The Stripper

The persistence of memory, and reverie
shines hot in the smelly music
from under the fiddle of your petal whisper

They tar and feather those dreams
with Bad girl and sordid drooling.

Yet you are a delicate purple symphony
after I sing.

The Price we pay.

When we together but separate
walk friendly footsteps on alien sands,
The half moon melts
it’s fledgling silver romance on hazy ripples
unsure if the water is ready for a tide
giving form to our dither...

When your stride becomes urchin
and smiles turn to giggles
the wine unleashes my warm
seductive caresses
surreptitiously on your cheeks
in ardent crimson blotches of my veiled desire...

When I walk away from you
Without a kiss or a cue
the clock tower measures in two swift chimes
what we’ve lost in miles and years
and the river is jade
with my envy for
the scarlet sunset that will
cradle you every evening...

Inspiration

If you long jealously
to inhale the subcutaneous glow
that whirls in me
And offer your ear
to the contagious feelings
of the first realization...

Then sneak up on me
my dear fecundity
with your elliptic waist,
and nibble all over
the ratty craven noncore with
your sharp tongue,

so survives only glistening spine
and writhing nerve...
and my vigorous spirit.

The sole new direction
in the tangled darkness
of your tepid heart.
The lone conclusive nemesis
of the ice age in your breast.

Love: Such a long way to arrive at a kiss !

In the mood for love

This film, based on a short story, left me quivering. The premise is that of two neighbors in 1947 hong kong who find out that their respective partners are having an affair. But it really is a exploration of how attraction sits much deeper in our subconscious than feelings of pride or social obligation, and can creep up on us, through holes and crevices that we subconsciously leave open for it, even when our conscious mind is trying hard to stay away from it.

Wong Kar Wei employs slow motion photography with great power to manipulate and intensify the emotions. There are many scenes in the movies which are almost like photographs with slow steady smoke going up in circles as the only moving entity. Also his use of gray and sepia tones along with a medley of tunes from classical opera to Cuban boleros (they were popular in hongkong during that time) is haunting. I have to see the sequel to it now (it’s called 2046).

Irony

Ultra-sonic screams
“love me, please!”
I can only shout them
Cerebellum to cerebrum
Id to ego
And not without jack on the rocks.

My head a puffer fish
bloated with hope and
toxic with envy.
You eat it raw
wasabi and soy
a green perfidy
in a sour brown sea.

Grief rises like beer head
I slurp it in
Without spilling a drop…
And pour some more.

Close the taps! honeybun
on the reservoir of guilt
You are inebriated enough
with it.

Dreams used to be
White blood cells
Recently I have developed
Multiple sclerosis.
I lusted for Nirvana
Desire is what I crave now...