POEM

i remain an open window

how many summers

do I remain open as

winds blow hot, blow cold

into this ghost house of absence?

images move in like hungry hawks

tear open the insides only to

move out in sunset thoughts

in their homeward flight

in ruthless gesture they walk in

announcing the death of moons

satiated, they move out

the window now opened wider

desires coagulate on their way

from dreams to nightmares.

if only i could down the shutters

if only i could raise a wall

grenades of male sharpness 

fly in unabashed

and pierce through my consciousness

i watch helpless

the pile of shrapnels rise

yet remain the mute chiseled window

linking outside to inside

an innocent destiny remains grilled

to concrete walls

of the ghost-house of absence

if only i could pen verse

if only i could write a song.