August 12, 2010


I’ve met people
Of different colours—
Blue, green, violet, maroon

I’ve met eyes
Of different shapes—
Cubes, cuboids, circles, triangles

I’ve spoken to tongues
Of different dialects—
Minowoh, Ginowa, Blah blah, Bli na

What are we,
but jaw, fingers, spine and knee?
Swathed in aging flesh

Naked bones spell naked truth

Once dead,
Will the dust on these bones remember:
The colour of flesh that covered them,
The jaw which spoke that particular tongue,
Or the memories which were made while being
what they stood as on ground?



Anonymous said...

I have met people too,
genetically, skeletally, physiologically one,
yet they all wish to be different,
comparable to none.
Coloring thyself for a camouflage,
Batting eyelids, effecting a mirage.

Had spoken intimately to many tongues,
they hiss wild, wanting the animal.
re-inciting lies, with closed eyes,
Ah the sight, you clutch more tight.

It must have dawned to me,
witnessing this farcical melee,
its like dancing to a melody,
pelvises swivels away to unity.

Anonymous said...

Heyllo is it that you are missing in action?

five_silver_rings said...

Mail me.