Today am serving service
Wrapping Sunday
With ribbon of biblical verses
Rolling the pulpit dice
Playing puppet strings on scribes heads
On silver plates
Before they scroll on The Revelation
May the old gods forgive me
New gods cajole Dan Brown-like conspiracy with me
If am a regressed soul who looked back
Hope I turn into salt
To flavor your taste in life
Because I doubt pledges of our lives
Of a being that that’s supreme
I take my doubts to bed
Warm sheets clinging on my mind
With the heat, conceive answers of puzzles
Questions puzzling me
I hear starburst sound
Ring in my unsound sanity
Sanctioning voices I try to fathom
Holding my thoughts in ransom
Asking “You sery!
What next after grim reaper hands you the visa”
I won’t jam to the beats of the dump
“Living forever young”
I'm not Peter Pan.
I want to be snow haired
Wilting grey as crumpling leaves.
Un -living but not forgotten
My face plastered in memories like Cain’s sin
The crowd sings ‘long lives that Sery kid’
My name, in edges of their tongues like cursed words
My poetry, teardrops of secrets unheard
Transcending holes of past and future
Today am serving service
Choir hallelujah voices precipitate in the air
Mouths full of fresh prayers
In mortuary robes, cleansed feet
Glittering in jibes
Doing the gang sign
Awaiting the pearly gates of St. Peter
The afterlife
The Rejuvenation, Rebirth, Return, Reincarnation
Opium of hope.
Maybe we better not
We should take our seat
Let the wind flirt with palm trees
Our breath sashay through daylight and darkness
Black dark nothingness waits our gaze
After all this, there is no Afterlife.
Am a son of Mithras
Re-tracing footprints from the end
To get the picture of the beginning
What begins after this is due
When fullstops hold true
I seek the truth in the ages of men
Leaning to the stroke of Da Vinci’s brush
Half woman, half man. Mona Lisa is smiling
to the balance, the path
Divinity of Equilibrium
Life and death
I no longer fondle the oblivion
Tame the invertible
Learnt the pedigree of existence
Each being that comes to being breaks
From dust we came, to dust we go
We are that grounded to the core
Will either be send off as ashes to the four winds
Dancing with jellyfish in an ocean
Or holed as festive sacrifice to worms in coffin
So I rub my palms in Sufism
Like Rabae
Take a bucket of water and drench flames of hell
Use torch to burn the gates of paradise
So people will love God
Not for fear of hell and want of heaven
Because He is God
And this is life, its one
Short but big, if isn’t colorful dress it in pink
Today I have served service.
by Sery
AGES OF NERAHISM
