Poem: Desert Dreams and the Mask( Dubai Dairies — 7)

Another trip to Dubai. Work beckons. My mood swings from low to high, as the flight sours above the Arabian Peninsula.

Poem: Desert Dreams

The mud is caked and brittle
and in a tight fist
crumbles into sand
Once -
plenty of water flowed
the soil played the mother

Today -
it is a barren land
the wrinkles of the past
the dry river looks like scars

But -
I see an imperfect
chocolate pudding
from high above
The odd cloud floating by
A vanilla topping, perhaps.

On my way to Dubai
the Marhaba city
I see my own dreams
Rising from the desert.

~Ashok Subramanian © 2024

Dubai: I wonder how people wear masks, smile, and walk through the day of daily chores. What about the emotions. I look at myself. I don’t emote anymore. I wear the mask. THE MASK.

Poem: THE MASK

Pic by Annette of Pixabay

A frail mask of daily chores
An artificial balm
Soft, cool, and deceptive
A smile on the face
Just to avoid the questions
About the –
The deep wound
That bleeds within
Melding with life
Drowned in silent tears
Silenced by heartbeats
Perhaps the sign that
Life goes on and forward
No scope for a pause
The wounds have to heal
Like the autumn churn –
I pause, sigh, and stare
And put on —
A smile on my face
Soft, cool, and deceptive
An artificial balm
A frail mask of deceptive chores.

~Ashok Subramanian © 2024

More to come, of course. Stay tuned.

~Ashok, Camp Dubai