SUCH AN ENIGMATIC PORTFOLIO
by Kamalendu Nath

Such an Enigmatic Portfolio
Of Phantasm Dreams– 

            Out of Nothing, a rising on
this candle-wick, this sudden flame,
that thing borne out of a spark, two parents’
endeavors, replaces a Nothing with a virgin flame;
though upon a snuffer back whence it came: nothing
was the charred wick-end then a dream of a phantasm reality?
Born of Nothing – back to nothing: the spark, the flame; and so
which dream had this candle light danced on a shadow cast
dark by bright or had it – what of that heat, no matter how
slight left behind, also of oxygen into carbon dioxide,
is this how it is in each transition, birth to death
renews the dent in a set of nesting dreams?
Not unlike my own trek of a flame about
to embrace nothing, as own strikers in
unison two; I’ve been a striker too
in a Phantasm duality – how to
define a Nothing then? It’s
not in its devoid of Sun at night time or
no stars in the daytime; for they’re there at all
times, toying Earth, invisible to naked eyes… true
nothing embodies no spaceno timeno physical laws,
beyond our grasps; yet we know we’re of clouds: out of
nothing likens Om: mother of all creations… celestial-clouds
floating in space, seeding this universe; harbinger of all things on
this Earth – water-vapor-clouds that drenches us in and out…
then there awaits my own ash-clouds ready to float nay
wink beneath a pristine mirror, will it settle in a set
of nesting dreams or to a conspirator’s scribble
beyond all ever known to an unknown but
for the wonders this Earth has endlessly
borne, surely, of elusive gems a gem
– this Nothing

For Comes Once



Craving beneath all-encompassing wingspan-shelter, a
Solace below a Giant bird’s, no matter how – Extinctive
Utter darkness lurking within, ever so panic of ‘Those’
And ‘Them’, shame clouds self-loathing on – Frailty

Flow, flow; flow or not: mandate hovers over the Prime edict, all on a
Steady motion thru hidden terrains, what shape it’ll be is unforeseen;
While renewing own spirits on them blessed kiss from such varied
Sets of inter- and intra-species bliss, to profit on a global comity;
Stark reflection out of hanging blue, clean image seen through –
Pure rapture enjoining such triumph, sate prudence – Euphony

Diverted from such Dictates of water flow, morphs when

            Fitfully, as to clasp on a putrid marsh – Naturality
Or the lily blooms on a silky waterhole, chance still-gift,
Instead of throngs’ demon, new hopes – Expressivity

Balked from the Dictate: flow, flow, flow; stems when a captive does
Bloom in a vulgar regionality, leading to a calamity; usurping fallow
fierce tribalism, loud-taunt monotones: VuVuzelas – born of a far off
summoner – Kudu horn; or Thunderclaps in unison, of picking up on
crescendo “HUH!” war-chant: cheers; tearing, jumping; zany waves
turning Civility on to its head: Evility, riling up a tribe: Putrid Marsh

Bulls-eye ethos vow: The Insecure One would
hurl locust swarm to rape Their fields
And the Secure One? Would
Greet bees to their own, a nectar-feast!
To each his own – Fidelity
Whether the cause be real or delusional,
the answer rests in one’s own ego bent
if they Crown an iffy Ringmaster
tribe’s future on blindfolds be so paved
not Platinum but shinny Tin
                                                                                    – Blip on a Screen

On its Axis                                                                                                                       

Tantalizing morn draws on yester’s dying; just out of bed, I stand by the open casement
Window
And see two restless skewed obscure glows, through the crowding trees, not in the East;
Cared not for my cell-phone-click – were in the
West.

It’s not in the death but in the dying, so much rests; she’s on this hospital bed: how to
Carry on a discourse, methought, steer the slippery slope, what I’d like to
Know –

How misconstrued a legacy we wear – never fancy – if ever; but we never care:
Sunrise – A Sunrise? – Really?
It’s no bother for the Sun; since it’s really that belaboring Earth which’s
Circling
On its tilted axis: starts a day when she faces the Sun that’s cogitating on its own axis…
Us
Admiring now, Sun is up and racing down, till it sets: clowns
Distraught.
Same for the night-sky, where wanderers be not the stars but just us, on a delusory
Gall!

Consciousness is nothing if not the sum of all perceptions, what this moment holds;
And she has opted out of any treatment; not
On bygone diagnosis of a pancreatic prime – switched just now to
Lungs, where a better prognosis holds; she
Fronts an end in a flashing-eye-sunflower-field-exuberance, on
What she’d quip unabashedly of oozy pond
Bubbles surfacing: not real, she’d smirk, but when’s torrent
You’d not know them challenged cleaning…
Oh! she so wishes the downfall of the
President… on her own jobs she’d
Recall
Sorrow in leaving that IRS post; clerking last… no, no, no.
No regrets at having no child… Sometimes I’m angry –
Sometimes I’d cry… on tears she’d spell her
    Wish: these last days (months) I’d like
To be with my greatest friend, my
Love of all these years: Mom:
She’d arrange for her on
Skewed axis of the
Float
Bobbing on a roily pool; we bid her adieu past high noon; sadly, there’s another: a leg-
Blood-clot; regardless of opioids dot life to fold but the frailty won’t let death go as
In the rearview mirror vanishes her lease; lights giftof Mom’s miracle comfort.

Of Violence –


So many impacts crown a moment – wherein lies some
Plots unperceived.  How many of those dwarf a giant’s
Crown? How expansive such crowns glint may scroll?
Chapters elude not a fire, matchstick hire kindling more
Than a forest inferno, never higher, higher than higher –

            Vice grip sprouts jugular sprays, hunger colors bed
So much Red; had it known this thirst for thrust, surely not
a sequel to hunger’s trap; soaked in an irony then – in what
just ensued on a kill the victor in now victim’s id, as if in a
fog unfurls denial shaking mane: prey-soak-roar!

            Seizing, roaming shape-shifters as in a loonies’ veil
Heavenly-bodies sojourn delight but for the angry alter-ego
Collisions – vicious disputes rout millions discharge, and if
not for the charge-sink: a greedy Earth in wait, wolfish pull
is not fast enough: strident zig-zag boom hell!

            Bedevils life’s hunger upon conceivable siren song a
sole violence winner in a battlefield of millions vying driven
Squiggly ejaculates, for lone bullseye: slit its latent treasures
In a Sequential geyser and switch-on Armageddon for a lone
Plan: Divide, DIVIDE: unfold the new life!

            In blink of an eye, as if all that cursed, all that barren
Wrought by a relentless violence, spumes earth-skin-fracture
But not its heart, deep down waits warmth of a mother’s love.
Opportune moment vindicates ages of Andosols when it’s to
morph violent hunger: landscape paint green –

Hunger of all hungers, mars a Super-star violence chaos, as
Supernovae star-dusts do seed a galaxy, crown a planet thus
in veiled gold ergo blind hunger’s bet; not unlike of a slit in
that unknowable sphere violent expulsion out a canal, births
unique life, just as violently sucked in time, to an oblivion                                                                                                                           – Hunger BookendsImagine

On a weakening stem hangs an apple, ripe;
on a strong stem is a bloom, full of smiles;
waiting out each frigid downpour together
unawares, not uncommon, they’re abreast.

To Sun’s sparkle on the similar drops the
young tart blossom sees but guests.
Glistens mirrors on glazed skin reflecting
by-gone-recall album, fresh at rest.

But for a passing of sly wicked storm, fury spells
our tree lots, on a thud hit carpet-ground; there
in an embrace our young love finds herself caught on
a seasoned skin – veteran of all life dreams; alas, betrayed:
Lost at Best

About the Author:

Kamalendu Nath, an emeritus professor of Long Island University, NY, resides in Effingham, New Hampshire, USA and seeks rhythm in Nature, including Human Nature through poems.  Some of his poems have appeared in the Twisted Tongue; Barfing Frog; The One Eight Three; Vermont Literary Review; Worlds Within Worlds Beyond; A Hudson View Poetry Digest International Collection; Thresholds Literary Journal; Palimpsest; The Aurorean and others as well as in two anthologies: The Poets’ Guide to New Hampshire.

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