Many times I paint myself into dark corners,
only to escape by jumping from
the windows of my imagination
to the emptiness below.
I can fly just fine,
not need to borrow
butterfly’s wings…float, pass thru glass,
like an aimless ghost without alibi.
March 16 full moon likes to play
with my emotions like a puppet
in the hands of destiny…
moods swing like old cloths on a rope
moved by the wind.
Standing in front of the mirror in
the silence of midnight,
I don’t see my image, only reflections
of a thousand tiny shining lights.
Be quiet, you foolish mind !
stop the voices and the images…
let me be deaf and blind
at least once.
I try to run from the void fully knowing that it
is a futile effort, it will soon come:
the nothing-ness of not forms.
I saw it in my past life as Maupassant…they
called me crazy then,
maybe now I can pass as “normal”
and have the last laugh, once again.
Sexual pleasures are the ultimate escape, it is so
close to Nirvana that most times I forget and get lost
in the madness of the flesh.
I will go on eating, write, sculpt and paint…
shape my body with weigh lifting ,
do the Karma yoga thing, Act without acting
and pretend this is it.
Anjani
March 17, 2014
