Whispering Thoughts

Faint memory Of A honeyed voice, Some syllables, Mellifluously Undulating, An unintelligible Concoction Of whispers, Propelling To fathom The abyssal depths, Impelled Like A moth to a flame, Besotted, I offer myself For Sacrifice, Swallowing salinity In supplication, Consummation Purging And Sanctifying.

Four flights of stairs. By the time I make it to my seat I can barely breathe, Stand, And talk. It takes A while, A precious Little while, To smile effortlessly At colleagues. Most of the mornings, When I Am running on Time, I follow this  Oh I know, I’m crazy Routine, Sweating it out Just before My work-hours, When My underweight frame Can easily Squeeze in The oversized Overcrowded Lift Running overtime, And This salt And sweat, This Perspiration, Earned At the Cost Of Being Too lonely For Far too long, Helps Me hide My heart, One more time. Linking with 100 word song : The Doobie Brothers : Keeps you runnin'

That hug, The embrace That's a liniment For this Earthly mass, The warmth Seeping through The layers of Clothes I wear, Calming My frayed soul, Embalming It with Your million dollar smile. I was healed, The moment You Pulled the door Yesterday.

The elegance caught My eye; The sophistication With which The glam and glitter Were displayed Had my Curiosity hormones Gushing and rushing; The momentum Of feet Took me past The sparkling display Breaking only Before a Derelict shack A couple of shops away. I closed my eyes And Took a deep breath And in that Infinitesimal moment I knew I had to walk back To that extravaganza. I pulled At The glass threshold And stood there Hesitating And Wavering While The torrid june air Disturbed the Calm of the Showroom. Instinctively, The shop owner Looked up, Our eyes met And In that one moment The chance Of Fleeting Was sealed. " Bracelets ?" I stuttered And stammered. " This way ." A salesman followed, Matching steps with me, Asking me Some Unintelligible paragraphs. My eyes glued To the swarovski, My mind doing the maths. Finally, I found one piece Pleasing to Both The opthalmic And Encephalic Tastebuds. I p...

Devouring desire, Daily, Untempered, Unrefined And chimerical. Small potions Of phantasmagoric Shadows of sucess, Cajoled by Conceited confidence Into Appetizing and Tempting mouthfuls. The brute truth Successfully Mired In foggy shades Of Counterfeit dawn, The clarion call Of The misty Distractions Heralding The Loosing battle. The descent To the nether realms Slow, Unhurried. The vacant mind, Wandering Beyond dreams, Slipping into darkness, Into the vast Vacuousness. Distant, Faint voices Calling. The fatigue Born Of vices, Coveted And Tended to, Sapping The strength. By then, Even The salve To redeem oneself, The one last Flicker of Sanguinity Is also rendered Impotent. Linking with : 100 word song : WAR's Slippin ' into darkness

Sitting fixedly, Thinking of not thinking, Ruminating over The clamour Of Remnants of the day, Things done, Undone, The verbosity, The silences, The hushed, judged, Decided and dithery, The utter trivia, Even the Copernican, Finally the breath. Two zen bells. Session over.

The spirited somersaults Of the Adam's ale Over the Glistening grey stones Inviting, Tempting, Adrenaline surging, Fueling, Touring-feet Treading and trampling The mighty sacred nectar In its resting hours. The icy aqueous touch On the summerskins. Exhilarating, The exuberance Promising Loads of Kodak-moments. One fateful tide Of the eventide Silencing Their rapturous applause, Angered, agitated, Ruffled And thirsty. Avenged and quenched By greedy gulps Of young dreams. Vehement deluge, Exhausted of fury, Swallowed and hollowed The sprightliness. Calmed and placated, The heiress of sorrow Flowed into another dawn Shedding silent tears For Before long, Only the empty chairs Will grieve. Linking with 100 word song : Empty Chair Linking with : 100 words : Heiress

Maimed By Her absence. Here I am. Wounded and sutured. Oozy. Brittle. Unhealed. She Alone Can shush this Stormy self. Evanescent, I still breathe her. The quietus Shall silence These yammers. I shall be at peace But Some questions Will linger on.

He played With Grey strands Or perhaps Silver, Running astray, There were smiles On that face once, Warm And contagious, But the Winters of wisdom Had left behind Souvenirs of wrinkles, The passionate kisses, Still lingering On that withered papery parchment, The stories, Unfinished, Unended, Hanging, Words draped in silvery voice, Poised artistically, Willing embraces, Spirited summers, Exuberant nuisances, All are here, Fresh, alive, He can't shake them off. Even though she's drifted, Into the sundown. He too is a couple of Shallow breaths now That Can't keep him here. Split-second And He'll already be a painting on the wall. Linking with Poetry Jam Linking with 100 word song