Mournful widow
O my mournful widow
Pale purple blue
Why thou look so sad today in the silhouette of the evening shadow
Black widows
Willows by my windows weep and whisper in the murmur of the late-night
moon
While the sycamore and mahogany sigh and weep more
Mournful widow
Mourn no more
Life’s only death’s due
Death is life’s due
Dew-drops drip and drop in the serene silent somber solitude
While the sun rises up below the canopy of the crystal clear blue
Mournful mournful mournful widow
I weep by my window
For my love has left me alone to shoulder the sadness of my own soul
This burden of love is very sorrowful
I cannot shoulder it anymore
So I must shed this shell of sadness to be selfish by the seashore
Waves upon waves roll
Airy air rises above the smoke
Twilight-lit-hill-peaks tint the surroundings motley hue of the orange
brown golden hue
Lo lo lo
Happiness harp upon the harvest shew
Blades of rice and maize glitter in the moonlit view
Mournful widow
O how thou dance by the dew
Like the spirits of the dead saints and sadhus piping in the pipes of
opium-making- poppy pure
Thy petals pink and purple let Van Gogh paint a picture in pristine
pensive mood
O how I get drowsy and intoxicated by the soft subtle snares of thy
love-lipped fragrant fume
O my mournful widow
Woods woebegone winterize the woods as the flakes of frozen snow
settle sheepishly upon the wooden wood
The streets with no names teem with pimps, fences, prostitutes
The priests and politicians lie their ways through and through
Amber alert
She’s four
The rapist strikes again mocking the ghastly moon
The drug pushers push more drugs to get even with the flow of the
demented demanding do’s
The peaks of the mountains speak to the peaks of the space that hate
vacuum
While a shoal of silver seagulls fly pass the bemoaning blue below
The strings of sparkling stars hang from zenith to zoo the wonders of
the wonderment that the Old Man has sewn
O my mournful, mournful widow
Beckon the moon blue
Stir the lust of love between thy lips like honeydew
The preacher pray no more
Nor the faithful follow the faithful fruit
The fused fluid of pleasure the male and female of the species diffuse
Defying the death of the holy prophet
Delighting in the dance of flesh-fed-fluid-flute
The feathers are fused to the bones
The bones hardly have any bone-marrow rendering the birds to fly
freely full
O my mournful muse
Why do you look so pale and sad staring at the half-eaten side of the
crescent moon
The noon tide upon the Ganges causes the flotsam and jetsam to be
carried away by the pull of the watery dunes
The love between the lovers knew no bounds
Pleasure dark and forbidden always sound profound
The little girl tugs at the tail of her ponytail
While the little man pushes deep his depth of the bamboo length in the
muddy water of the unknown lotus-leaping lake
There by the bed of the fallen foliage of lime and mangoes where the
children are playing leapfrogs and horses with the broken boughs a
memory, a remembrance of nature of questionable count lay ruefully
embedded below the entrails of the more moist ground
O my mournful
O my mournful
O my mournful mount
Mount and dismount
This way
That way
Sideways
Missionary
Mouth-in-mouth
Enter and exit
Shut and shout
Love pagoda is leaning to the side of the sensuous sound
The cow-maids make love upon the haystack yellow golden brown
Dirges baleful rest pitiful on the cold surfaces of my wind-worn moss-
grown tombstone
The pair of owlets hoot and let howl as the ghostly moon remain
unmoved and stagnant at the top of the grey ominous cloud
O spare me a prayer for my soul unsound
The ship becomes a pigment of a doubt as the poor painter run out of
paints to paint the unfinished ship’s sail, shapes, and deck and hull
hollow whole
The hull remained done halfway
While some seamen showering by the side of the salt sediment
The stalemate, checkmate
Like every life’s faults and fails the poor painter lies dead adjacent
to his ye-to-be-finished painted pot of pigmented phase
The whorl of the daffodil dance wholesomely in the ray of the setting
sun-sage
While the pride of magpies and pigeons are nibbling at the seeds and
other assorted assortment of tidbits
What the farmer daughters and wives carelessly threw away to get rid
of their untold pride
Mournful, mournful
Mournful mind o’ mine what melancholy ail thee
What shade of sadness thou thus left behind
What mystery mysterious
What marvel mimicked, maimed
What color
What light
What fear, fright
Who do you love
For who and what you cry
The eyes that see not
The mind that do not mind
The oblivious oblivion
The vision behind the veil of light
O do shed my shells and blinds
I want to see the invisible spirits in the light
The darkness that do not let sleep or dream defy or dignify the death
of infinite endless butterflies and fireflies
The shore that lay empty and wild
The corpses come out bursting the sheath of sunlight
The cries, the moans of the virgin-brides as the beasts of pleasure
and pride beastly penetrate the untouched uncharted virginal lands
laying longingly in their thighs
Things unknown
Things unkind
Kindle of candlelit dispel the evil spirits of the more evil nights
Her nightie drops off revealing her Venus nude bright
O how I go in willingly hungrily to pray in her sapphire-shaped,
emerald-walled, diamond-doored divine shrine
She easts me gently
I eat her wet and wild
Slowly
Sweetly
Riotously
Like a soldier hungry for his wife
Like the birds-of-prey preying on the about-to-be-preyed-life
Mournful widow, mournful widow o’ mine
Mourn no more
Mourn no more
I’m by your side
Let me put my lips on thine
Let me touch your petals that protect thy love-light
Let me make you mine
You make me thine
Together we shall share our sadness happiness low-tide high-tide
Conceive
Conceal
Nature
Nurture
Fall
Rise
Leaves with no wings cannot fly far, unless the whirr of the oceanic
wind carry them away to the lands far far away far from the cry and
smile of all mortal life
O my lotus-lipped-iris-eyed-bride I’ve come to see you rippling in the
lunar tide
O how you undulate your thin tender body of beauty timorous tight
Gyrating thy fine figure around the watery wet ringlet of pre-dawn-
sunlight
Anointing thy love-serum with the liquidated moonlight
Beauty such subtle sublime
So lonely, enchanted, enshrined
So romantically inclined to the fog and mist of this half-frozen lake
singing love-lullaby beneath a star-dappled-sky of starry surprise
Mournful widow
Mournful widow
Pink purple pride
Searching
Severing
Seeking
Sinking
Sucking
Penetrating prying
Peacocks pea-hens ride
Rewriting line after line the lines that been written before before
the start of all religions and rites
The pensive ponderous pure prime pristine paradisiacal lily-lipped-
lotus pond painstakingly play the play of the Playwright partaking in
the parts and parcel of His pre-painted predestined Paradise
Hell is a place where the lost souls reside and Lucifer lie
The status of truth and lie
Vice and virtue
Enslavement of sunshine
The seeker seek not
The seer see not
The sighing sigh leave not the soul enslaved flesh-fed-sty
Thunder roar
Lightning strikes severing open the breasts of heavenly sky with the
charged particles that escaped the labyrinth of shifty shaping life
O what if I die tonight
And what difference will it make to you and the approaching sunrise
If not today or tomorrow you will also die
None can escape death’s dye
A life must die to make way for the next life
Death must perform its rite
Continuity
Concentric
The passivity of the precise piece paying tribute to the peace
piecemeal upon the painted pole of the pessimistic peal
There inside the intruding till the slender eel swim in to unseal the
secret seal of the siren-sylph
As if in a dream in a dream I keep on dream the dream that sleep never
sleep to dream
I woke up in a sudden thrill to see myself chained to her love-stream
I scream
I scream
But I cannot escape from her magical spin
She slowly sits me and eats like a serpent eating a trapped eel
Am I awake
Am I asleep
Why cannot I feel anything
Why cannot I see anything
Feeling feelings
Seeing seeing
Nothing remain to think or seem
Only the drowning seamen drowning in the sieve-like sink
O save me
Save me, save me please
I’m being dissipated, dissolved in dream
I trying moving my eyelids
Yet I cannot see anything
Cold frozen extremities
As if I’ve grown wings
And the wings are heavy and are broken at the tips
Fingernails have stretched up to the length of my feet
In place of my hairs feathers are growing
O what mutation
What cursed transformation I’m undergoing
Before long I become a raven and fly away in utter disbelief
Where my soul went
Where my bones and flesh relived
Still that remained a mystery
In the form of a raven now I wander from city to city in search of my
lost life that I had before I was transformed into a raven
O my mournful widow won’t you help me find my lost requiem
In the grave that I lay to express my solidarity with my predecessors’
decomposed view
Where darkness and silence forever dissolve and diffuse to safeguard
the will of the finished product of the flesh and bones
This bondage of life bonded to a little show
Most stress
Few refute
Refuges of mockery refuse to rebuke the rueful sadness saddling on a
shawl of sleep
Do not waste speech
Do not waste food or drink
Do not dare to challenge the inviolable secret of Him
Mournful widow
Mournful widow
Marigold yellow gold marvel below the mesmerizing sky wet blue
A group of daffodils
And a patch of ivy thrill in the easy breeze of the summer bare
beauteous cozy
While I lay all confounded and concrete with my unfeeling face and
feet laying on the pitch of the moonlit-stripped-streets
Mournful
Mournful
Widow of my dream
Please do not ever leave
Nor ever try in vain to make me believe on the beliefs and the color-
class-coded systems of us humans and machines
