Skip to main content

Prose I will write


Opal tinted roofs sloped earthwards as sun beat on them ferociously, workers in pale brown clothes started to gather under the glistening roof, a dog munching delightfully ran up to an old man, prancing wildly, he squatted before him, mouth leant skywards, driveling profusely, frothing nervously, he checked himself, leant back his head, gulped down the leftovers of his munched food earlier, caught the thick and long bone instantaneously as the old man parted with it. The old man parted with that bone only after he sucked in the succulent juices inside it, a woman carrying her baby on her hips, tucked the baby closer, and pulled it deeper into the grove over her hip bone, as she bent her body above the hips to accommodate the infant. The woman served the hungry old man with more meat, he noisily devoured on the spicy dish, as the woman readied herself to serve another helping, and the dog readied himself for another hollow bone, and the baby readied himself to be pulled closer as it sensed the grove itself loosing its form, becoming flat, pushing it outside. Woman realized, leant her upper body to make the grove, pulled the infant closer with one hand, and served the old man with other hand, who was drooling with gravy sticking to his mustache. the woman gesticulated and the old man scooped his mustaches with his finger tips, now the scooped sticky drivel fell on his beard, the woman put him out of his trouble, held the sticky drivel out for him to take notice of, he did, and the dog did too, he jumped to lick her fingers off. Old man paused, woman gaped, infant held on to her mother in the verge of fall, dog cleansed his mouth, licked it clean with his elongated tongue, and the couple laughed in merry.

Train arrived at the station and Cecilia embarked on a journey that was about to push her into a marching voyage. She sat by the window, train gained speed and the scene behind her receded into an island of action over the sea of ebullient inaction. harmonious sway of train pushed her into a mood of slumber, now a tree crossed her, now a swarm of bees, now a herd of cattle, train relished crossing a bridge, sound thickened, water beneath the bridge flew over an oblong rock here, around a sharp pointed rock there, circling it, and the sound relapsed into the thin hypnotic river of perpetual motive, to sleep and lend sleep, to Cecilia, to the brown haired lady beside her, to the obtusely seated man beside her, to the grave looking man opposite her, and they all slept.

Sleep Cecilia sleep,
Slumber in umber train

Cease to vacillate, attend to provocation,
Senses shut, turn them inwards,
Blaze the world within without,
Train the tingle, debauch the optic illusions,
World unfurled inside, capacious ponds of teeming tendencies,
Pools of disjointed, gazed illimitable, schools of unapproachable,
Now, oh now!
Twist nefarious schemes; grudge the untamed, peel the propriety,
Infinity appraised, approached,
Sense abraded, nature decomposed, trance ascended,
Flame unsettled, stretched, devoured the gloom, and the glum,
Water oozed, crevices exploded, rapture abounded,
Wind famished, felt, creased, methodically disposed, disturbed,
One, oh one human!
She stood, gaunt, in the nightmare of mare,
Surprised with a price, devolved, revolved, involved,
Cease to surprise, attend to create,
Volition, a lotion, rubs it, on and about her, on the fire, on the water, on the wind,
Her creation subsisted, submitted, saluted,
Elements penitent, pulled asunder, dealt with, supplicants implored,
Imbibed now, the woman grew voluminously, dreaded inquisition, brooded trancelike

Sleep Cecilia sleep,
Slumber in umber train



Cecilia woke up with a start, bent over to gather her slipped handkerchief unconsciously, her head heavy, she rose and sat with her legs crossed, strange suffocation surfaced within her mind, she suffered, anguish, longing for liberty, to pull apart the binding strings, tear her smug reproach, its as if the elasticity of her existence was not approached prior to this moment, not by her, not bay an external addiction. It did not occur to her, only an awareness came over her, a thread perhaps that struck her, perhaps a wave of undulating enigma branched its tentacles and she happened to be there at that moment, so evasive, yet so demanding, she could not have dreamt of it, for she had been awake in her dream, yes, she exercised her volitional choice over the elements in her dream, she took her time, but she got there eventually.

Words, sentences, meaning, elusive, enigmatic, perspiring, suffusing words.....she has to read something, anything, with no books around and nothing to read?, she bought snacks on her way to the railway station, yes, she could find for that paper used for wrapping, she could read that, she searched for it, it was no where to be found, perhaps she could borrow from a fellow passenger, but there was none with a book or a paper. Write perhaps, that seems to be the only way out

I will go on writing to the end of my life,
Prose or poetry, verse perverse diverse submerse

Prose i will write,
For it is easier to write
Poetry i will attempt,
For it is magical and transpiring, beautiful too
Prose i will attempt to shade the corners off,
Mend the meaning, bend the dialogue, and breach the code,
Prose i will succumb to, mum, dumb,
Prose i will create, stream i will flow in, river I will become,
I will let the prose flow in me, over me, effortlessly
Then I will severely manipulate the prose parts to recreate poetry,
To emulate poetry, to crease, caress with mesmerising prose,
For what more beautiful could one ever write,
Prose that reflect poetry in it,
And that I will write

I will go on writing to the end of my life,
Prose or poetry, verse perverse diverse sub verse

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Ground control to Major Wolf…

Major wolf prodded his clawed grimy nail into the console and regally laid back on his plush leather lounge. He lifted himself a little for the leather made a chugging noise as he slid on it. The overhead panel made a noise that was akin to what you hear issuing from a tap (back on planet earth) before water makes its long journey through the pipes and burbles out in the vent. The hot-iron red of the panel glow bothered major so he held his hand up. But this was not going to work. So he reached for the console and pinched a knob clockwise. The red light dimmed and now the inside of his cockpit had the look of a womb so much so that major wolf went to sleep right away. A crackle woke him up. What was it? He looked about him. Major wolf was not the type you woke up in the middle of a dream. He noticed the green agleam on the speaker so he roused himself from the leather lounge and paddled in a daze toward the crackle and making a good fist, thumped on the instrument. The crac...

Sexy Receptionist

Whenever someone asked him what he would do if it was his last night on the Earth he said he would sit and chew his tongue. Of course a reasonable answer would have been to either play loud music or make passionate love to a woman, but he somehow found it inconsistent with his own intellectual curiosities, to be trapped in something so real as drinking costly wine for example. He thought he would spend his time mulling. The prospect of last night affected him deeply. Unlike for many, it was not the night to fritter away. To know that tomorrow does not exist, to know that it was the last night did not rearrange priorities in his mind as it did to his friends and relatives. The apocalypse was announced and pretty soon the last night was upon the planet. He tried, as he imagined he would, to sit and mull, to do nothing more than introspect, to pursue a cosmic dimension of some sort. But he was not alone. There she was, the sexy receptionist he hired only last week. They had to...

Burlusque travesty of Individuality

The things that I have come to own up as mine have all lined up and together, they form a perpetual order of affiliation dragging me towards them. Unwholesome as I am, I subconsciously acquiesce to the ordered death of my personality. The charm is lost; the feathers of gravity that pin me down to an individual are broken, now I am not fixated to the ground. Now I am free, to wander aimlessly, to forget for the rest of the time that I have ever lived so close to the purpose that the vicinity scarred me, left me lacerated. Angered I was, extensively exposed to the cruelty of the impulses. So, I broke the tethers, and I am now aimless, far away from the pillars of impulse and instincts. Far away from the individual that I once was, today, afloat in air, I recall my days and whine suspiciously if my days of glory can ever be recovered. My surroundings are effusive, vibrant and demanding. I relish in the comfort of timelessness, today, I have stooped so low that I am unable to differentiate...