I wink at the bright stars
I squint my eyes and stretch my hands
Towards the stars, and Sun, and Mars
Into the space that has no bounds
Soft wind, a warm refreshing breeze
Hugs, kisses and envelopes me
And wide expanse of azure sea
As if it were pleased to please
Ahead of me waves gently roll
Their salty spray is on my face
And jubilant is now my soul
So happy in the light’s embrace
Sea drops are on my cheeks, forehead
The past is gone without trace?
Come on, I thought that I am dead
There’s no hope, there’s no grace
All of a sudden I awake
It’s pitch dark here, my eyes are gone
It’s cold, it’s all been a mistake
Here where’s no dusk or dawn
Here is no time as one can tell
Here is no hope, here is no sense
The dead however dream as well
I’ll tell you that in confidence
Author: roobit
Astonishingly complex panegyric to one’s ego
Repository of so many complicated oddball words
Sunk low in the flow of literary effluent
So much pretence
Amidst gobbledygook
Why can’t poetry be simple, beautiful and rhymed?
Ping Pong
The ping pong ball bounces off the table
And flies definitely to a surprising height
Just to come down, get hurt and bounce again
Two players are showing off who’s able
To hit it at an angle in its flight
One strikes the ball, the thing’s insensitive to pain
It soars, it flies – quite like an alien spaceship
And travels through the air in an erratic motion
Outdoors is mayhem, thunder, heavy rain
While I would rather weep
But to weep here? What a crazy notion.
Another player gives the ball a blow
The spaceship dashes in its final thrust
Like rocket racket cuts air like a knife
But misses target, the ball flies low
It lands ignominiously to rest in dust
And I think wow, the ball’s exactly like my life
Guilt
You little angel who’s been so betrayed
A victim of inhuman circumstance
Of human hatred, prejudice and power
Held in the evil hands and in malicious minds
I blame myself, and I am so afraid
I should not have taken any chance
Too late — my spirit is now devoured
By sorrow of the sort that binds and maims, and blinds
I love you still though I am helpless and I am lost
I love you though long broken is my will
I know that nothing can be gained despite enormous cost
I know time numbs the pain but time does never heal
Where Are You Going?
I feel your presence: it is crawling
I am desperate to get away
So, like a creepy-crawly creature
I sneak out into the bathroom
It’s a refuge, a shelter:
Once there I look into the mirror
It has been smashed into tiny constellations
Myriads of disjointed voids
Frozen in a macabre dance
When did she have the time to break the thing?
I think
I ask myself
There are no reflections
Just pitch dark hollowness behind the broken glass.
I pray for disappearance, not for salvation
I can’t escape with you being around
You should be long dead, so tell me
Why are you still here?
I speak to no one in particular as I stare into the empty space
And feel your bony tiny hand descend upon my shoulder
And feel your putrescent breath
It envelopes me, surrounds me, sucks me in
I scream and turn around
No one’s here
I make the leap
The door is locked!
That’s when I hear your voice:
“Hon, where are you going?”
Is Someone There
Irrevocable persuasion of decay
Carnal putrescence is convincing
A temporal reminder of transience
In which we float toward the gate
Of the perfectly Unspeakable
From whence no one leaves
As dead leaves unceremoniously fall
Each fall on the unkempt alleyways of
Long abandoned park of our memory
And the neglected soul that’s been consigned
To dwell in a doghouse on the outskirts
Of this filthy squalid reservation
Howls in the thunderous silence
But haggard cynic bitch just holds her nose
And asks (in fact, she barks)
If she can just move in?
Since the doghouse is really vacant
It is long empty
And no one howls or begs for help:
Since there is no soul
Since there’s never been a soul
When I go outdoors
When I go outdoors, it is always cloudy.
They tell me that I am wrong, it is a sunny day!
The Sun is warm and comforting and gay
In that old straight sense of the comic word
But all I see are clouds, intensely grey
And so I shyly pray to the Almighty Lord
And stuttering I beg, and plea, and say:
Please let me see what they all can see
That cheerful Sun
Please give me back my dear, my beloved son
He doesn’t answer, His silence is benign
He knows that all too well
Theirs is the Sun above but all the clouds are mine.
My Fellow Earthling
In a pathetic vanquished state
Both hapless and disgraced
You lay on ice
Wide open are your eyes
Our venerable ancient companion
Once a contemporary of the dinosaurs
Yours is such an impressive age
Besides you’d never lived in a cage
And though your fellow tribesmen
Had almost all been exterminated
Percentage-wise
By men (and women)
The real scourge of our Earth
Unwise
Repulsive creatures of an erroneous birth
A divine mistake or an evolutionary blunder
You who have been created
In and for the perfect liberty
Who’d dwelt under the protection
Of the most unfathomable depths
Majestic fellow, my fellow earthling
Without due respect
You were placed on ice
We stare at you
Wide open are your eyes
And then she says oh God
How much is that lovely cod
And now I think of fish and chips
Roobit's Poetry Burrow 