Abandoned

An abandoned teacup sits forever,
forsaken in haste.
Pointless sockets
look down from the ceiling;
blank spaces
where there should have been light.

Random cobwebs
hang heavy with dust;
The broken down radio
is lost in busy muse -
struggles to detect a signal.

The stench of forgotten flesh
no longer bothers
stubborn skeletons,
who refuse to decay further.

Symbiosis

I drift in cheerfulness on cruise of life -
a voyage where the stretched horizon greets
the restless sea and never-ending sky.
These lazy waves splash 'cross my lazy hull -
make efforts, enliven this shiftless lull!
My trusty oars, once fueled by my sweat,
now lie removed of their ungainly flounce;
for gentle wafts of wind direct my mast,
though turbulent waters might lie unannounced
on our course, set for my Boat and the Man –
afloat, but seasoned in symbiosis!

On a Journey

My winsome babe lies cradled in my arms
as lonesome thoughts cloud up my brooding mind
to fritter and fret out this tranquil balm!
Sometimes a troubled leaf, I drift in floods,
float common sense betwixt confines of time,
keep watch on musings drifting down these banks!

In shelter of my arms, my little one
will blossom fine as years go cruising past
and seasoned with the wisdom of the world --
may years be be fair to you when you embark
on journeys far, to lands I've never known.
But my innings might not last for all your time.
Unnoticed, I will take your leave someday!

Fear not, my child! You'll find me by your side;
or when I look on you from starlit skies
or if the rules of after-life permit,
sometimes your dreams may see my face again.
My child hears naught; I'm just a nodding head
and all persuasions fall on absent ears;
is my fair child oblivious to my fears?

I know that hours never bind with clocks.
The seconds ticking on without regard!
Is it a reason born of senseless urge,
an absurd wish to live eternally? –
For strange ways of the timepiece can amaze;
unnoticed, hours swiftly cross this phase.
but staring at my clock face slows them down
when I regard the moments consciously.

In silent whispers - time, in parting grace,
decks up my sideburns adding wisps of gray,
my babe in carefree slumber lies withdrawn.
I’d fix my gaze to slow the summers down
and forsake all this reasoning for my fate!

The Village Idiot

He was, without a doubt, once strong and stout
when he had built this wall; his apple trees
bore fruit at ease withstanding winter storms.
But fifty years has passed; the plaster's peeled,
the brick's been scaled by kids of nearby huts.

Now on his morning walks, bones rattle hard
to shake his wizened frame when now and then
he finds a stone that's dislodged from his fence.
Eyes glare through shrunken skin on phantom bone
shakes veinous fist and screams in fangless pain.

Scapegoat

One day we saw them load a cargo van
that ran away - across the dusty land,
left smoky pillars blown in restless plumes
which settled ages after their car left.

My daughter's grown up; years she has put on
through natural reasons caused as time moves on.
They say the human brain's a amazing tool
can hide the memory from tides of time.

Their neighbour's kids disliked to play with him;
was it the bloated face or lack of grace -
we'll never know for sure. My six year old
came running home one day with tearful eyes.

And worried as i was, to find out if
she'd hurt herself with playful antics kids
at her age do, parental instincts then
deduced it must have been that wretched kid.

Overcoming Fears

The sodden soil begrimes the kneeling knees
of those who visit (few and far between)
some frail old tombstone setup by the trees,
inscriptions etched in lines of three and four
our happy choir boy sleeps all alone.
A plot of land reserved for Master Smith -
arrays of neighbours lie back in the gloom
in silence through a graveyard. Rest in peace!

I remember how afraid you were one night
when we came across the same arrays of stone.
The moon shone silver on your face - a sight
it was, all painted white; now white has turned
to grey epitaph. Of course, you transformed strange -
my friend met dusty death in lands of change!

To the eventual futility of Leadership

Drenched windows, incessantly falling rain
drops nervously wiggle past slippery glass,
Gravity claims the parabolic curve,
shear'd past three dimensions, down speeding train;
swarms sprinting to meet eventuality!

There are no legends here -
only politicians and dopey sidekicks.