Trivial verses of insignificant memories ⇒ Kirno Sohochari

In deep cave of the body,
the deepest cave of mind and
in ever deepest cave of an unseen unknown
I met stranger there-
simpering with his sharp knife,
gets prepared to
kill somebody!

Wind is stormy tonight
No more light in dark sky
You’re busy
prepares fruit salad in kitchen.

Night is stormy and
you look blushing from behind.
My prehistoric libido pushes me to kiss the beauties
I headway to kissed you in behind but
suddenly sharp knife scratch your fingers.

You are screaming to see the pomegranate-blood
a thin line of libido mixes itself to the fruit salad,
Am is screaming to see the Pterodactyl in dark sky.

Night is stormy tonight and
Pterodactyl is flying in sky, albeit
you looked blushing despite your cutting finger!

Depression is hearty to forget that
you are not walking in rose garden

Your face is suicidal to seduce me, but
I know it’s not you.

The blushing lips are committed to kill me, despite this
I know you’re not the killer.

Your teeth are sparkling and ready to cut me, yet even
I know it’s not you.

The short hairs, is darkened enough to vanish me, albeit
I know you’re not dark yet.

Your eyes… thousands log deeper to drown me in danger,
even though I know you’re not the downer.

The smile is dicey to make me fool, nevertheless
I know you’re not the fool, and…
Words!… are magnetic to assassinate me, but still
I know you’re not the magnet to assassin me.

My darling, you are innocent to kill me, lack…
the fatal weapons you hide in your fragrance corset!

If there is tree, there could be bee and dragonfly
If there is man, you could hope nothing but a manacle.

How many days later, I feel winsome green underneath my foot. Tough to remember, how many days before I heard the buoyant jingle of goose in canal and pond, and how many days after I have seen the emerald smile of a village bride. I forget how many days have passed before I was sleeping beside the paddy field… filling me the smell of golden paddy-milk.

After such a long day, bumblebees and blue-colored grasshoppers bowing over my head like a flying saucer. It’s tough to memories when I was in boat floated in an unknown river like trackless waterman. How many days later, I see the white-grizzle cattleman underneath the banyan tree. It’s Lethean to remember when and where I tuned the mystic Dotara to play a folk-tune. Such a long day after, I see the mongoose running underneath the mongoose-gray sky.

Am is forgetful to memorize how many days have flowed on my palm when I touched your pomegranate with trembling heart, winter fogs were fencing me and I tried to warn you by puffing the dew from your dubious chin. After passing long decadent days, I wake up to the sleep at cock-called-dawn. I forget when I lie down in barn house and forget the cataclysm when flooded people and poisonous snakes are not hesitating to live alongside.

After passing a thousand heavyweight days, I back to the root to feel my memories. Everything is origin and embryonic in its root as was before sans the people. Such a long day later, I’m seeing the embryonic faces again and failed to understand why they looked tormented. The gourd-tips are green as they were before, but they are unable to wipes the sorrows from the primordial faces.

Such a long day after my back to the root, I see the electric pillars, tidy newsreaders on television and high-rise mobile towers and a lot of scurries noise on tea stall, but failed to reach the impassable faces as I before. I lie down on the catkin’s filed to forget the reckless time before forget you and everything I deposited to the rabbit-hole of my primordial past.


Photo Credit: Ceslovas Cesnakevicius’ photo: PinterestWinter Twilight: FlickrS. M. Sultan Painting;