The imagined 3-D Model of the #Big Bang.
MODEL OF THE UNIVERSE
I am just realizing that I’ve had a hole in my heart for a very long time. It didn’t fill up with the time that has passed, like I had thought earlier it would, and now i know it never will until I fill it myself. Stuff it with all the discarded waste in the world, from sawdust, rusk, vegetable peels, wasted bones from the butcher’s shop, dead bodies from wars, and all this will never have made any sense to me, how i’ll know, it will never be enough, and I will need to always press in more and more, if need be, barbarically jump on the filling and jump until everything is well in place until there is no more place for anymore stuffing, then pour cement over it. This hole i speak of, angry and obstinate, hungers for more, eats everything thrown in it, like a drainage basin, always empty. Sub holes, now, that i need to worry about. But can I? Don’t i already know where the holes all lead to? I need to die. Then the sea will finally fall quiet. And the howling beasts’ cries will begin to fade….
When separate eyes meet in a crowded city square,
Over exploits of their humanity, and time, once and again–
They know they were meant to stay together,
Because they were met by a chance of eternity,
To be lost again, and again.
I walk through a dark corridor,
The air hungover with muck and gloom.
The door of the forbidden room stands tall
Like the brooding death of innocence.
I’ve arrived the point where it appears clear,
I’m just trying to kill a love I’ve given up believing.
But the stark darkness stuns the virginity in me,
Which is eager, very eager to take me,
Those roads will be difficult to walk on, now alone.
The sand pebbles and germs, and the whirlpools of air
Which like separate worlds, have flourished to life
From the touch of our feet last trodden.
Preserving our childhoods, and pearls of sweet labor lost-
How dare I violate the sacred order of the worlds,
Which, if, might be conspiring to bring our feet together?
Which, if not, how can I disturb the ghost world,
Where in spirals of dust, our ghost selves would dance?
You will apologize to me, I know, you will. One day.
You know, I deserve one, for what I will have to go through…
The trauma of never being at home, while at home.
The charm… the grace
The faces, the fears
The hotness of winters
And the loudness of tears.
The words, and the gestures,
The wishes left hanging in the air
Only if it could’ve become a private joke.
Little gestures made within indecision.
The sweet breeze hungover with cheer.
The storm rolling inland bears the promise,
Of bringing new showers and more promises.
Unspoken and yet, somehow too obvious.
The arms, the chills, those never quite felt.
The white sea, the foam and frizz.
The damage done the first time
She knows will stay to harm more.
The lotus cloud soars overhead,
Sailing across as if the sky was but a foaming sea.
Then follows the great dragon, flapping its brazen wings
Its talons reach to snatch the lotus flower.
Breathing out its nostrils full of flame.
There’s a battle going up there. Of chaos with peace.
Of the beast that tramples innocence.
How many battles must have been fought thus?
What of victors, what of who’s been paying for it,
No answers, my mind is already somewhere else.
Screaming around <in my head>
With no questions to ask,
And all pain and guilt.
<Six months ago> You made me wipe away my tears,
<Six months ago> You had me smiling again,
<Six months ago> You had me listening to metal!
<Six months ago> You taught me to love…oo oo ooooo….
Love, love, love, <love, love, love, love, love>
Some mystery it is. <How it happened>
You’d know it all better. <Sure you do>
It’s easy to mistake,
But then it never is.
<Six months ago> It all changed.
<Six months ago> You changed it for me.
<Six months ago> You, you, you happened.
<Six months ago> And your cycle became my eternity.
Words, little words, ran out of mind. <my my, my, my, my>
Some mystery that is. <How it happened>
You’d know it all better. <Sure you do>
It’s easy to mistake.
But then is it?
I plead guilty, <I am I know>
But like all crimes, punish me. <Oh, don’t leave me alone>
You cut me off, like I’m made of paper.
You turned away, like it’ll undo the last six months.
<Six months ago> You spoke a spell, <or something like that>
<Six months ago> If you’d remember, we had something to fight for.
<Six months ago> Six months have passed, and it’s just hurting now.
<Six months ago> You killed us but then there’s the ghost of our laughter…
Taunting through the day and haunting the nights,
You’re out there, soaring up on sunny beaches,
With the tides and the sun, while in silence life leaks outta me,
Caught in the perpetual ice storm, you and life conspired to put me in.
<Six months ago> I wished to die, and fade,
<Six months ago> What I feel now.
<Six months ago> You came in and that changed.
<Six months ago> Now you’re gone and won’t come back again.
All I wanna apologize for is,
I really do miss you.
Baby, you were all the good things,
I believe life ever had to offer me, that I will miss.
3.50 am | 11 Oct, 2013
I don’t see any point in what I am doing right now… So there is no point in anything anyone else does in an attempt to be happy. Some people work, some people play. When they all know happiness is always momentary and rare is the case that lovers die together. I don’t know where my endeavor would be categorized. It’s been a few days or so it feels. Some seventy days it’s been, like a whirlwind. I have felt time like a companion, strolling along with me, running, stumbling, leaping and loitering aimlessly while I sought to pursue my happiness that he makes me anyway. It’s wrong, I know. Hoping and waiting, but I do anyway. With everyday he makes me fall for him a little while falling out of it a little. The throbbing heart just waits to see him again. The pulsating little light behind his form when I see him, sets my heart at unrest. My nerves are on fire, and deep inside me there is this all consuming desire, just to put myself out there at his mercy. I hate myself for it. I’ve had this before, and I don’t want history repeating. I don’t want to become another Meera, waiting for Krshna to be hers. My mornings became my nights and midnight my dawn, and yet desires are never ending. The wait is always there. So much is at stake, just so much, and yet he is unaware of it.
The air simmers, blisters. Induced hallucinations.
The cracked open mouth of wounded earth,
Seeped with blood red and covered with rust.
Centuries and eons of memories clouded by dust.
The fragile lines were breached once long ago,
The tempest had once rushed into my shore.
It’s been long and time has swept away the resort
The floods and waves of tide haunted me to drown.
Then the sea is just a embittered memory,
And it was a heap of sand I’d leapt into. Not death.
See, the passion had been sung well to drone.
To arise and laugh back, when mirages mock.
It’s been long I’ve lived scared to scraps and bolts.
It, the post traumatic stress disorder in me craving blood.
But I’m ready to go all out again, for surfing in the sea of love.
And she has to come out too, the madwoman locked in my head…
The fighter in me. The rebel. The poet. The lover.
The unchained philosopher, her storm unleashed.
Night has finally settled bets with daylight
There right there, fate’s let my midnight sun dawn.
Now again the tempest blows ashore, from the east.
The distant roars of the hungry cranky clouds resound
After flashes of desire reflecting his heart and mine.
After a long time I know, it will rain and it will rain.
I’ll always love you.
I’ve always loved you.
And I will always love you.
Others will come into my life, like every morning is new, and we try new things, every other day.
But every night, like I put on a different set of clothes, to sleep away the lonely, tragic hours,
I drink you in like an exotic wine, some magic potion…
that erases every thing and rewinds time back to the day we met.
The day, I traded in my soul to the devil,
That I may remember you as the only man in my life.
And then I remember everything.
Oh, and with love…
These violent delights have violent ends…
Why, I couldn’t remember that,
Before I gave away my heart,
In just a fancy little fantasy?
But now I know, it’s all the same.
What I’ve become, I don’t wanna know.
It’s only me now, the only one,
Who can surprise me in my ire.
And nothing else.
No more fire. No more violence.
Just stretches of grey foggy dreariness everywhere,
Hard as rock, the hall of stones stand,
Like walls of doom over me.
Like a volcano too cools down one day.
Then rocks do not react to water or a touch.
That’s where violent fantasies end,
And worldly delights begin…
Fire burns dimly within me,
A spark slowly dying.
Air fails to resurrect,
The dying spirit from its end.
Water comes nowhere in the question,
Earth, will you take me in?
The clouds have wafted away,
The moon, clear and high,
After a long, long time,
I have felt you, on my skin.
In my heart.
Got a whiff of your breath,
That I’m so greedy to take.
To kiss those lips, I used to tremble,
Me, today, they’ve touched.
Like starting it all over again.
Don’t know of what the future holds,
But I’m sure of myself, I will not change.
So, under your rusted balcony,
In the rain and the sun,
Holding a bunch of poppies,
For you, my soul, my love,
I’ll be there waiting for forever.
Will you say, yes?
O’ you, miserable, miserly wretched geek,
You are poor, even though you think you’re rich.
Because numbers in your bank passbook,
Doesn’t stand for smiles that take your look.
Waking up, you will see it one day,
You’re left alone, and the world has moved on…
All cooped up inside your little nest, you are
Like an angry, very angry bird.
As much you want,
You can peck and punch through your walls,
But no ear still, will hear your cries.
(You can’t eat your gadgets,
I know you will not ever–)
Ashtrays will go on piling up, more and more
The dustbin overflowing with paper and rust.
Decaf will always remain stuck to your mug,
But no one’s home to do the dishes tonight.
Old and haggard, you’ll turn with time,
No smile you’ll get, just scowls and butts.
Lying in your bed you’ll cough and toss,
But no hand will touch your forehead with love.
Then only two options you have: rub your fat snout,
With a clean white sheet, and come out, right now!
Or, live in it. And smoke up your life,
Puff by puff, soaring higher and higher,
Like a very angry bird.
By, Cyril Cliffette © 2012