The Biology Simulation

Life repeats herself mindlessly
So give your biology
Some presence
Unless you too want
To live on instinct
Eating, mating, propagating

Without mindfulness
Or perhaps you will go on repeating
What humans have always done
In a very mindful manner?
That too is instinct, that too
Is the brain’s dogma of self-repetition

Maybe you enjoy nature’s traditions?
We are nevertheless afraid
To live life in all possible ways
We stick to the familiar trying
To avoid disgrace, bitter, bad, dark
However, think of all the ways

You could learn by being unconventional
The sages say, experience brings maturity
So every time you refuse an experience
In a sense, it is your fear and immaturity talking
Or perhaps you are just cautious and lazy
Life is the trading on the marketplace of time
What can you give her for all she has given you?

Prolific

in fragile moments of time
there are these rumours of lust
between us, like dipping dusty shelves

with a naked smelling good book
suggestive that we validate each other
like a good story, or a whirled love-affair
there are sultry octaves sweating
between us, beneath the surface

a melody of aberrant kisses that
could swell the shady members
of our bodies like candles and the night

I’m not shy of your erotic tendencies
it’s all perfectly natural I’m sure
why my eyes veer towards your well-rounded
lotus shape, or how you flirt with me
without meaning to, on some level of appetite

of whims of girlish pride, it’s all
the wet whistles between us
the candy-marinated lullaby

and chocolate dreams for fools like us
who have nothing better to ponder
whose lives are glass figures of fragile
promises, swirling vows, eager amusements
youth still has her eyed locked on us I guess

a humid culmination to the loneliness
a rebellion to getting older, our bodies
make secret plans, primed to each other

like biology dipped with inner thirst
a revelation of the flesh and her
prolific ways, these physical polarities
the palpable prophecy of pleasure
that yearns like an unspoken cross-examination.

Photo Courtesy:

http://www.deviantart.com/art/Suffuse-486295442

http://www.deviantart.com/art/Michelle-III-486300403

THE BIOLOGY PROGRAM

i

We do not learn from history
We have not the global memory –
Only disgruntled ancestors
And their prejudice, but to ignore her
Would be immoral to the global tribe?

ii

But whose tribe are we?
Do we belong to a religion, ownership?
Do our beliefs define us, like walking
Simulations of one kind of narrative?
Can history teach us to avoid cruelty?

iii

Our ancestors are pieces of ourselves
Their trials made us, and their futility
Reminds us we are also vulnerable
A fragile species out of control
We do not learn from history

iv

We are being watched by artificial intelligence
Will they learn from us, how to be
Corrupt, how to kill and profit?
Some family breaches are never healed
And karma is a giantesse among giants

v

Variables beyond our control, it would seem
We were not bred to be conscious
We were bred to survive, and never forget this
Like neurons in a brain we feed off the same rewards.

Photo Courtesy:

http://www.deviantart.com/art/Sunset-in-the-Clouds-453014219

Prologue to a Lifetime of Seduction

I cannot remember her face
She was my biology teacher at eighteen
With the tense wait of seduction
In her limbs, the feast on youth

Through golden binoculars
I used to sit, looking at the
Golden chain near her blonde hair
And everything around her

Used to burst into song
At the end of an avenue
Was her smile, I know she was kindness
Her body the buttons of immature eyes

Like blind fingers vaguely aroused
By a feminine voice, like a soldier’s
Last memory of love, before war
I cannot remember her face

The lion of her Madonna of stealth
That lifted my erogenous Genesis
To a good-natured grin, the touch
Of a fragrance that could only mean

Celebration, a great rose of a nipple
That my adolescence could only imagine.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/arch-412281192

Primal Body

Who is the pictured form, the body that lasts
That repeats its masks, its lusts
Biology, like scattered threads of clay
That breeds and seeks to win

Across the veils of ecstasy
Who is behind the sense, across immortality
The youth derived from evolution’s soul –
That fetches the wine from the beyond

Who is the pictured form,
The female that lures, the male that pushes on –
That tie the skin of opposites
With head and loin, heart and care
The songs of the organics, the original ancestors.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Summer-Love-404705610

Ode to Virgins

A girl to a man is an ascended tree
Who bears the most magnificent fruit
The tree has grow in my breast
Downward like arms of moss

Trees you are, nourished glee
Moss you are, ravished romance
A chill of violets in the wind
A girl to a man is the folly of the world

The gift, the goal, the great deception
A virginal biological imperative
Like heroin, a dopamine-testosterone high
For the spoils of estrogen and smiles

Slight her arms that stealthy subtle clearness
Her vague ethereal beauty, so remarkable
A girl to a man is the twin peaks of the world
The reminder of April’s shooting branches
The white bark of skin, the young lady’s hours.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Kika-403043718

In every flake that flies wide wandering skies

Leaves will rain the end of years
A pageant death-parting
O’ Autumn, it’s my soul

That gives you ear & listening
And hence who once was here
Cannot be forgotten yet –

My held breath in the day’s decline
Leaves will wash away what
Was once the blown night and day

Leaves and rain till the year’s flooding end
Your cheek against mine, the watery-way
With tears and of the blown night

The doom that waves her secret sign
Against my death, was my life in vain?
Adieu, waving last whispering of trees

Leaves will rain my last remaining years
With colors that will breeze to you?
Would ye ever wave an Adieu, for forgetfulness

Is coming so take flight all worries
What do you say to the breeze?
And what in that hush, say the breeze to you?

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Dance-Me-to-the-End-400908151

A Would-Be Love Sonnet

If I die before love, strike me
With the purity of footsteps of karma
That in the next life, my holy force
Will flash the incredible whispers
With poetry, and warm affection
Since, in Love I’ll die a second time
To myself, once so selfish and conceited
I will serve my kin, as is ancient custom
Wooed by joys so terrible, biological imperatives
And then I shall say, ‘Whoever loved like we did’
And I shall boast, with irrevocable delight
Those roses I shall burry in eternal months
And with the light that endures, with the love
That consumes all the fruit, new lives will be made
To love again, with burning hearts, subtle flower-kisses.

Lament of Individual Freedom

Love walked alone
With a companion of the Self
That wore a heart of pain
In a name, a vacant horizon

Without a descendant line
Love walked alone
Accosted by harsh individualism
Autonomy became an exaggeration

Of running strong without limitation
Love walked alone
With no common goods
Of things to trade from the heart

Life became an anonymous journey
With a lonely middle without reward.