Monday, December 17, 2012

who are you, ariel?

who are you, ariel?

my old friend passed between my arms
through my body, my pores
she and i have known each other long
long since the sands flew on the beaches of cox's bazar
sky was azure that day, sand played waist-high whistles
making footprints on the shore we walked as she sang
she sang in whispers into my heart
took me places i never been

and what's your name, arlel?
all that love you sprawl all over me and yet
so abundant and sweet as a crawling orange crab
walking sideways to the breeze, the breaking foam
cold warm fizz on my feet shells and rocks

what's this air that i breathe? what's it do?
going in and out, in and out, and then i die
from the last breath of it all, and why?

is that you ariel? or are you someone else?
someone's mistress or a forlorn maiden?
do you miss me when i am gone, stuffed
inside of a laptop or a cave
when i am all politics and freedom fighting
or making love to someone
do you?

do you go past over the quaint forests
aboriginal hills of the rakhaene?
faster than a flapping seagull and large
as the sierras the continents the oceans
do you wish?
do you weep?

to become a hurricane a tornado?
going round and round, devastating destructing turmoiled--
or do you just slow down, calm after a storm
saunter into a graveyard--quiet and sloth
watching and feeling every drop of sweat
on the face of a man quietly shoveling
inside of a grave