Sunday, July 12, 2015

Awakening

Awakening

I woke up to a sight less titillating to me
Than to the bonsai dynosaur dangling from the
Ceiling fan above head.

My blood chilled. My heart stilled.
My spirit chickened out at its dull
Red glare.
All the old wives tales were still lives
Frozen in neural synapses.

The sleeping king who died of a heart attack when a
Lizard flopped upon his chest
The fall upon the head signifying sure
death in South India and Acquisition of
great wealth in the North, and somewhere else
The precursor of lunacy.

My nerves crisscrossed in agony.
I was scared to wriggle out of bed
As my slightest unwary wiggle might skewer its
Concentrated reptilian hatred
Causing it to clumsily fall or jump.

I remember the one that accosted me
In the bathroom.
Newly married faux bravery made me scorn
To show fear.
I splashed a mug of dismissive water!
The huge garden Lizzie wet and startled
Seemed ready to make a run, and
Galloped at me with sudden creepy speed,
my heart raced in frozen kick started motions
Bleeding warm internal jaggery.
Stomach churned butter out of cold fear!

I was found leapfrogging on the bed,
Phone in hand, by the hubby when he came
Pronto, puzzling over my summons
To the great rescue.

When asked why the bed was my best bet
I explained about seeking safety in the highest shelter.

Let it not be said this lady was not brave,
discretion being the better part of her glory,
and quick thinking on mercurial feet had ensured
that the cordless phone was pulled
Off its hooks for panicky SOS calls.

Lizards and other crocodile wanna bes
Either you or I
Up in a tall tree...
Wipe off the baleful look.
And pad about inside
Your secret nooks.

© Amrita Valan 2015

Over the Moon

Over the Moon

Over yonder greenwood tree
A heart sick moon doth sit
Is the moon made of cheese?
Yea my darling, so 'tis.

Gurgling a guardedly ghostly song
Of gift horses disdained in the mouth
How they turned to Trojan horses
And via North  vanquished the entire
South.

Enjoy my sweet child enjoy
The brief moment of total support
Mostly love is just voyeur's joy
And every sailor's new call of port.

The sick moon is crying out its molten heart
What is the matter with it?
Can't you see, how in every patch fold and crease
Lies dispelled another gentle myth

Lie Soleil, and Selena
For you over the wall did fall
And not all your horses
Nor all your men
Could repair it at all....

Whoosh...away now! Loiter not,
sweet dreams thou boudoir goddess of bathetic blues
Green embedded maudlin moon
Kiss me never again so true.

Waver on lonely kindred moon
Thy tarnished night take off
in bat winged flight,
For the Splendid Sun, erases
Us too soon
Let Hard Light erase our
Basilisk night.

© Amrita Valan 2015

Runes

Lost in this life
An unwanted gift
Awaiting death
Its vaunted myth

These stones remain
Decorous runes
Let dancers dream
Of haunted tunes
The Mage and image
The mind's glass cage
Shatter and prance
Upon this bestial bloody stage.

© Amrita Valan 2015