A Nameless Pain

The accusing grip of his words

wrings every neuron, every chord

in my brain so tight, it's a wreck.

The pain moves through my neck,

to my shoulders, pours over my spine

knocks the burning lamp in the shrine

to drip down like boiling thick black oil;

it's funny how it fills eternal voids.

Some even divert to my forehead,

making it even harder to forget;

welling my eyes and pouring down

like a melted golden crown

in borrowed robes of tears

cold, soft but fierce 

burning my eyes to a bloody-red

blotting all my tomorrows ahead.

The words are already carved so deep

in the skin of mind, it moans, it weeps

the oozing oil is a drying-up creek

the voice in my head is about to sleep

I sit down by the keys on a board

to hum the lullaby word by word.

-Uththara-

After the Leap of Faith

The leap was taken a lifetime back

been falling since

Leap of Faith

floating first, then almost flying

to the edge of time

to hit the ground.

The higher the climb,

the better the view

one milestone to another,

the best of a hike, to reach the zenith,

the steepest, tallest cliff

to lay eyes on close

to that vast magical view

 of the valley of life and take that leap

of faith, freedom, or fright

for love, life, and light.

The higher the climb,

the steeper the fall

as the earth rushes faster

towards me each second

I enjoy the view of the vast valley of life

doesn't matter if I die

crash my head, my heart

on those beds of fossilized rocks

doesn't matter, not anymore;

this view is worth it all.

-Uththara-

A Part of Everything

Everything around me moves

and I am absolutely still

I understand profoundly

how painful it is to move

the pointlessness 

of the whole action,

the utter waste

of physical, mental energy.

I lay so utterly wholely still

watching them all move.

Watching! I am not still,

not absolutely;

I watch, I think, I put'em on paper.

Everything moves

but my egoistic ego,

that doesn't want to believe,

that I am

absolutely,

infinitely,

a part of

everything.

-Uththara-

Artwork: https://www.artmajeur.com/en/zakariamejnioui/artworks/11617349/abstract-movement

Late-Night Reading

I turn the page
reading about a lucid dream.
Longing for the same,
I inhale a puff of smoke,
breath in through my teeth,
let the smoke swoosh through my throat,
and swirl in my lungs
to swoosh back and splash
in to the outward space.
My eyes follow along,
up, up, and away.
The smoke swirls and swings
to the neat beat of the energies
in the room.

A monologue begins:
You were in me
and now you are out there
for me to see;
some part of me
is in you now
and some part of you
is now in me;
we are one
the smoke and I,
I float with you
in the out open sky
as much as you lay solid
and heavy on this ground.

-Uththara-

A Night at the Opera

The wooden woman of rhythm,

Breaths, moans, and screams

as her thinly tensed strings

shiver to a shower of stings

At every single touch

of his tender, slender fingers

I sit there and stare

at their musical flare

I've had a fair share

but should I ever compare?

I know how that feels

I know how he heals

I know that warmth

cozier than any hearth 

warming up the only path

leading to my lonely heart

yes, he's been a part

of life, light and every art

since the day I could imagine

the feeling of a love divine.

I could have never fathomed

the beauty of every ion and atom

But now I see how life begins

as he makes love to the strings.

-Uththara-

Sunset

The sun started walking down
slowly toward the horizon
to dip his toes a little, at first,
and then to quench the midday thirst
still lingering, drying his throat
his tongue, his body, his burning soul.
His toes touched the water below
and in that water, all his sorrows
were soaked into a pile of mellow,
morning kisses for another tomorrow.

-Uththara-

Death Wish of a Soul

May these winds carry me

like a fallen faded autumn leaf

parted from the kith and kin,

blowing in the western wind...

May they graciously leave me

on a greener land lightyears away

where my being would turn to dust

as the days would fade to dusk.

May these winds carry me then,

a cloud of mere weightless dust,
over fragile lives and fertile grounds

beyond the beautiful blue-green mounds

to the vast infinite space

of dark matter and grace

where I would soothingly succumb

to the lullaby in our Mother's womb.

-Uththara-