Tuesday, October 05, 2010


Irreverence has little
to do with me and,
a lot
to do with the life I've led...
I stand, distantly pitched
in shadowed angst
even that,
has little to do with me,
a lot
to do with the lives i've held...
I try not to seek the moon's arc on a full moon night,
irreverence it is,
that makes me find it .
stuck by its crooked end,
hung like a rope, a ladder,
an arc that i can lose or find as i move my thumb..
in tandem,
with that wild vein on the right whisper of my neck.
irreverence it is
that makes me climb those rickety steps,
to bathe myself in lit silver glory..
wondering, why i seem to be saddling a full orb
when i had always been promised
the sweet soul pang of an edge,
just about toppling into

1 comment:

Minal said...

Svety commenting for the first time- really, really loved this piece. amazing work. keep writing