PANGS

1.

"Have you ever seen a dry leaf,dead,
Amber,crunchy to the touch,in
Folds of devouring flames?
Lapping it up,licking it forth,
Within and without,working its infernal tongue?

A fatal embrace,crackling and electric
Subsuming its veins;that once had life
With another life,a life lived immolating to final nullity.
O yes,the fire has a forked tongue,
Hissing,smouldering,caressing,inviting.

Like a forbidden touch to a forbidden place,
A tenor of waves up the spine,
Up to the brain boiling in its liquids,
Passing through to scalding flesh.
Flesh.Flesh that reverberates,quivers,
Tongue,flesh,touch,lustily pure,absolute
Defiled by nothing,all feeling and
Sensation.

The withering,moaning leaf
In the arms of its nemesis,ripped apart,
Exhumed,exhausted,ravished,ravaged.
"O it is nothing",you smile and say----
"A forest fire in the Andes;a common geographical occurence".
Ask the devastated vegetation,going
Up in so much spiritual smoke."


2.


The parched earth painfully awaits,
Scarred about with cracks and fissures
In arrested stillness : agonizing to the eyes.
Scarcely moving,an infinity of fixity.
Waiting,biding for that one drop
Crystal and luscious to descend from space
Charged with the force of heavens
To fall and scatter its graveyard silence.

Invigorate,Infiltrate the creaking crevices,
The arid torpor pervading the choking stems,
Chunks of clay that have clung together with morbid terror,
With the nectar of life,the element of evanescence.
Rushing through,reviving,replenishing,
Revisiting,resusciating,regenerating.
One drop,a single stellar speck
To remind the earth that it is thirsty,
Oh! so long,so tantalizingly thirsty.
One drop,an infinitesimal dot to set
The wheel in motion,Create,Impregnate.

The labouring earth awaits : a puny sapling,
Grand and green stretches its crumpled shoot."