by Kislay Chuan
Strangers You and I
Two stood structures in sky
One is guide of another, strangers you and I
No longer the berries are blue, and this night
And the road is far, many streets to try
To teach two eyes, to ask more than a heart
To a day, to a night and to a fading art
Morn and eve pretend to change pictures of sky
One is guide of another, strangers you and I
Freedom, what, autumn leaves confined
I thought it beyond a sailing wind
The revolutions hidden in those mind
Where closed eyes and heart bind
A noise is the slave of quietness, peace
A truth collects all lies to wash them, cleans
Then assigns to trust, makes them shy
One is guide of another, strangers you and I
That all alone, in a quiet group of flowers
And color which helps them, empowers
No longer the gardens are empty, and colors
Tulips even have found their lovers
That autumn felicitates spring
And how the rain lulled that summer sting
Leading those clouds, and leading sky
One is guide of another, strangers you and I
Ocean depths, shook all the blurred pearls
And every ripple flows them to shores
Same thing to words, what our heart does
On its every strength, when a tear whorls
Overtaken, this time, all the memories
That past pain of life, and those worries
No voice, can be heard now in cry
One is guide of another, strangers you and I
Two Quiet Pictures
Two quiet pictures on the wall
Of life, age looks them strangely
One with curls up winding fall
Age called it past, a memory call
And down beside a dark, second
The watcher, finds it as a blank paper
Empty with shaded wishes, a future
To bid, to make both happy, a present
The bidders, a time, every second appears
And ages children with colors
All bring to life, sit there on knees, in tears
It was composed, with gathered roses
The future that was imposed by last white
Carried with blue sides, innocent snowflakes
That overtaken, a story foretold, day and night
Through over flooded desires of present
Steered, on the silky, silent village
with designed waysides by summer sunsets
But every morning still goes to see them
Those two quiet pictures on the wall
Less in both, but together, different in same
And imagine, too confusing, too crescent
Near that wall, holding up hands, it came
To burn both of them in fire, the present
A Painting
In front of candles, in darkness
Are you only a painted picture or a clone?
For which crowd traveled days or nights
But you look so far away, standing alone
Are you not real like crowd?
Real like world? Having golden lights
Of summer and silver blush of winter
You look still, you live where no one moves
Join the emotions, remain in yourself
But you are silent, You are so calm
Some days ago you were colors in my life
Hours I spent to sketch you, painted
But in midst all losing, your realness
Every moment changed with joy and sorrow
But you remained with me, silently
Either side of my way, of life
And the time went by
When lost my rhythm, one day
I lost the realness of you too, the colors
And you were put in a corner of room
Near the dusty place no one cared
A place where walls were grey, blurred
and you silently noticed my appearance
My hands got older, and my eyes downed
And the brush was dried, a torn canvas
with layers of the spider-webs
And I was unmoved, like you, lost realness
But my eyes were on you, thinking still—
Are you only a painted picture or a clone?
For which crowd traveled days or nights
But you look so far away, standing alone—-
