In hues of blue, gentle
As you and me swirl
We the remanent of a glorious star
That once lit all around it
And then as it passed its journey
Painted the surroundings in hues we are now
You and I
Forming worlds of our own
Each distant
Further as the galaxies speed away
We neither want to be away
Nor can we be creating worlds of ours
You have yours
I didn't create mine
I chose to be sprinkled
Scattered, remain as a sprinkle
In the darkness of space
Sometimes drawn
Sometimes let go
But always scattered
Always

The Garage, an affair, A love story

Late night in his garage,
Alex sat eating beans and pork,
This car is still not fixed
The roof doesn't open, said a voice
Alex turned around, let a spanner loose
In the dim lit garage, the spanner flew
Tumbling and spinning
Like a humming bird free and careless
Flying in circles
It landed on her left temple
Bounced
Hit the windshield and then dragged itself down
Over the hood, scraping it and itself mildly
Alex stood there in horror.
Now I have to buff the scratch on that wrench again
An angry anxious voice was heard
"Alex, you better not be tossing your wrenches around carelessly"
Alex rushed,
Pushed the car out of his garage, ignoring the body knocked unconscious
It rolled down the slope
He found his wrench,
Picking it up, he smiled.
It looked well, he heaved a sigh of relief
Alex loves his wrenches

The morning came after,
Down the slope
A policeman was pondering
At a car, crashed into a tree
Was this a murder, was it a robbery
Unclear, he walked uphill , to Alex's
"Hey Alex, you know anything about that dead body down the road?" he enquired.
Alex turned around, let a spanner loose
In the morning light, the spanner shone like silver
It flew tumbling and spinning
Like a innocent child, free and careless
Turning in circles
It landed on his right temple
Alex stood there in horror.
Did is scratch that wrench again? He wondered; walking hastily to its landing.
He pushed aside the now dead man,
Retrieved his wrench
The body rolled by , down the hill
Near the crashed car
An angry anxious voice was heard again
"Alex, you better not be tossing your wrenches around carelessly"

The noon arrived,
There were two town folk at the scene
They both looked at the car and the slain
Pondered what had happened.
They walked up the slope to Alex's  garage and called out
"Hey Alex, there are 2 dead people down the slope"
Alex turned around, let 2 spanners loose
In the noon sun, the spanner beamed , reflected the sun
It flew like galloping horses
In unison, a matched derby of sorts
Without a jockey
It landed on their temples
Alex stood there in horror.
Did I scratch those wrenches again? He wondered; walking hastily to their landing.
"Alex, you better not be tossing your wrenches around carelessly"
Said a body, stuck in an unkept car
Almost decomposing
Alex yelled back at her
"Shut up Joan, I love my wrenches, I take good care of them"

So be fine
For then winter sun rises late
bathes all of us in the warmest hues
It melts my soul
Makes me breathe
Realize I am alive again
Whilst I do ponder briefly on it
The nuances of its humility are evident
I have to swim along
The tides this universe has cast
The swell and the dip
Both seem to assimilate me
It is neither a shock or a lament
Of all if I am anything , it is in a trance
Intrepid and oblivious to the next
Like a smear of oil, scattering the colours
In a puddle of muddy water
Gently melt by the morning sun
In tiny rills,
I too traverse along the infinite vast
Into a direction best unknown to me and all
Stilled, devoid of feeling, a chance of skill
Not will
Unlike the puddle , that is gentle
Drift, adrift, gently amongst the torrid waves.

This is a mad December
The icy pins, on my bare face
As I roam, like a mad man
In my own trance
For you are not here to annoy
Not be daft and silly
It is only a few days
But it feels like a prison
Of freedom that seems irrelevant
For I roam free as you loom and lurk
Crib and throw a fit
Of wanting to be stuck to me
And I always ask .. like glued together?
Then again, my mind is
To yours.