Poem: Land of Commoners

Commoners, we commoners
Coiners, we coiners
Our eyes, feverish eyes, they were fond of slit and slings
Our peaks, senile peaks, they found solace in sewage

Our eyes, their roller coaster rides
In the streets with uncommon winds
Stranger to self, those eyes were glittering cold
Blood of sheen, Bath of Beams
We found a street full of mesh and mistakes

Pity our eyes, Pity their lens
For they never reflect the truth of the nerves

Eyes: born are they mirrors to be
Eyes: bound are they lies to be
Eyes: burned are they bound to be
Eyes: beamed are they babies to be

All around the body we adored them
commoners, we commoners
coiners, we coiners

We charmed the other darkness
Where eyes could hide from walls and walls

Flies like a fish market, Filth like a rodent canals
Fumes like a failed chimney,

Eyes, they counted the uncountable
Eyes, they coined the clutter and clusters
Eyes, they cursed the silence and the silenced
Eyes, they creature the calmness and callous

Commoners, we commoners
Cohorts, we cohorts
Cosmos in coins, they coined the world
Eyes of them, Ever circling the uncommon winds

+Gokul Alex 

Poem: A Lizard in a Garden

A Lizard in a Garden

Fresh of life
Is not lost in wild
It comes near and dear
And a lizard is born in a garden

It turned coats and spells
It skinned by instincts
Aimed the walls
But never surmounted them
Born as a reptile
Brave as a snake
Primitive of the forms

And now it bridged my silence
And now it spaces my mist

Lizard in the greens
Lizard with black dotted skin
It just was a passer by
On my way to a Tuesday morning

Neither of us where bothered of each other
Like other humans too
We crossed each other, lest nor stared and frowned
We mean each other, least by life of our own
We make space for each other, in verticals of time

Lizard in a plastic garden
It was just as amused as I am
Seeing the lusty winds
Lure of money, Lost smiles

Lizard was a wizard, I know for sure
Time was his slave, Space was his circuit

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

Rain of Senses, Ripples of Time

Rain of Senses, Ripples of Time - My Poem published in PoetrySoup.com: 

Long sheath or shadow, it is so fragile and delicate

I am in , I am out, yet I know 

it is so much there 

It is wrecked like an unwanted ship, incline to my thoughts 

I am in, I am out 

like a child for an eternal womb 

I am wild, I am wolf, for a dancing forest of many ages 

Senses are glued to it, as it resonates my songs 

All I know is it has waves, periods, cycles, rains, seasons and songs too

We know it by pale ripples 

And the wrinkled faces of all those mirrors 

Time, its stealthy wishes 

They stood next to my horrible evenings 

I mediatate, I contemplate, I vision, I corrupt, I collect

I kill My senses, My lovable lusty mind and body

And their unknown roots and leaves

Yet they live and know, die and unlearn all by itself 

When I ripple, I crawl and I cry in the songs of time 

And you see just and must, a little echoes and ripples in time

+Gokul Alex

Poem: Nature and Eye

What is to live a life without smile
When he gazed at me I just saw an eye to eye
I, and this world are seeing each other
Eye, and this world, both mutant, are seeing this world

In his oddities, in his feverishness
In his sunrise, in his suntan
In his summer, in his songs
I see a silent giant of past

From strange self to self estranged
I traverse a land of kites
From head to tail, waves alone

Where is to hide from this world of disguise
Where there is no fading meadows
Where there are no loving nests
Where there is only one abode left

Keeping an eye closer to chest
I ventured a stalking night
I pierced my own darkness and pains
I pitied my own thorns of flesh

How do they talk to my other
How do they eye my shadows
Do they really see my distant dreams

Nature and I, we see each other
Nature and I, we saw each other
Nature and I, we steal each other
Nature and I, we step in to each other
And that brings me home to the land of kites

+Gokul Alex 

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