Doctoring Myself

[A testament of impending death
Hastily scampered, out her mouth as if
She could never again speak, did she falter then.]
I have reason to believe
The red sun sets, slanting
Oftimes, in a capricious east.

The permeating aura
Of blue pre-dawn stars
Speckles my pair of onyx pupils.

I have accumulated
Too much suffering
Within a pint of murmuring blood.

My curing days are over
I ambulate mechanically,
And healing had always been a ruse.

I wish to lay down my white-coat
And cradling some dolls and a weathered wand
Retire to a cave behind the western falls, forever.

April 19th, '09.

Rainbow

Sunlight is some strange spell:
Cast upon
A veiny white leaf -
Makes it glow green,
Atimes auburn.

Sunbirds gleam
A blinding blue
Among scores of dull
Earthy twitters.

Orioles glisten
A glimmering gold
In short leaps
From tree to tree.

Yet rain they love -
For,
In casual balmy evenings
It sighs sprays
Of spring’s best attire
In one careless sweep.

April 8, 2009.

Old Times

Appropriate, few yards, two by two
In this verdant patch
For me to lay
Asleep.

I must contain some droughty truths
Within grimy red brick walls
Of a never changing
Reality.

Street vendors outside, sell 32 bit jellies
2-leaf clovers, steamy ice-lollies
On square wheeled carts of
Wishes.

Keep this, friend, a modest memoir
Of what you are and cannot help
Of what I want and cannot
Be.

April 4, 2009.