Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Waiting for the snakeman

the sun climbs
but the breeze still chills
the sunflower turns its back
& looks down the westward track
.
blue green butterflies
sprout from the shadows
dance to hidden melodies
& strips off the colors
.
waltzing in the darkness
that creeps up the westward path
like mist moving in oceans depth
as sure and soft as the snakeman's touch
.
the air turn dark, as dark as heaven
as sharp as desire waiting to burst
as black fantasies taking wings as a raven
as wild & cold as the snakeman's heart
.
the darkness hides the pulsating rhythm
which dances with my rising fear
and at the tune of his magic hymn
flips me over, all longings bare
.
my little toe tickled by his darting tongue
like butterflies dancing on the edge of my soul
while some small thing inside gets ready to die young
pushing small pins into this little doll
.
raw feelings slither & slip as he glides in
his slits eyes as clear as pure sin
& i touch and taste the sweet snake smell
pink moisture turns purple wet as emotions swell
.
will the fangs be bare, will today he dare
or will they stay sheathed, will he spare
.
butterflies tell me
what says my soul
?

3 comments:

ra said...

line 6 onwards....

i dont have much to say....

while there appears no obvious connection to what follows below and what you have written, i see it.
".....Now you stand there while I burn
While I cry for help
While I die
You stand there
You're smiling
Smiling....."

bring forth the core!!!

Shoonyata said...

@ra: thanks...for the connection. The beauty is when it is beyond the obvious.

WritingsForLife said...

beautiful yet again...
I know the poem talk about a different perspective but for me this "blue green butterflies
sprout from the shadows
dance to hidden melodies
& strips off the colors"

pictures a scene that i would love to be a part of :)