Thinking beyond the ocean upthrust
Have you ever seen a jellyfish at night
It acts like the galaxy in an ocean dept
Just as the stars and glofish it is bright
At night when the whites are blacks
I stare in my mind extracting the gene it encodes
Responsible for the magnificent reasons it glows
And place on the crown of a crowded shadows
Or inside every dark hearted mind to glow
Maybe the world would know,
That there is more to a jellyfish than a glow
God so created beauty for the minds to blow….
Every Morning the skies open its eye
Seeing the magic beneath its very high
Magic sustaining farm and a chimerical veracity
Soils, underneath a docile lamb in a rainy city.
Every Afternoon the smoky sky whitens its teeth
Smiling in amazement to the growing root
Mostly because money can not buy an atom of air
Sweet sweet its sings there is a unique face to every hair.
Every Evening the Earth sees its wonders up above
Solar solace, illuminating “the Sky is a dove”…!!
Many sees it as a crest to the heavens vest
Sleeping singing sweet sounds of rest…
How can a brain work in a house of talking woods?
Where every sweet wine is soured in moribund cellars
Life! Take a deep thought isn’t it made as a misery bar?
That the moment sleep is had nothing is near or far?
Vanity and greed! All there is in a land full of blacks
Is self imposed mental slavery of lacks..
It began from the shrinking fat pockets of old
To the ends of the region, north and east that fold
The kids watch same movies day and night
All that is bright and wonderful takes a flight
Love in this Nation is like animals in the zoo
A beautiful world is impossible because of how we do.
The trees in a dream called it self no-hurry
With pains in my head I woke up so early
Sixteen on the years twenties were once a fairy
The day seemed bitter at same time scary
Don’t get me wrong it was sweeter than a berry.
All from a native land of Kings to me, she sail
In her attires was an impression that don’t fail
She and I together is like a custody and a bail
Time was fast at same time behaved like a snail
Jailed in sweet surrender, a chair and its nail.
On a black four legged white virgin horse
I piloted her to a humble forest for us
Loins fell asleep; as she trembled on green grasses
More valuable than a stone, uncommon senses
No love is fake, is a twelve digit for remembrance.
Everyone is taken, so it seems
Yet their hearts are alone in their lonely inns,
And even the skies bends like the drying fins.
Maybe it’s because a fingerling have no finger of a ring
And while they sing,
The lovebirds have lost their voice when love was a king…
Or because the aisle they once walked across
Now have bleeding footprints
Casted and engraved on the floor…
Love is false when the entrance to the room
Has a beautiful black painted floor
Fancy frames but a wide closed door.
Love and lust begot each other in fun
The days of jungle love is long gone
Now there to a branch, several fruits on
So in anticipation wait is served to woe
Hopefully for who to whom
They are most likely a second string to pull…
I opened the diaries of many ladies
Only to discover that babies will always be babies
And with the mind of a man, not all men are men for the roses…
The greatest joy to have isn’t a ring
But…. Home of a ring
That brings forth joy, and good tidings…