Poem: When I wake up as a Chess board !

This may have ended up as a puzzle
Or a game of chances lost in past
Or a maze of doors locked in between
Or a face of jumbled senses and ages
But I have set a few secret questions
Of a PoetQuest, Of an Intellect Explorer

... I gaze and whisper like a wicked ship

When I wake up
I may be a myth of oceans
I may hold my breathing tree
I may swap my will to pieces

When I kindle my spirits
I may have lost its sheen
I may have weathered a blindness
I may become a rattling snake
I may spite poison or ashes
I may turn coat and wind my needles

When I behold my tongue
I must have lost my love for answers
I must have lost my urge to question
I must have lost my repulse to regrets
I must have lost my naked skins
I must have lost my purple wishes

When I bask in memories of mist
I should pay back my solitude
I should shrink my veins
I should crush my irons
I should fresh my fist
I should flesh my love

Else for all and others in time
I am a chess board of nine lives
Seven colors and just two lives left

+Gokul Alex 

Poem: When the Rain Bleeds Red

I know a color which we call red
But I see only blood and flowers around

Here again rain bleeds red, shivering skins
Spell bound witches, Silent Myths, Streams of August

I see a leaf of life which all of us eat as green
But I know only when it kisses ground and turn pale

Mirrors yet again, who is the culprit?
My time, My space, My face, My facades

Rivers again, full of anger and mist
Why should I step into the waters again?

I tried a life of all sorts in a palette
Now fallen asleep in frozen pictures

Why do they dry my eyes?
When I am ready to iron out the differences

Open ends of a Golden knife
They turn coat at every cross roads

I bought them at large
Larger than life, longer than my breath, lesser than my lips

Now I know all the colors
They never lied to me, Nor they will ever

The palette is blank yet again
Last time it was born as a Blanket of love

In the summer of idylls, when the rain bleeds love
When the silence breeds itself, another shell ruptures

+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 

Why I love a White Noise!

A crowd so white
I searched everywhere
Found none but noises white and grey


Why I wish for a crowd
to stamp my head to ground?
And make me realize the taste of soil
Its soild pills, stale heat, and still roots
Once again for ever

I know once I held my head
high as a flag
in whitewashed castles
floating as a kite

Now I need to kneel
Down under my feet
I love to crawl once again
At least once like a snake
If not a gentle silver lizard
And to predict the lies
And to erase the truths

I preyed in my own darkness
It is all white now
White as in white noise
Grey as in grey cells
Black as in black boxes
Green as in green games
Yellow as in pale yellows
But ends meet on a white noise

#Gokul

Wonder that is a Woman

Wonders of her mind :
She unfolded like a little rain
That was waiting for my weathers
She entangled my eyes with silky words
May be I was a rain-forest before

Only to wish a better morning
I wished her sweet dreams
Not knowing the cast of plays
that web her dreams and nights
that cast a shadow on her eyes
that craves for humble waters
that coils round the hands of a little child

Behind the whys and ifs of her
I found a little child
woke up so early in her nights
silent so late in her songs
half said, half being unwritten

Wonders in her little breath
That Only she knows
Wonders in her special smiles
Wonders in her web of questions
It is a journey called woman
That I venture now and ever
From the origin of silence
Through the mist and oak woods
Through the valleys of wishes
Through the silky words and snakes of charm

She herself was a wonder to her
In her web of questions
In her closed ends of skies
In her unknown knots
In her spellbound dreams
I am just a traveler

For her, her childhood and her future
Wonder that is a woman
No wonder why I still wander in her silence

Wonders of her words:
A woman is a woman
Godard* said
Wonder that is woman
No body said, as far as I know

We make stories on her
As if she is a headless coin
That we can toss forever

We believe she is shallow like a song
We believe in her imminent depths
So as to cross her forever

Wonder that is woman
Why do you need her mysteries
When she herself has no stories of her own
All she needs is a mist in your days
All she love is a song in her little roads 

#Gokul Alex

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* Jean Luc Godard - A French Film Maker 

Fire knows nothing ...

Every fire will meet its end
A perpetual sea of ashes

Every fire will see its tongue
A shivering leaf of love

Every fire will eat its own meat
A soliloquy of hate and love

Every fire will embrace its death
A bond of darkness in some valleys

Every fire will shine its own skin
A graveyard is born every second

Every fire knows not its meaning
A pain and a few flowers become ash

Every fire will hide in its chimneys
When it sails past its desires

Every fire is irrational, impulsive and crawling
As it knows its origin of hunger and lust

#Gokul

An Ode to Darkness

A pitch blend
A carbon black
A lead pebble
A curl of roots and leaves
A radiant jewel of beaches
A curse of blindfolded wisdom
A mind of wrinkled viscera
A myth of worms and walkers
I know various colors of darkness
I know they pity them
That I knew them never before

My eyes ever loved the red
Even the seaweeds were rose petals underneath
I know they laugh at me
When I shy away at their dark bloods now

Odor of black
Order of melancholy
Odd tints of mud
Ordains of minced meats
Ornamental rituals
Orifices of blood and fury
Even dark leaves of olive
Elliptical curves of iris
Eclipse of the daring moon
Enigma of the dying mountains
Energy of the clouding ashes
I know they play with me now
When I wanted them to silence my foes

Darkness never fails its preys
Darkness never feels its depths
Darkness never perishes at nights
Darkness never ages with lights
Darkness never climbs any mountains
Darkness never mourns at any death
As it knows only to survive its days and dreams

#Gokul