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Poems

This Home Of Yours

This poem is dedicated to all those who have, and still are selflessly caring for us during that pandemic time. To my mother. To everyone else who love like a mother. To Mother Earth. Happy Mother’s Day to everyone.

           This Home Of Yours

Mothers know every parts of their child, 
Reared under the hands of affection 
All of our afflictions vanish away
Everything in us soothes gently

Because of you I feel so rich
Because of you I feel so strong
Because of you I dream too much

Mothers care lovingly, expansively
Their breath annihilates monsters
Their heart imprisons our aches
And their skin is a mantle that protects

Because of you I am me
Because of you the sky looks different
Because of you I live wildly

Mother, your eyes are immense lakes
In which I mirror myself every day,
Behind your eyes love hovers
And I remember love and doves 

Because of you I heal
Because of you life extends
Because of you everything matters

I recall sitting in your lap
Even when I was all grown up
And how I hold my children 
So as to kiss them tenderly 
Is all because of you, mother 

Because of you I know generosity
Because of you I know good humour
Because of you I want to be

And how your eyes proudly glitter
Makes me want to do more
While the remembrance of your smile
Will always take me home.

You can read more poems that I’ve written for Mother’s Day via these links:

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Poems

Mother’s Day Mini Poems

If you’ve enjoyed the pieces that I have written for Mother’s Day, here are two links to poems that I wrote so as to celebrate motherhood:

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Poems

Poetry Shower

My soul only craves poetry lately. Writing fiction takes a lot of my time – re-writes, re-reads, and re-edits… lots of struggle, only to find that I don’t bring anything new to the table; that what I write has already been written by others; that my ideas are not at all ingenious. So I guess that it is time for me to quit writing stories, and to focus more on writing poems.

Poetry Shower

It has been raining all day today
And the gray clouds paint the sky,
In the South, flash floods
In our heart, it's blue and morose

It has been raining all day today
But all I really wanna do
Is to shower you with poetry
So that you might stay warm
Inside words made of sunlight

It has been raining in my heart lately
And water erased all of my words,
My creativity became destructive
My body, a vessel of pain

It has been raining in my heart lately
But all I really wanna do
Is to touch this water image
And to carry us towards the sunlight
Towards warmth and towards what's gold

It has been raining today
Water droplets dot the plants
While the birds continue to sing
Safe within the leaves of trees

It has been raining today
And all I wanna do
Is to write of what I see and feel
So as to shower you with poetry
While Sunday eclipses away the rain.

Eiravel
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Poems

What Calms Me

There are those sceneries, people, and actions that naturally appease my mind when things go wrong, or when life seem so frightening. And in the end, I’ll tell to myself that no matter what, the beauty of nature remains there for us all to appreciate existence.

Windy full moon night. Palma. I love night gazing.
What Calms Me 

The scenery of Little birds fledling
And of heightened waves gliding
The sounds of winds during a tempest
And of creatures going on a quest -
They abate my heart on a windy day

The little children playing
Of their little eyes shimmering
At the least object that falls
And of the tree that's so tall -
They abate my heart on a windy day

Of lonesome journeying couples
With peculiar allure, who mumble
Of secrets that I wanna hear, and
About how they became to each other so dear -
They abate my heart on a windy day

Of the one who passionately sings
And of the other one who paints things
While another writes a poem a story
The immortal artist's work that frees -
They abate my heart on a windy day

Of the hands that compose
And those that dance close,
Passionately, breathlessly, heavenly
And of all souls that make a city -
They abate my heart on a windy day.

Eiravel
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Poems

The Colours Of Our Dream

That’s the second year that our children won’t chant and glorify in unison our national anthem for the independence day of Mauritius. Things have worsened here, the coronavirus has suddenly spread, and everyday there are more people that are being tested positive. We’ve got the vaccines, but not many people did it in time. So, even though we’re in the middle of a tumult, I hope that we don’t forget that we are facing this pandemic together – as one people, as one nation, and I pray that we all make it safe.

Dreamed Colours

Red, blue, yellow, green
Colours of our dream
A dream about unity
While hand in hand we go
As to make that dream a reality

My skin tone, your skin tone
As we watch the sky at dawn,
And it seems that our skin
Is of same nuance under our sky
That Mauritian sky where we all fly

The grandeur of our exotic spirit
Our fervency and hearty wit
That smile that welcomes
Our arms that joyfully open
Our eternal love for our motherland

Our fall, our rise, our defeat
Our song, our dance, all these deeds
But always together, in group we go
Towards the sunrise and the ocean flow
And coconut, mangoes, letchis as feast

Sega dance and songs, bhojpuri dance and songs
Langaze madam serré, Tialbert
Lacaze tôle, race mélanzé
Proud, proud nation we are
Happy, a happy nation we remain
Mixed roots that grow wildly
On a little island called Mauritius.

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Poems

That’s What Women Are

Happy Women’s day. I hope that all women secretly thinks alike, and that this poem – compared to women, I compare thee, and brave womanhood – drools with the quintessence of women’s sensuality, and as well as women’s yearnings.

That's What Women Are

Big bright stars in space
A large shinny crown on our head
Sitting, on the highest of all chairs
Adored, loved, all time long

Women, always our star rises
We are, the turn on symbol
The milky way, in between our legs
A wild blue diamond, in space

Our woumb, a curving dome
Inside, that egg of yours,
The yolk, of this existence
That soil, which welcomes your root

We are, fermented sweet fruits
That keep them, oh so drunk
And with our mouth, we devour the space
And with our teeth, we tear up the sky

Women, always oh so misunderstood
Afflicted, by those hormones
These chemicals, that burn inside us
Morph us, into the women we are

That's what women are
Wild wide stretching skins
Who cloth, this infinite body
Staring down, at what's earthly

Our love, is locked in our breast
That we open, when love's needed
Our lovely bosom, is so warm
That just one night, in our arms
Can instantly, melt your heart

That's what, a woman is,
The deep jar, of your heart
The one, who waits patiently
The one, who forgives everything
The one, who loves abundantly.

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Poems

Of Belonging

“I wanted to embody the emotions I feel about ‘abandonment’, the word that I’ve chosen so as to write this poem.”


Of Belonging

Abandonment, what a sad word
For the living and this world
Everyday something is tossed away
Without chance of returning someday

Winds blow and rivers stream
While every creature dreams
Of belonging, of being cared for
And most, without wanting more

I want my whole self to be cherished
All of my thoughts unleashed
Living that good life unchained
Not a single piece of me thrown in a drain

We are a species born without furs
Our skin heated during summers
We can’t be abandoned creatures
For death awaits our fragile nature

How come we need to be dearly loved
To be wanted and be the beloved
And die in the hands of abandonment
Becoming monsters without good guidance

Somewhere someday we will remember
That we all need to be treasured
That we are connected through woumbs and oceans
And that the cries of those abandoned
Are achingly felt through our emotions.

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Poems

To Carry Me Away, Away

A metaphor for stubbornness – a characteristic that fits me well.

To Carry Me Away, Away 

To abandon oneself
Just for once
To give myself
To the good ones,
To close my eyes
As to be blind
And letting it and all
Carry me away, away

Why can't I let me be -
A mechanized thing
Where still the bird fly
And everything living is free,
Where we still sing
And live through a lie
With visions of strong winds
That carry me away, away

Why all my stubbornness
All are living breathing
But in my head it's merely;
I can see my heart degress
Stagnation is that one thing
That causes the fear in me,
A tension a frustration
It buries me deeply, deeply

How shall I say
How will I wave
To the world to you
That I've lost something
While I was rebelling
As to set myself free;
As to find the escape door
To carry me away, away

My inner-war made sounds
My inner-war was an exhaustion
But inside I found
Another type of dimension,
The things that unfold
While it whispered it told
A secret, a truth, a lie
To carry me away, away.
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Poems

Twenty Twenty One

It’s a bright new year🎉


Exactly, twenty twenty-one


It came out from twenty twenty


A year that we shall forever remember


A year of transition, of shift


The point in time the door opened


For the future to creep in deep


Without us even realizing the deed


Too busy with pandemics and threats


Apocalyptic hues burning the sky

Might be the universe upgrading

Who will ever know about the scheme

Perhaps a spell, perhaps a curse

A strange type of madness that took over.

Hence, to all that silently departed

On that spaceship that had been waiting

That hovered silently, being on standby

To all that have collapsed on the ground

And hurt themselves so badly, achingly

My heart follows them, they carry me.

It’s a bright new year

Exactly, twenty twenty-one

Perhaps we leaped in time

To erase from our fragile memory

The traumatism of twenty twenty

All of the scars it left on us

When Pandora opened her jar.

It’s a bright new year

Exactly, twenty twenty-one

And I hope, we all make it safely.

Firecrackers in the night sky

This time, compared to my former New Year’s poems, I tried to dig within the speculation realm as to come up with this poem, for it seems that all of the bad energies, from every plane and every dimension, crossed/converged/synergised at that point in time, which was 2020. How strange, beautiful, but also frightening to find these lone stars/planets/light or whatever else travel such long distances as to meet, to intersect, to harmonise, to unite, as on their way they shackle and trouble us, little mere mortals (I love me some astrology🔮).

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Poems

The smell of fresh pines

The smell of fresh pines


The smell of fresh pines
Tickle my olfactory memory;
Instantly everything shines
Everything comes back to me

My heart travels back to infancy
And recollect all the joy, the laughter,
All the colors of that day I see –
And watch happily as it remembers

Oh that scent of fresh pines
It is a time travel machine
That takes me and my mind
In a beautiful Christmas dream

Those magical moments return
And I forget about the pandemics
And of everything else that hurts
Of everything that adds to the ache mix

Then unfolds in front of my eyes
The gifts, the warmth of love
A festive ambiance of big size
Happiness, when I open our treasure trove

So let the magical spirit of December
Float inside of our tired heart
And might the pines make us remember
The Christmas of our childish heart.


For the two Christmas poems I wrote in 2018, and 2019, I was inspired by the contagious festive mood of the buzzing month of December; moved by the spirit of Christmas and New Year. But this time, it was a little bit difficult for me to come up with something positive, with something that might alleviate our stress concerning the state of the world, the brokenness of things, our uneasy feelings, covid-19, unemployments, and all of the fake news, and infos hidden to us, and everything else… and of everything else. Thus I thought about what mainly automatically triggers my remembrance of those good’ol days, and it was the smell of fresh pines.

So, merry Christmas to all of you. I hope that we all might enjoy this little moment of respite.

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Poems

You Shall See

Flic-en-flac beach sunset
Black & White Sea
Moon glow
Sunset

Yesterday I was thinking about the ocean and its creatures, but also about the darkness that prevails on this vast moving space when the sky is dark at night, mainly during a lunar eclipse. Thus I was inspired to write this surrealistic poem. I haven’t changed the words that came to my mind when I actually imagine this scene; the stream of consciousness type. Yep, I don’t even wanna know why the future tense, and why a beach in the mouth, or even who I’ll be taking out at sea tonight . . . lol

You Shall See

Tonight, I’ll take you out at sea
And you shall see the moon
Shimmering over its surface,
You’ll gently lay in my arms
And I’ll read to you a story
You’ll be looking up
And all the bright stars
Shall smile at you, then
All the deep sea creatures
They’ll swim up to us
Bioluminescent, and magnificent
Perhaps you’ll caress one
And it shall kiss your hand,
I’ll continue reading
While sea foams enter your mouth
And as the salt shall dissolve on your tongue
Your mouth shall become the beach
On which, I shall lay to read
And sleep and dream

Tonight, I’ll take you out at sea
And you’ll see, this vast territory
Extending itself wide and far
Finishing, at the horizon line,
You’ll want to go there
To swim as far as your eyes can see
But I’ll kiss you, ardently
With my salty lips made of waves
And you’ll forget, you’ll forget
This want to escape to be free

Tonight, I’ll take you out at sea
But this time, I’ll tell you something
A tale, which it is, exactly,
The whole sky shall be dark
There’ll be no light for you to see
The opaqueness shall engulf everything seen —
Whole cities behind us
The wild sea underneath us
And the horizon in front of us
You will be afraid, when you shall see
But don’t you forget, that I’ll be there
On the beach, in your tongue
There, when you shall see.

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Poems

Heal

Write, read, drink fruit & herbal black tea, contemplate flowers… heal

Today I thought of flowers blooming
Wildly, beautifully, in the fertile soil
Their strong roots fiercely stretching
Till that secret place, that wild garden

And while musing, I became a flower
That had for mother, earth, nature
And for father, the sky, the universe
I was cherished, loved, cared for
Or should I say :
I am healthy, I am becoming
I am loved, I am cherished

The evil that gnaws me, that eats my body
It suddenly disappears, it vanishes
It cowers away in the dark, in the shadow

That hungry thing, then, with my peace
I gave it away to the wind
I gave it away to the sea, to the lake
I just, gave it away, letting it fly
Where perhaps, and from the bottom of my heart,
With hope too, and wishes too
That it will find beauty on its own
That it will learn the worthiness of love
And feel all the emotions that surge
When loving, and while being loved
And slowly but surely recycle itself
Into a soothing thing, incarnating the love
That paints tears and heartaches
With the vivid divine colors
Of all these beautiful blooming flowers.

It’s been two weeks since I haven’t written down anything. I am busy editing my book of poems, and my mind is a little bit tired too. Thus, I had decided that there will be no post today. Instead, I thought of sharing on my social media last year’s poem, titled Mindscape, which I had written for Pink October Breast Cancer Awareness month. But while writing some lines in the carnet meant to appear in the picture setting for this Pink October photo, inspiration struck, and I was able to write this little poem.

I know it’s hard right now. With coronavirus and all the rest… But we need positive waves more than ever before… and I hope that I am doing my part here.

Thank you to whoever might be reading this post. I hope it gets a little bit better for you, for us, for me, for the whole humanity.

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Poems

Silver lines in the sky

Silver Lines In The Sky

Peace came home, to me
While I laid in my bed
Thinking, of silver lines in the sky,
They were dancing oh so freely
While they brightly burned their light

T’was morning, birds were singing merrily
When peace came home, to me
Clothed of silver lines, that shone brightly
Such elegance, it appeased my heart
Such emmited spark, it erased the dark

The sky was plentiful of silver lines
And peace revealed its face to me
It was hiding itself amongst silver lines
These silver lines in the sky
While all these clouds flew by

Suddenly these silver lines shapeshifted
And peace suddenly appeared as a being
A gigantic one, a net of silver lines
It walked passed me, touching my face
It was spirit, and I was all amazed

I followed it till the vast ocean
And there, it mingled with the water
The ocean became sprightly, filled of peace
And in my mind I ran and plunged
Where peace I breathed within my lungs

Peace came home, to me
While I laid on my bed
Thinking, of silver lines in the sky.

                                …

I was recently shuffling through the pages of the encyclopedia of magical creatures, and those words by the mythological Morrigan instantly fired up my inspiration to write this poem, which, compared to peace, please, is more visceral, more about the personalization of the emotions I felt on the moment where I imagined those silver lines hovering in the sky, triggered by the lines ‘peace up to heaven, heaven over earth, earth under heaven, peace in everyone’.

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Poems

Everything that I might be

Though able-bodied, I feel this incapacity
The incapacity to shake myself up
Right from the start, when the sun rises
For I wake up to forget, everything that I might be

I then search within my mind
This wondrous mind of mine
Forking deeply, digging, searching
For that missing piece hidden deep,
That one clue that I need to find

I want to remember when day comes
As the sun showers its light upon the world
To remember all of my movements
Of my first sound and view
Of the first waves and its foams
Reminiscing about those lost hours
And eidolons, first cities, of faces
And of the cyclope slowly opening its eye
While it sees this world for the first time,
Sinking deep to become ours

I know I’ll search endlessly
While my body and mind grows
On top of mountains, over seas and lands
Everyday I’ll learn to construct
As to one day rise up and remember
Everything that I might be.

 

I am obsessed about the beginning of existence and knowledge of one-self, fascinated by all of these layers that seem to shrink inside the smallest dot that might be.

 

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Poems

Cosmic Death Of The Lover

Black white photo of flowers in a bottle, a mug of black coffee, cosmic doodles, and a handwritten note
Inspired by NEOWISE, comet that recently apperead in our sky. I hope that one day I’ll be able to see one.

The girl went on singing
Along the road, gushing
The lover merely speaking
Mesmerized, fascinated, adoring.
The girl then danced lovingly
While the moon shone brightly
And where her skin her body
Became transparent and shiny.
Suddenly the lover was scared
As the girl loved flew in the air
The lover thought it a snare
Standing at the verge of nowhere.
Her body was stellar bright
Lighting the sky of that night,
Singing prettier with all her might
Beaming to the lover a warm light.
Frightened, the lover ran away
Certain that it was a dark fay
For dark ones emit more light
That’s what they say
Thus feared to never see another day.
The cosmic body persued
As it sprinkled and spewed
Fairy dust filled of lewd
For the lover to be lured.
The lover ran and ran and ran
Horrified while it beamed closer
Terrified as it shot nearer and nearer.
She, was not anymore their lover
She was now a blazing flame
A girl now estranged.
Her long hair became a tail
A fiery comet that sailed.
In the end she burned and died,
The malefice away flied
As the lover forever cried
While their day became forever night.

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Poems

Our Anthurium Like Heart



All races give out rays of light
Under a sun that rises for everyone
And stars that shine brightly for everybody.

And what about the plants, the trees?
Same too, you see, they appeal to all of us –
We’re just different colors, sizes, & shapes
Different types of body embodiment.

The ocean rests there, extending itself till horizon
For the eye of everyone who surrenders to beauty
And for those that mesmerize at the miracle of life.

And then it dawns on everyone, everything
As our tears look alike like diamonds
That cascade down on those cheeks of us
While our Anthurium like heart blooms in same soil.

I would tell you too of the beauty of our variances,
Of all these mysteries that make us up
And of that blood like magma that streams in us –
That unfortunately erupts oftently, with ache and hate.

I don’t hate you brother, I don’t hate you sister –

My whiteness, my blackness, my yellowness, my redness,
My coffeeness, my greenness, my contrasts, my uniqueness.

I don’t hate you brother, I don’t hate you sister –

My querness, my disabilities, my loveliness,
Our weaknesses, our weaknesses, our weaknesses.

I don’t hate you brother, I don’t hate you sister –

We are only one tiny drop in that ocean of life,
Making one member, linked, linked.

And when I finally go to rest, I return to our ocean, mingling as one.

I love you brother, I love you sister.

                             /

If you see the uniqueness, if you see beauty, if you see intelligence, if you see the richness, if you see the love, in everybody else, then you’ll be beautiful, you’ll be intelligent, you’ll be rich, you’ll be loved, you’ll be unique. These are the magical words I silently repeat everyday in my head – that one law of attraction that I try to practice, though how difficult it is.

Perhaps I am the leaf, perhaps a bud, or the root, that holds on firmly to a stem. Or perhaps a hand, a finger, a tiny cell, a little bacteria – a function of that one body!

I think that the anthurium plant is an interesting metaphor to describe the human race . . . don’t you think so?

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Poems

A Musical World

black and white photography of an acoustic guitar laid on silky cloth
My husband’s guitar
Let the rhythmic waves 
Come through to you —
Through your chest 
Through your breath 
Annihilating your weakness.
Let these sounds dance through  
Inside out, elevating you 
Setting that mind free 
As you liberate and you escape.
Open your heart wide 
And let the music rain inside
Making one with the storm
Tuning in into it, peacefully.
Let everything become melodious 
To find that heart of yours appeased 
While you become the softness 
Through which the music irradiates.
Come with me, take my hand 
And let's bound with the rhythm 
Feel, yes feel the depth of oceans 
Rising tides that become one beat —
The ultimate musical ocean 
Where we all birthed out;
Out of the vibrational chord of liberance
Right till here, in this world 
Filled, full, and fueled, with music.
The hum of wind, the echo of rain 
The symphony of crushing waves 
All sonorous, so musical.
Let the rhythmic waves
Come through to you —
Through your chest
Through your breath
Annihilating your weakness.

Today the 21st of June, the world celebrates music day, so, Happy Music Day to everybody. In the poem the paragon of music I wrote that music stays with me, even during the worst days of my life; and in such a time of great trouble, where stressful situations and heartaches gloom the sky, we still have music, isn’t it? Music which is without barrier. Music which is without color. Music which doesn’t make us sick. Music, which is indistinctive.

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Poems

My Mom, The Wren

red roses and a happy mothers day note
Happy mothers day to all of you

Your smile leads me again to where I began my life,
Your gentleness touches me deep, healing my wounds,
Your embrace, though am a grown up, cradle me tight,
And in this endless night of mine, your bright light looms.
Often, I want to creep back within your warm womb,
And become again that little baby wiggling inside of you,
As perhaps then, I dreamt of love all day through,
While I am sheltered, inside of your nurturing cocoon –
And for nine months, you safely carried me around,
In the end, you painfully delivered me to the world.
As your memories were mine to touch, my mind hurled,
And in my mouth, the milk of life springing from your breast,
Feeding me fire, where I knew I could safely rest,
As you sang to me an eternal sound, I perhaps knew then
That I would forever carry you inside of me, like a wren.

Thank you mother. I love you very much.

These days I am very busy indeed. I hope to get the time to write a blog post about the short story I’ve been writing recently, and of everything new that I’ve learned while trying to finish it in time for submission, and of the new story idea (for the Darcocyte series) that bloomed in my mind while writing it; but also about my new engagement that will be taking much of my time. Until then, take care.

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Poems

A Beautiful Enchantment

A poem for the 50th anniversary of “Earth day”

Blue lagoon and cliffs
Natural features of Earth – Le Souffleur, Mauritius
Earth, I love you, for my eternal seed roots into you 
Earth, you revolve, while the sea dissolves into you 
Earth, you evolve, while everything else dies within you 

Your belly is a jar that nurture everything that's alive
Your belly is a petri-dish where we all dive 
Your belly is a pathway, where we all drive

This little planet, pale blue dot, so fertile and damp
This little planet, rich with variances of life and lands 
This little planet, so colorful, so full with things that ramp

And your big arms, hug us, mortal as we are
And your big arms, cradle us, bad as we are 
And your big arms, protect us, fragile as we are 

How lovely for us to live inside of your dream 
How lovely to exist, just to exist, swimming in your stream
How lovely to open our eyes as to find us, in your rim 

Earth I do love everything that you contain —
The sea, the sun, the sky, the lands, this wellspring, 
You see, you hear, and I know of all the love that remain
While you watch in silence, with adoration, your everything 

Earth, what a beautiful enchantment you are 
Earth, you are a treasure chest that contains all 
Earth, your secret, the chamber inside, your half dark 
Earth, I am silent, and in this silence I watch you grow whole.

Happy Earth day to all. I hope you are all safe out there. Earth is going through a harsh winter, and where the summer, as for every other seasons, will soon come around again, and perhaps, with some new types of plant shrouding here and there. Until then, stay inside, for fairies and other magical creatures don’t like humans seeing them working on upgrades, or fixing up broken things…loll

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Poems

The Sequential Dream I Made Of An Abacus

😩I am busy these days – helping my children with their lessons at home, writing, and masterminding new plans. And yes, my dreams are often very weird… most of the time with calculations, which in reality are my worst nightmare.

i

I try to count –
One, two, three, four, five, six Learning calculation;
Take that one bead I found,
And plus one more around,
There you are, it makes a two.

On my wooden abacus, there I slide the beads,
Red, Blue, Yellow, Green,
Learning calculation.
There pops out the numbers in colors,
In my twinged mind filled with confusion.

These all that gives what’s equal,
Trying to confuse my mind even more,
What I may say about it –
I and the world of digits don’t get along very well,
I prefer the formulations
That emanates from alphabets.

ii
The arithmetician tried to show me the realm of all his calculations,
Ideas that intersect to make a web,
The power of the alphanumeric.
But my mind dreams in images,
Which is much less boring than the mathematician’s integers;
But then, what secrets link those that see
Beyond the forms of things. Spit out,
Beyond the numbers. Chewed out,
Beyond the sentences. Flamed out.

iii
There stood I pale and incensed,
With my mind blowing out nums;
Blowing out nums I don’t logicize.
My mind’s nestle the mistake of logic,
Logic that strays into that dreamer’s eyes,
Eyes that’s black contoured of fatigue
And of the concentration to answer
to nullify or equalize,
I found it was all of a nightmare
My abacus in my bare hands
I try to count, dreamily senseless.

iv
The abacus sits on the corner of a desk
The child needs me to help them count,
My bed is still a mess when days break
And my heart pulls out like daunt
Seriously thinking that it’s no fun

I slide the colorful playful beads
On the wooden abacus that still sits
In a little corner of a white office
Whose circled panes seem to miss
Of the warmth of the throning sun

In the end, with the abacus at hand
I teach un-merry to the curious child
Some calculations that seem to bend
Unrevealed matrices that openly hide
More of coming formulations undone

The abacus sits in the corner of a desk
Alongside some books and other carnets;
Carnets that the child curiously open
Happy now am I, till the coming dusk
To read merrily, holding my pen.