iz and disorder

A poem is born my dear iz
Clutch its tender feet
Showing up
Through the womb of insipid Time…

A distant bell
Somehow seems enormous
Noises from another world
Far away from ours.

iz
Pull the tiny feet of baby poems
Out of me
With you painlessness is pain
Pain, painless.

Objects stay in their places
Like monotonous insignificances
A cluster of zeroes
From a shark of the past
Lays itself around me
Like tiny innocuous eggs.

iz
I stammer
You swim into my everything
Like baby fishes
You swim out of me
Like a forgotten tune.

Was it a few minutes before
When a bare nakedness
Dazzled in me?
When I flailed my fins
To capture it
In little phials called words.

iz
Love me
Like trouble
Like pain and suffering
That haunt me in this ruthless dance.

Drag me down the alleys
Of thunderstruck cities
Love me
Like nothingness.

Dust and decayed filaments
Of broken bangles
Clay
Sunlit straw
Smelling of truth

iz
Snatch away
All the lies in me
All fragments of me
That believe in order
In rearrangements and unity.

Be my chaos
Disintegrate me
Into shards of bones
And an empty nothing
Where love will dream up
A web of kisses
Trickling silver streams
Of blood and mayhem
Where love will discover
The smell of infested wood
Of burnt manuscripts
Of death and birth.

iz
Scatter my feathers
Shatter my mirrors
Let love alone be.

Why do we long
For completeness?
And for a poem
Full of pretentious meaning
That displays its wares
Like a whore?

iz
I want meaninglessness
Incompleteness
Disorder
And you.

2 thoughts on “iz and disorder

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