Saturday, September 26, 2009

Medusa Medusa Medusa

I'm trying to lure the darkness
of your soul with my
own. What else is there
to give? Everything

I touch turns to dust, my people
to bubble and smoke, my
memories nothing but
ceaseless words and
skin. I forget
my lies, I do not
remember my craft,


The morning finds me bereft of dreams.
I am stone.

16 comments:

Mamma mia! Me a mamma? said...

morning...daylight...harshness...reality bites.

Wonderful...as always.

Meghana Naidu said...

just when i thought that every word was overused in poetry, and every emotion dramatised; in hopes of brilliance but ending in rigor mortis,
i read you

its just genius, the way you use your words,
and the style,
just genius

Arse Poetica said...

love,

ahona.
(iti nohe...
priti)

phenomenal woman said...

"The morning finds me bereft of dreams.I am stone."
Brilliant brilliant... as always.
:)

jo said...

you have a way with the words...absolutely brilliant stuff!!

appu said...

excellent.....

very nice and touchy

Rahul Nair said...

thats it!! i am going to give you my indiblogger vote... :)
I like your place!!

Jhuma Sen said...

excellent..excellent!!

Astraeus said...

like always
*classic*

Diwakar Sinha said...

beautiful poetry!!
brilliant!

Ramanuj said...

devilishly delicious.

style.

The Sunflower Collective said...

too sharp for my eyes.

Meghana Naidu said...

i love you. i love this.

Sayandeep Kundu said...

This is terrific...wonderful piece with quirky piece of abstraction culminating in that last statement
"I am the stone"
Brilliant stuff :)
Regards~ Sayandeep

Nick said...

That is an awesome piece and Its been my first visit to this, but I am already in love with your blog.. I can say I am your fan. Genuinely.

Neal_in eternal search said...

strikingly serene