Short Slackened Poems

...tarred ticker was tucked beneath
the slackened sleeves of soaked spleen;
but now, her gaze sets it free...

    '21:01:09:21:57

Note: of hoisted heart....

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Tears
the garbage stone in my heart!

Tears 
the wild mountain in my mind!

these tears 
do not let the heart-mind fly willingly 

o'
shed it;
devastate it

Let the heart-mind be slackened to fly to unchained


-March 24, 2019 Chattogram...

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the first onrush of delight swept them away
for a while into the open sea of fond memories
and vague, tender feelings;

then it gradually slackened into an uneasiness
that descended into a quiet embarrassment,
something mutually unsettling;

feelings about half-remembered guarded secrets 
of a long-forgotten time that bubble up close 
to the surface of here, of now....

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skeptical swollen sore
garnishing gaunt gores
damped dungs dripping
flawed flavor fermenting
airy atmosphere puking
taunted translation trailing

burnished body brooding
felony fluid fiddling
dark desires dangling

scared emotions moistened
sumptuous sanity slackened
luminous lust darkened

amaranthine ambiguity flickering
vile vision smirking.
     19:12:01:12:13...

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Living
is to crystallize into candid shards,
fragile as the tremble of a glass too full;
is to pierce oneself like the sun
sews ray to ray across its mighty core;
is the center to which the ocean
folds in on itself,
glittering a gown of sand
into kaleidoscopic swirls
of glass and salty mists,
flaking lips.
Existence eagerly dips its pale toes in,
sea water slipping through slackened eyes.
It seeps back whence it derived:
a cage of bones....

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Sometimes restrictions made
Have to be let go
When profit is irresistible
When business is globalized
Sometimes restrictions made
Have to be let go
When rescue is wanted instantly
When life is more precious
Sometimes restrictions made by man
Have to be slackened by man 
Just for a win-win-situation 
Or for the sake of humanity
But oh my God
It should never be misused
For a conspiracy
An injustice treatment
An abuse of privilege
Or a touch of racism...

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Flying things
 
I once saw a flying pig
there was a hard wind blowing from the east.
over the bay of Cascais
The wind slackened and dropped the pig
that was alive and swimming ashore
alas, where men with knives waited.
Every café was serving pork in all its form
a pig is versatile for human consumption.
Can`t say the same for my little donkey
on the terrace, it costs me a fortune in carrots
but it has sweet-smelling droppings which
I dry and sell to rose lovers....

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Your cupped hands
held a globe, and


when your fingers
slackened,
I fell away to
darkness, feeding
on plankton,
gasping air
through a thousand
miles of sand,
the sadness thundered
against chambers 
of my heart
threatening to
wash the flotsam
of me away


But I held fast
I am more than
chambers of flesh
and blood,
in the minute 
particles that
makes up the magic
that is me 


the cracks of my faults
splinter my nuclei 
as I explode into strings...

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