Struggling to conceive a non-visual  God

In the nucleus of an eye, clouded, stained;

Battling to lie to the trauma of Life,

She makes love to a barely surviving

Fantasy of Death.


Pull out the plug now:

Let me breathe in another sphere,

Even if the breath be yet another sigh:

I insist, pull out the plug now!


My heart, over-fried in the oil of your affection,

Lit ablaze by an insatiable quest,

Feels such a mess!

I wonder, how and why it beats!


You know well, to teach a wanderer to stray.

What must belong nowhere, ought be on their way.




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s