Poetry: February 29, 2004

The stars were leaning out of sight 
I stretched my eyes into the night
And threw them at the bats
(though they were really pigeons in pirate hats)
who'd been cursing at the light 
then, I heard a whisper that 
sent sparkles like seeds 
in the air through the lanes that night feeds
I was startled by a hush 
She was made as a sharp rebuke to the wise 
still, I made my pass, 
though I slowed my rush

 


the last word 
was the second
from the third
I love you


The price of paradise 
is that you have to
fight like hell 
everyday
to keep it yours.


Love moves at the speed of light
Which explains Love at first sight 
Except for the second guessing 
Your lips would already be pressing!


If someone tells you: 'you don't smell like a rose' 
say to them: 'then maybe you should go and blow your nose'


My critics say
I like to ramble 
but my ramble
is just preamble
to bust your sample
Paradise is not so simple
and the middle ground has no face
if it has a pimple
and the squatters at the door 
can only see pleasure through the eyes of a fog
and its chariot is pulled 
by a salty dog 
who licks what's on the floor
is bad with numbers 
but knows the score
there,
my poetic license has been renewed
unless I get published, then of course 
I'm screwed.


Drowining in a sea of doubt
now I cast your mother out
I send her back to the stolen pearls
her winter torment blotted out
blood on the rampage stained the wool of lamb
scarlet, a colour whose pain could give a damn 
as long as there were dividends 
that paid off in fresh wounds
I never should've put it in
the cat is stepping off again 
into a different room
where new air circulates 
dna is not tossed and flipped for rates
scientific matter masturbates so baby don't go boom!
I,
with no more hands in my pocket,
say: ' keep the chain but not the locket '


upon whose nail was I supposed to rest my potential?
favours are weighed in the balance of surrender
and the battles not lost in the Jaguars 
and the brothels of Brussels are filled with slumping men
spitting out worries and crying to a slag 
whose eyes fix like daggers
is stingy with her Jones 
but never with her Jaggers
and will only roll stones which convert into coins
only Tarzan has missed her loins 
though since he went Hollywood he's now in debt 
and looking for fresh Jane
she's moved on I bet
back in the jungle
and swinging on the vines 
that still remain



HOW MANY PEOPLE THERE ARE IN MY WORLD DEPENDS ON YOU
I only promise to be true 
To the veins that connect us but split us in two 
Trade me your neuroses for new roses
I'll plant in you
I promise not to pull out early 
And will shatter the roadblocks 
where gates are pearly 
 



COPYRIGHT SANANDA MAITREYA - MILANO 29th FEBRUARY 2004
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED