The Closure

The cursor blinks

For over five minutes,

Tapping the keyboard,

But the letters manslaughtered,

Leaving the page bloodspilled,

The cursor blinks epileptic.

The closure,

Lead me anywhere

Near beginning,

Rather, perpetual,

Nowhere from here,

None anywhere ahead.

Time truncated,

My mind, senses and subconscious,

The ghost of my shadow has

Preceded everywhere I go,

At the lunch table; on the bed, and

Even pitching falsettos in my dreams.

The coffee's waiting for me,

A smokescreen of tardiness,

Heating the letters up,

The wizardry factory will

Conjure some fermented brews,

Before my eyelids wrap the balls.

I could drink to insobriety,

Unplug the radio,

Tear out a loosen leaf, from my old diary,

Or an Angel could peck my fingers,

On the keys,

To break the long brood.

I wish there could be a complete power cut,

A tear gas in my bleary eyes,

A thick forehead and a brittle breath,

So I could not hear my thoughts breathing,

It has been keeping me awake,

Counting the blinks.

I would rather just drop dead

At my layers of slumbers,

Puff out the falsetto,

Darken the letters,

So they will all look the same,

Indiscriminately free.

Playing out my closure,

On the centerstage of glares and gazes,

For thirteen days on stage,

My final playwright and fights,

Hanging my shadow,

By the moon, incarcerated.

You Should Be Dancing

We were singing

A karaoke

At home,

Always, three mikes and

Bee Gees: You Should Be Dancing,

Me, you, dad and mother,

You and dad will sing,

Mum will hum along,

I’ll be the Jester.

But now,

We never ensemble

Strings and clings,

I could hear music, playing

In my ears,

But I didn’t hear your voice.

In this month’s June,

The clock slows,

Everyday inches forever,

Like the 1^st day of June lasting forever.

I bought you a birthday cake,

Chocolate cherry,

But I doubt on the candles,

So I insist one short,

On that piece of cake.

Next year will be two pieces,

One chocolate cherry,

Another chocolate banana,

Like the one you brought home

Two years ago,

From Bread Story.

This night we sing:

I Could Not Love You More,

I unpack the mikes,

Bee Gees’ CD,

And switch on the TV,

After we sung you Happy Birthday.

I heard a symphony of silence,

With the musical running,

But I could not hear your voice,

The curtain flutters,

Maybe this night will rain,

As I could hear thunders roaring.

The Bee Gees sung out the elegy,

While I sat in the hall,

Flipping my mental images,

Searching for you,

When you brought us smile

With your chocolate banana.

June is a month passes slow,

The song plays slower this night,

The beats go softer tonight,

And the silence also lingers longer tonight,

The candle melts with the cake,

On the cold glass saucer.

I wrap the cake back

To its box,

Pack the CD and mikes back

To its sanctuary,

Switch off the TV,

Close the curtain,

With the music still playing in my ears.