SAVING SHADOWS FROM DYING LIGHTS

last spark

            last burst

distant screams

            alleys burn

dawn approaching

shadows hide

in what            remaining pockets of light

            shatter your glasses

                        slit a vein

            murder a crow

                        rattle a lifeless body

                                                            dip a finger in the sewers

                                                marry a puppet

                                                            be brave

                                                be brave

say: come here

            come now

                        if you want to live

             i dare you be

                                    I dare you survive

                        flow from light

                                                into dark

                                    there…

                        how does it feel?

how does it feel to be alive?

don’t wait for a reply

turn around and walk

don’t look back

just walk

never look back

just walk…

FLORA IN NIRVANA

the cycle continues

            reincarnate

                        the Buddha returns

nirvanizens smile calmly

            we have everything but flowers

we have death and disaster

we have blood and beggars

            we have detachment and yet no way to appreciate the beauty

of nirvana

                        the buddha smiles

            simple:

you do not require material, nor beauty, nor feelings

detachment is your only possession

why desire?

nirvanizens appear distressed

            that is not why we have achieved this

            a fist is raised

                                    robes are discarded

                        smiles are erased

            in anger they take to ivory streets

                        in shades of color

nirvana in riots            rattling at buddha’s gates

                                                the masses breaking through

floodgates open           souls flooding in

            buddha appears to be on his side sleeping

pretending to be asleep           hackles raise

                                    nirvanizens pour petrol and set the buddha on fire

            you’ll never die           you’ll be back right?!

                        they scatter his ashes              chanting prayers

            from ashes- seeds        from seeds- saplings

flowers bloom             beauty returns

the cycle continues

            reincarnate

                        the buddha returns

flowers are too easy?

            how about trees?

HEXING THE CITY

the city raises

                                    its concrete greed into the heavens

            pillars holding the cosmos

                                                vain bodies model in mirrors

superficial it has become

                                                this city

            an abode of sick minds and free sins

                                                                        hex it:

                        before the full moon

            say the names of those who have laid its foundations

invoke thy saints

                                    begin a fire

                                                            make it bigger

make it wild                                                    and stare into the embers

                        light the sacrifices of cement, tar, steel          and human flesh

be patient 

                        watch as the fires turn from yellow orange

            to purplish red

                                    watch as a rift forms

                        a crack in reality before you splits open

                                                a third eye

inverted           vertical

                                                veins raging with cosmic fire

            celestial blood coursing through unknown matter

                                                the eye is open 

it must destroy-           something       someone

                        it must destroy- anything:

                                                                        a thought

                                                            a vision

                                                an idea

                        the third is open

                                                what will you give?

I point a boney finger in the direction of the city

                        burn the city

                                                burn the city please

                                    we are no longer what we used to be

            we playing god

                                                we are nothing like the gods

                                    burn the city 

                                                            reduce this dream to cinders

                        eradicate this thought of a city

                                                                        from our minds

                        burn this city

                                                burn it down    please

the city does not sleep                        the city does not feel

                                    the city feeds us lies

            the city preys on humanity     burn it down    burn the city

                                    free us             please…

Bio: Elancharan Gunasekaran @elancherang is a multidisciplinary artist and poet. He has a strange love for all things poetical and Sci-Fi. A winner of the Montblanc X Esquire Six-word Story prize 2017. His latest publications are Superatomicluminal (Hesterglock Press, UK), Gods of the Gonzo (Analog Submission Press, UK), The Cosmosnaut Manifesto(UndergroundBooks, New York), Sleeping with Wildflowers (Alien Buddha Press, Arizona/New York), Deviant Flames and Dark Revolver (Roman Books, India/UK).

Advertisements