Am I the only one feeling black and white
In such a colorful world?
The only one drifting with the waves
In tales, they say you're the master of your sea,
But I seem like the worst kind of greedy
Not knowing what I'm greedy for.
So I take all I’m given and claim it as mine.

Sorry if I sounded low before,
I was tangled in my thoughts.
I couldn’t see around me
The world can be so draining sometimes.
We riding its waves,
Get lost sometimes in the storm.
But honestly,
We don’t even need a storm to lose our way.

Darkness, face of the deep spirit,
The god that is absurdity.
How can there be blasphemy
When there is no understanding?
Willful, indignant ignorance—
The hammer that nailed the cross at Golgotha,
And will do so again.
The earth was but a formless void,
And then there was light.
It was good.
But in the light, we lost the face of God,
And the face of truth.



.

Glib rhetoric concerned with  striking independence may seem frivolous,
nuanced rational quite often a typical traumatic casualty,
the once interminable interdependent passionate zeal disintegrating in rapid spasms,
a longing sated and mutually embraced by two compatible persons now collapsed,
indivisibility transformed or transforming into invisibility and the direction sadly inevitable,
aftermath of intensity level shock to pitiless essence,
recovery initial or eventual appearing an amorphous  transit flight  hazy prospect,

Eating, one of life’s fine joys
one reflects on  food
stirs the digestive juices
taunt  the hunger
of friends and neighbours
relish the
meal

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Tears, they flow as giddy gushing streams,
and meddle with our innate sense of joy,
seamlessly they interface cod emotions,
whirlpool laughter smother trite notions,
smirking bogus rivulet, weeping willow branch,
to that toxic ocean known as hollow mirth

Minds soft and simple
Senses taken over by the night
By the sleep, by the high

Voices quiet and curious
Hushed by those unawake
  Questions asked and not yet answered

Bodies close together, calm and uncaring
Arms wrapped and hands wandering
Searching for signs, searching to be searched

Lips sofly escaping shallow breaths
Move closer, unsure of what comes next
Lips meet, the air mattress creaks
And friends are friends no more

Dream of smooth craft   dulcet verse as is my wont,
but such folly bears  barred grid smirk,
profound perfume of, meandering willingness an adventuress wayfarer,
immerse yourself in velvet vales extant when presenting oneself,
idle musing is a feeble pursuit not rectifiable nor  fruitful either,
the pursuit of wobbly craft as of popular endorsement disregard,
tap alternatively  into the zestfulness of  silken sibilant surround,
relish harbours awash with mythic mists,
delve into cityscapes of ample architecture,

I said-
I wouldn’t touch the pen,
No ink would be available in
my three fingers

Though this was not a solemn oath
Yet it was obstinacy-
Not to relate me to the paper and table

But wherever I see you-

A drizzling symphony
knocks my inner door

A harmonious music
dances on my heart’s bed

A lyrical poem
wanders holding my soul

The Song Offerings leads me
to you to be you only

©Mahtab Bangalee/2025_April