‘THE DEATH’S COTYLEDON’ & ‘Through the coal beds’ by Jyoti Mugalikar

sc june 18


Towards the dried clots of evening’s old cataract
Skate the deserted church’s residual blunt air
Steadily creeping over the nostrils of dire slumber
Burying its sequel’s groans at pain’s square

The crotched pulse severs hymns
Born at every sickled iridescence
Squelching every sprouted breath of hope’s basin
Crippling yet another edge of heart’s crescence

The heaven’s pectoral soul crams
In its beheaded word’s tidal beats
Trembling in the pulpit’s dim shadow
Where the silence smitten dust screams

The gums of morning’s bangled mist
Addle the maimed bark of dawn
And the basked claws of numb clouds
Nurture the chronic glimpse of death’s cotyledon.

Through the coal beds

Mornings moistened at the well neck
Cramming at the baptised moon sockets
The debris of the shadow’s shavings
Bangled the mist on cloud’s bunkers.

The smell of burnt wet hopes
Blackened through the golden hair of the pines
The cufflinks of cracked sneers
Littered in the conical gaze

The colliery dug out an eclipse
And hung it on a Thursday collar
Hurdling over a flesh of pauses
Walking over the Sun’s honeymoon

The dust spilled over the crystal croutons
Dampened by the snake pits
Burrows of the exhumed cataracts
Etherised on the rain pleats

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