Rings of Smoke

These poems do not live: it's a sad diagnosis.

a midsummernight’s dream

Posted on | October 6, 2006 | 2 Comments

its near on midnight,
and a few bars of silvery moonlight,
fall on my feet through the window,
calling to mind ersatz memories-
of the nights that never happened,
and imagination pushes to the front of conscious,
your face;yet again-

i touch your locks,
and think back,
to all the desires that went unfulfilled,
those words that i did not say,
and i wonder evermore,
would that have made a difference-
to the so many things that we could have been-
and were not destined to be?
to the house of cards that i built,
perhaps it would have survived,after all-
had i said the words;maybe?
i know you knew.
would saying the words have made a difference?
perhaps i might have convinced you?

no depth of drunkenness,
and yet your face would not dissolve,
as in my dream,i lock my lips on yours’
for the passionate kiss that never materialised-
i stroke with my fingers the satin of your body,
and nerves stretched with desire,
create the music of taut lute-strings..
as our bodies touch each other,
and your hot breath in my face,
ignites deep seated carnal fires-
i keep on dreaming,
of a union of body and soul-
a union of me and you.

each complete in the other,
or incomplete without-
in the night,i kiss your lips,
and run my fingers through your hair,
and lose myself in the depth of your black eyes..
shiny embers of a love that could never be-
my fingers,creating heavenly symphonies with yours’
and our bodies,merging in gentle rhythm…

i set out to create love out of nothing;
and ended up creating nothing out of love!!

but the sweat on my feverish brow dries up,
its only a midsummer night’s dream-
and my cheeks feel the cold harness of a concrete floor,
my palms splayed in front,
clutching naught;not your locks-
and my eyes-
burn again,with remembered guilt,not passion..
i set out to cteate love out of nothing;
and ended up creating nothing out of love…

broken trust crunches against my heart,
like shattered glass on a concrete floor,
and in the broken pieces of shattered imagery,
i search for the fragments of my life…

thats my story-
i searched for me,and found you..
and lost both-
a midsummer nigt’s dream..
soon forgotten,unreal as life-
etched on my heart in acids of blood-
love-
equivalent to naught.

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Category: english poetry
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Comments

2 Responses to “a midsummernight’s dream”

  1. Cuckoo
    September 28th, 2008 @ 4:17 pm

    Excellent !! Can’t say more. :)

  2. sandeip
    September 28th, 2008 @ 5:41 pm

    @cuckoo

    thank you.that is more than enough :d

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