Poem: Morning spells of a Worker bee

Around three AM, he is awake
Uphill, upon a solitaire game
Loving the heat of his sweat
The distance whispers of his honey queen
The nearness of the morning howls
The mistakes and lazy gaze at the paining finger
The smiling mirror in his fuming eyes
The smiling lips in his coupled mirrors
The worker bee is dividing his blood
One for his sweat and other for the sweet love

Poem: Mermaid of miseries

Vaguest of the moments
Vaulted in the veneers
A veneer of his veins
A mermaid chose to steal its soul

She ran into a coil of herself
Only morning was upside
In the mourning of a mermaid
Its progeny has overheard
The lessons of a shipwreck
The songs of a crystal moth

The mermaid was a mad cow
A miserable thing of angst
A mild sense of serenity
A mellowing season of soberness




She evolved in disdain
She revered her pale roots
She caved her breast of illness
She gazed at blind bloods
She was found among the branches
Of pale old banyan trees
That mongered the fate of deserted temples
That minced the shape of kernels

She was never a case for corals
She was found in sediments
Of age old walls and molten bricks
She pierced her beliefs in person
She punished the house in poison
Worms are left, wickedness is lost

Wish her your miseries
Weave her a silk of your dried up tears
As she shall be the mermaid of miseries ever

Poem: Story Of a Fortune Cookie

How to write a poem
On the walls of a fortune cookie

When you know you have a sea at heart
It equals sleeping on a blast furnace
Or perhaps like on the shore of an oil spill
That kills many stomach bleeding food
That wipes out many more organs of desire
That wraps up untold stories of misery
That never weeps to the worrying seaweeds

It weaves a lovely edible lattice
It leads me to a meadow of meshes and circuits
It holds myriads of nice words and weaves

In its crystalline lovely lattice
That shines beneath an iron sheath
I saw a purple pupil that I love lost
It was like a night even where stars lose sheen

In the dried up moments
I went for a chase in my hometown
I went in a summer equinox
Running away from blanket of nightmares
Like a hunter for shades and shadows

I know not any art of spiders
To cave all the emoticons and laugh
Every inch and pinch of salt
It is a fortune cookie

Every pine and pillars
It is a magic lamp
It landed on a sea
And spill over like a magic cube
It went up to a highway hill
Stood up like a lightening love
It knows not any oil spills
That has blindfolded its breathing wishes

I know this will not stand as a poem for any
I know this is not versified in any senses
I know this has lost its rhythm for many songs
I know this is a broken chain of words

Now I know where all these fortune cookies are meant to be
Now I need to buy a market to trade their lovely lattice and labor lost
Now I never will sing a song for ring roads of their mermaids and heavens
Now I dare to call upon the stars that stare at this son of black magic

When the story meets its creator
Every fortune cookie will have its meat
And then it will drink from its own vine yards

+Gokul Alex 

Poem: Young lady and the Sea

Young lady and the sea
They began a journey
In the crust of a daily mountain

Their own nimbus clouds
They soaked the earth of their own
Veins they bleed, Voids they loved
They were countless in roots and soils

Young lady walked across the shores
She could share her eyes for all the waves to come
Yet she stared at a beacon of men
Yet she stood for the caving emotions

Waves were mad and melodious
They found her young
In their wilderness they embraced her feet
Open skies where they meet
Olive leaves where they meet

Sea was full of naked weeds and algae
A gaze through the waters
A gale of the mirrors
They carved songs beyond
Ocean was waking up to the winds

Young lady and the sea
They kept their distance
At respectable ends
They traveled in parallels and prisms
They waved their hands
At miserable moments

Young lady and the sea
They loved one earth
Their songs and blood
They were ashes and clouds
Young lady and the sea

+Gokul Alex 

Poem: A Farmer's Eyes and a Sailor's Shadow

A thorough yield
On a farm field of far east
It took me time to realize
How far I am to my far east of coast

Call of my weather
Call of my winds
I sailed further and farther
To my naked coasts
Naive songs, Nimble rains
Nile of rivers, Nascent clouds

Reaching this far
I kissed my earth
Ground of my grief
Glory of my ghosts
Glad is those leaves
However scanty they are

Cast is my shadows
No longer they hide
My colors and my figures
They cast numbers on stars
Measure their light
Scope my winters
Scale my summers
Scanty my rains
Scuttle I wish my springs

Now let me see my greens
Their leveling heights
Their leafy gaze
Their spiderly gesture
Their primordial texture
Now let me be slow
In company of my greens

#Poem by +Gokul Alex

Poem: Dear all women, You made me write again and again

Dear all women, You made me write again and again
Not about beauty, not about beasts, but about my self
And the origin of my silence, snakes, silos and stillness
How much ever fast I ran, you caved my self, selflessly

I searched your depths in my gaze, in your glance, in our trance
But all fell out of shape, like a gazoid, like a river that speaks for itself
Your language of love, your symbols of seduction, your systems of life
These words may be pending for a long time, long due or long rustic

Poems are written, lost and left behind, same like the river of leaves
That gets rotten in the bread of brown grey wooden ground
I saw many roots, hanging in the wretched skins of my arms
I sketched wrecked ships of my golden past
Poems to pencils, Words to Worms, Purple to Pupil
All are an act of Engines of growth through the Pictures of life

Many roads covered, from love to lust, dream to desire
Arrogance to ambivalence, words to willows, papers to carbon capacitors
I still shiver when a pale glass window opens in front of me

A paper cup and a torus of ladders, they came back in time
And I stood by their wishes, their long beards, their stale wishes
Their history melt before mine, though I am alone, and they wander in mine
I have their fight in my mirrors, the mirrors that I name, call, scream and spit my gaze 
And I know that they never shapes up itself

Dear all woman, I borrow your silence, your strength and your sarcasm
On my ways, On my days, On my rays, On my wooden willows of whims and wickedness

 +Gokul Alex