the puddle thoughts not on my list.

I ride the wind and find the meaning,

throw it around wait to bounce and regurgitate,

Inhale exhale, deceive device and portray my self,

Single and alone behind the stone hurried to hell.

Climbing up my ladder, I reach a roof,

High as the mounts of abyss,

As I skyward proceed, my ambition rises,

Grasp for air, and lose my spirit breath .

Silence,

Silence,

faint vibrations,

Hissing wind,

Gentle breeze,

Clear sky,

Distant rain.

I run through, fall through,

I wake to a beat, then two,

All that was, has now become old.

MENtal comforts and intolerance

Mr. Mosquito! You are so wonderful,

you can do wonders and do it so while you wander,

Beneath the dark shades and tangled laces,

around the spaces and grass full terraces,

Oh! you can inflict a wound and inflict it so delicately,

So effective and so mortifying,

Yet so seem to be bring no mental discomfort.

Many who see you do not judge you,

They would just choose not to let you,

They spray clouds over your hovering space,

Loot you over and over again.

But you come!

Like a guerrilla, silent acapella,

You will not let her,

Sleep beneath her shelter,

Taking the weakest and the mightiest.

What could be more wonderful than your wings,

flapping with freedom and speed.

I remember, now when I was well,

You came and came so deceitfully,

You wretched my being and my liver,

You made me shiver,

I hated you and I do now so ever,

Well I will not tolerate you never,

Your sisters will perish in this weather,

Guided by my voice of intolerance.

Faint laughter, smirks there after,

Silence returns, tables turned,

we sleep in our minds,

finding voids of discomfort,

waiting for how long,

should we tolerate this strong,

Force of nature,

till we chance upon,

rival so weak, that our minds,

Only took a week,

To be washed of reason.