LUMINOSITY

There is a tremendous upheaval within me

It is a desire to be enjoyed and enjoy

My pasts, my actions-

There is a tremendous attachment within me

To the faulty and the unheard of,

Disciplined and momentary luxuries are no more

Counted against my sins and secrets-

It is a joy that beholds us all,

My youthful innocence and musings

On the innermost recesses of my being;

Where does my heart lie and what does it stand to gain-

To produce that which I lack again and again

That which will need me the most;

I am a man, an animal in its most animalistic state.

To say I am a cannibal would be wrong

But there are certainties in others which I enjoy,

A new look, a fresh feeling, a great act.

That which I value the most is love

Toward the deity that created this thought

For it could only have been me and nobody else,

So where would this deity go if not

Straight back in its shell

In its shell lies an amusing song

Taken from places unknown and mystical

Where sadhu-babas throng to wrong

Those who have been strong;

A musing that I enjoy is also strong

For supple is the opposite of wrong

And as a man I once thought I could do no wrong.

I sit in a room where no wind blows

But my skin has weathered a storm

Of madness, incompatibility and sin

But I wash it all off with a song.

Where my shell is so strong

And I can do no wrong.

Wealth and prosperity comes to us all

For a light on the beaten path

Where eagles have soared

Centuries past

However it is rare to find in an animal’s song

It has to be victorious and kept free

To roam around and sniff out

This self-defeating charm

I am happy if happy I can be at all

Without this poison that unmakes us all

I lay waste to many pieces of a song

That flow like a river of blood

Through my veins into the heart of my big estate

Beyond the walls of which I do not taste or tempt-

Anyone else’s fate

Wrong is he who tries to be

And tries not to see

Anyone else’s shoes

For pain and repentance are crude

And privileged is he who can write as his heart desires

Most of which are co-conspirators of fame, name and gain

And dire this mystical desire of breaking free

Of this witty shellfish which most of the time

Makes no sense of itself

But goes on beating its own name

Against the fires that burn us all

In one maddening moment of torment

Rushing into its torrent

Proven too chaotic is a soul of markets

Or a market of souls

Where glasses are sold and milkshakes made

For little sleepy babes

To form their gentle caress

Against my skin

That weathers a storm

Today, tomorrow and again

To grow

TOSHAM