Ceiling corners

Lying in bed
Smoking hookah with Rumi
Staring at the ceiling
With walls made of shadows.
The scent of agarwood in the air coming from the kitchen;
Drafty rose and all things eastern and holy
My skin oozes with warm toned oil
A tasty blend of nature, dirt, rain in the city,
Lotus, lily, ice cream, rose, opium and something tremendously unsatiated
Like the mystery in ancient stories;
Arabian nights,
Just like the way baba used to tell it.
This still of the night;
A lonely bug crawls
With a burden on his back,
On a mission
Across this enclosure that’s so alive, so open
With moths
Buglettes
Spiders, possibly
Caterpillars, hopefully, like the ones from my childhood
Lizards, lizard lovers, families, dramas;
They once used to be my friends.
I could lie in bed and watch them for hours; their shadows, like dragons.
Nighttime
The sound of silence and bells from women praying
Nighttime
The sound of static radio and the news theme playing
Virtuous strings and purposeful tablas; the world was full of important, manly things
But I
I was too entangled
In my own world,
Upside down
Marveling at the architecture
Of this funhouse
With walls made of peculiar corners
And a floor made of ceiling.

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Vishnu sleeps

Vishnu sleeps
Amid an ocean of glistening gems
His chest heaves up and down, slowly
Like the waves.
The waters are gentle and warm
And they tease his skin sometimes
Making him smile at their playfulness.

Vishnu sleeps, above a bundle of anxious nerves
He sleeps sheltered underneath the umbrella of a cobra head
There’s gentle sounds of bells lulling him from somewhere
There’s a shower of fragrant flowers soothing his senses from the heavens above
There’s a soft glow in the rays from the sun god to the side
There’s a water goddess who he dreams of.

Vishnu sleeps, floating amass a boundless universe
Vishnu sleeps, through creation
Preservation
Destruction.
The rivers overflow, the waterfalls rush down, the mountains crumble,
The volcanoes erupt, the ground rips apart,
And the vegetation freezes.
The world thaws, the butterflies come back,
Children laugh and hold hands
And the elderly wave their goodbyes
Life goes on,
And on
and on
in disappearing circles.

Vishnu sleeps,
His chest heaving up and down, slowly
Cushioned over a bundle of wrecked serpentine nerves
His face glowing
His lips, smiling
Vishnu sleeps consciously
amid an open warm ocean
Deep
Inside the heart.

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