Looks like
whole is a part
of the hole

Machine eyes everywhere
casting learned spells
A tight spot
where oneself cannot be
at peace or in one piece

Listless mind lists out
things to do be come:
Halting at branches
Donning invisible cloak
Planting fig seedlings
Filling (existing in) holes
Conversing with rocks
Growing grass roaming

In the dust-strewn skyscraper
(constructed by crappy illusionists)
branching out tentacles everywhere
at some first junction
Casual grills me casually
as to where the station of love is

It could be hidden
in one of the holes present
in my documents

If you ask me
this is
a culture policing station

If there is to be a love station
it must be hidden
be present without being present

Within their daydreams
are bad dreams
Terrible dreams within
the bad dreams of
creepy conservatives
Must be present
without being present
We are futile dreams
that get bad dreams

What’s that they we
yada yada
we are them

Mustn’t be captured
but be present without
being present
Be without being

Casual is full of desires
without which
they wouldn’t be
At some point in life
things begin to die
inside the loving

At some story
at some junction
in the thousand-storied
shadow vertical labyrinth
breathless he hurries
searching himself
in search of you
you searching yourself

…

Ahimaz Ponrasa (a.k.a Rajessh, @ahimaaz) has been published recently with Feral Poetry and The Babel Tower Notice Board.