The Maiden

The white canvas rests untouched,
The spear of destiny dipped in pallet,
My fingers laid scarred
My muse ;Silent.

Soul was vacant, vanished was my conscience,
Verdict was out, guilty as charged.
The bloodstained fettered cloth reminds,
The ghosts of Christmas Past.

Out of the blue,

I drew,
An arced river for her head,
And pale yellowed her face,
Lips of cherry, eyes of fish.

A white strip of her maidenhood,

and garments of country girl.

The turban flowed in wind,
And stroked the rainbow,
Colors danced death,
Every brush stroke took my life,
Bit by bit.

And there she was,looking at me,

Turning towards,or against me?
With last breath, I dropped a white,
Near her ear,
She was completed
And I was gone, to reside,

in her pearl earring.

Winds of Change

A shadow rabbit, on the roof wall
A multitude of steel cuboids, rolling on road,
Their music dwindling and rising.
Orchestra is here, and I have baton.
A,B,D,F,Do Re Mi,
The notes struck down my throat.

The black phone is sitting quietly,
A single braid of hers,splits in two
Goes around my head,whispering
The notes struck again.

One,two,three, stars appear,
Or was it me who did?
Twinkle twinkle little stars
Dead you are, and so far.
Glimmer glimmer your soul.
The notes faint, but struck clearly.

Flap flap night birds,flap flap,
Flap your way to your squalor.
Let howls be your guide, as are mine.
The symphony is just beginning,
The Ford's theatre will light up tonight.
The notes will strike tonight in every booth.

And here I am, with my baton,
On my roof, a house by road.