somewhere

somewhere in the sands of time,
lie cakes of mud and pools of slime.
they lurk patiently.

somewhere in a great, dank mine,
a fallen clown tries his old mime.
he gazes at his reflection on the veins of coals.

somewhere in the binding vine,
lies a dream floating in brine.
in vain it tries to stay timeless.

hollow, with a chipped tooth,
a human waits patiently to enter a booth.
s/he stares at the curtain fluttering in the wind.

somewhere in the clutter of it all,
lies a fact blind to all.
straining to be heard.

somewhere in flaky the hills of lime,
phenomena so prescient, so sublime.
awaits flaking for a speck of light.

somewhere on the narrow, twisty road,
a driver goads luck.
what road?

the stones on the ground,
tremble as rocks crash all around.
what choice so they exercise?

the tree on the hill,
falls rey to the ‘dozer hacking it’s fill.
who’s to say how it feels?

the person who hath not spoken,
speaks but her/his voice sounds broken.
speak for all or stay shut.

somewhere in the mountains grey,
a lonely bird surveys its ragged fief.
it swoops down and plucks a flaunting flower.

somewhere in the crackling pyre,
a log stares wistful at the prancing fire.
so near, yet so beautiful.

somewhere in the elephant grass,
a hippo debates in the morass.
life so blissful, yet fear abounds.

somewhere in the swirling sands of time,
lie hopeful cakes of mud and brooding pools of slime.
they await their meeting with the traveller.

the red mist f a d e s a w a y . . .

as the dying flames lick the air
as the forlorn embers glow faint
as the breeze toys with the ash
as the carefree wind caresses the unassuming earth
as the ash sprinkles on the charred earth
as the earth rues the end of its redness
as the end of another cycle approaches
as the smoke gets enmeshed in the mist
as the cold mist spreads envelopes all
the red mist fades away
into the red earth
the transfer of energies
from element to element
a minute tornado rages from one to another
involuntary spasms
quivering eyelids
smoke filled eyes
burning eyes
twitchy lips
lizardy tongue
tingling ears
hair alive
scalp receptive
skin attentive
senses as one
knowledge streaming
mind bending
thoughts shifting
eyes still burning
nose freezing
palms under mud
feet ensconced in boots
toes and fingers one step away from frenzy
nails nonexistent
teeth grinding and chattering alternatively
the red mist
the blue mist
the black mist
the cold mist
all taunting
taking turns
eyes following all
brain ruling all
heart following all
like a slave
the emotions of being
the feelings of confusion
torment
peril
doom
synchrony
magik
monsters
implosions
waiting
the dying flames lick the air
the embers of hope glow faint
the mind toys with the self
the heart caresses the self
balls of fire bounce in frolic
a light of dancing light
stretches the boundaries
of the narrowing mind
the harrowing mind
the drums beat harder
more impatiently
the mists go into a frenzy
bom bom bom bom bom bom bom bom
bombombombombombombombom
bmbmbmbmbmbmbmbmbmbmbm
frenzyrollingmistswrilingspinningspinningspinningspinning

the dying flames lick the air
the forlorn embers glow faint
the breeze toys with the ash
the carefree wind caresses the unassuming earth
the ash sprinkles on the charred earth
the earth rues the end of its redness
the end of another cycle approaches
the smoke gets enmeshed in the mist
the cold mist spreads envelopes all
and the red mist fades away
. . .

pathetic

why is the world so teleologically oriented?
just imagine a life without it

i can!

really?
maybe

i so wish for one like that
study —> pass —> job —> money
its so unfulfilling

sleepy happening but cannot sleep.
am in the twilight zone.
my life is nothing but an empty void.

beauty
it’s such an elusive thing

so elusive

it’s difficult to find beautiful people in this world

they languidly glide in, they saunter away.
beauty is much more than physical,
it’s so uncommon.

especially when people swing between beauty and un-beauty.
and what is beauty but the subjective accumulation of biases, prejudices, preferences and notions?

it’s esoteric,
based in emotion,
devoid of the clutches of rationale

those who demand it are subject to its whims and the whims of its bearer,
or wearer,
or holder.
tranquility is temporal in such a moment;
a collection of moments cobbled together,
hurriedly

writing,
at the lowest depth
it flows;
like tears.
it’s catharsis,
for pent up emotion,
for losing causes,
for dreams floating away

those who search and seek seldom find,
yet, all i can do is give in to the basest of emotions.
keep hunting
while it keeps mocking me and floating away
the more i rage
the fuller is its deep, earthy, throaty laughter

mocking

taunting

silently

yet the sounds resonate in my head
threaten to swamp my heart
and drown out everything i perceive i believe in.
this is me in the twilight zone
neither here, nor anywhere

sigh

love is never too far away from the core
the seams may disintegrate but the core remains even when severed

being in a stupor.
brain seemingly dead.
emotions feeling drained.
yet able to produce such stuff
in this twilight of nothingness

when everything seems lost and escape in hope, futile
teleology is so pointless.
yet what we hate about the system of life
we try it in other spheres
like me
what will it take to love me
ugh!
the futility of it all

it comes
it goes

a solitary cry rents the air
the haunting sound is a plea
to the larger universe
let me be free

but metaphysical phenomena
are of no value in this world
without material, one is nothing – frequently if not always

what the heart is to reason
the brain is to emotion

fleeting

glancing

brushing here

whispering there

head spinning

head pounding

heart spinning

at the end of the dream
there is only dust to show that you have travelled
while you were still – physically
the dust traversed the distance and landed on you
while your mind whirred, the dust tornado enveloped you

i was blind to its approach,
impervious to its clutches.
now i lie in it,
in it’s powdery embrace,
granules all over,
realising,
just as one wakes up and moves,
all that is attached falls off
flows away

previously stunted evolution heaves a sigh of relief
only if one can move
and wriggle out of the stupor

conversational poetry

why is the world so teleologically oriented?

i dunno
we are so dependent on it now
just imagine a life without it

i can

really?
maybe

i so wish for one like that
study —> pass —> job —> money
its so unfulfilling

i knw i knw

am ranting myself
just so lead-like dead in the head

it’s okey
rant away

sleepy happening but cannot sleep
am in the twilight zone
my life is nothing but an empty nothing

dats a beautiful zone

yeah

yessss

beauty
it’s such an elusive thing

so elusive

hmm…
it’s difficult to find beautiful people in this world

really??
i think beauty is more common these days

they languidly glide in, they saunter away
beauty is much more than physical
it’s so uncommon

yaa dat is uncommon

especially when people swing between beauty and un-beauty
and what is beauty but the subjective accumulation of biases, prejudices, preferences and notions?

yes it is

it’s esoteric, based in emotion, devoid of the clutches of rationale
those who demand it are subject to its whims and the whims of its bearer
or wearer
or holder
tranquility is temporal in such a moment
a collection of moments cobbled together
hurriedly

at the lowest depth
it flows
like tears
it’s catharsis
for pent up emotion
for losing causes
for dreams floating away

those who search and seek seldom find
yet, all i can do is give in to the basest of emotions
keep hunting
while it keeps mocking me and floating away
the more i rage
the fuller is its deep earthy throaty laughter
mocking
taunting
silently
yet the sounds resonate in my head
threaten to swamp my heart
and drown out everything i perceive i believe in
this is me in the twilight zone
neither here, nor anywhere

beautiful
it sounds very transcendent
nice

sigh
love is never too far away from the core
the seams may disintegrate but the core remains even when severed

aaahhhh
true

being in a stupor
brain seemingly dead
emotions feeling drained
yet able to produce such stuff
in this twilight of nothingness

its not nothing
those beautiful words

when everything seems lost and escape in hope futile
teleology is so pointless
yet what we hate about the system of life
we try it in other spheres
like me
what will it take to love me
ugh!
the futility of it all

write more write more

dunno
it comes
it goes

a solitary cry rents the air
the haunting sound is a plea
to the larger universe
let me be free
but metaphysical phenomena
are of no value in this world
without material, one is nothing – frequently if not always
what the heart is to reason

yes without material it is nthng

the brain is to emotion
fleeting
glancing
brushing here
whispering there
head spinning
head pounding
heart spinning
at the end of the dream
there is only dust to show that you have travelled
while you were still – physically
the dust traversed the distance and landed on you
while your mind whirred, the dust tornado enveloped you
i was blind to its approach
impervious to its clutches
now i lie in it
in it’s powdery embrace
granules all over
realising
just as one wakes up and moves
all that is attached falls off
flows away
previously stunted evolution heaves a sigh of relief
only if one can move
and wriggle out of the stupor

crazy

love is a crazy emotion

it defies every known paradigm

it may set us free

or it may shackle

it leads us to the end of our resources

and then it unearths more

it redefines boundaries
redraws rules
changes perspectives
tweaks thoughts
changes planes
wild goosechases
and makes everything worth it

it also sobers

savour the details

experience the richness

live for the moment

prioritise the other

live for them

peruse the text

sift through oneself

hold the soft pace

hurry, at bay

responsibilities slipping by

structures melting away

enveloping fluidity

swaying to the unheard

beating to the perceived

exhaustion flying away

energy exploding

bliss imploding

life catches up

what happened?
how?
why?
where?
knowledge?
information?

blankness...

peril

confusion

craze

love... ah love

selfish temptations

inexplicable impulses

random musings

out of place palpitations

psycho

oh foolish psycho

psyched

frazzled

berate self

berate self again

dejection

bereft

devastation

despondence

	s3 o9 l5 e2 i8 d1 o4 t7 n10 a6

memories

all that's left are memories

memories of happiness

self-destruction

wrongs perpetrated by the self

perceived slights

misunderstandings

and through it all

love watches

crawling

        tottering

                 dragging

                         tip-toeing

                                   skulking

                                           running

                                                  flying

                                                        fleeing

	alienation		complete

of an idea

an ideal

two persons

who had been one

now two again

who lost their individualities

one hated it

the other only acted different

both hated it

clones
unions
purity
bliss

ruined

blasted

bombed

subliminally

subterfuge

all while not wanting to hurt the precious other

trying to protect the self

wandering through the wasteland of their emotions

of themselves / of the other

by themselves / by the other

for themselves / for the other

a wasteland so alien

so barren

they lost themselves

and another

a place so foreign

they could not find themselves nor the other

so true to the ruins of their creation

their creation

individual and joint

yet love flows through its chasms

through the ravines

through the places they have forgotten to look

until they find themselves

they will not find these

until they sort out their own muck

they will not recognise what they are sorting

hopefully, they will recognise what they are sorting

themselves

rejuvenating themselves

for themselves

the other should not matter

only they

the other is but a creation of the self

they only matter who need to

suddenly
like a burst of energy
so pure
yet so ravenous
so powerful
it engulfs
so joint
yet so individual
individual
the self

the search for the self

the quest for selfhood

selfhood not selfish

self that gives

does not expect

offers

not demands

melts

hardens

sublimes

transient

permanent

temperance

variance

bewildering

confusing

befuddling

amazing

awesome

brilliance

superlatives

love

love

love

The Dream

The dark grey clouds,
Cover the bright blue sky;
I look up to the heavens,
And wonder “Who am I?”

They kiss the hills,
And envelope the mountains;
How beautiful they look,
The tall green fountains.

Far far away in a foreign land,
I dream of what was then:
How I wish I were there,
Basking in all of nature’s glory;
But that I leave untold,
Untold: to be told in another story;.
But then my dream is shattered,
Someone shouts out, “Lazy man, get those eggs laid by the hen”.

Then I reflect on my sham of a life,
Is this a life at all;
If I take one more step,
The ground beneath me may crumble and fall.

I look to the heavens above,
I ask the question, “Why?”
And then I see him smiling down,
Tears rain out of my eye.

Illusion shattered, eyesight reborn,
I look around in remorse and scorn;
What happened to me doesn’t happen to you I hope,
A beautiful dream shattered, in front of me nothing;
Nothing, but a cloud of smoke.

What is Love?

What is the meaning of Love?
Is it two people who trust in each other, just like doves;
Is it something more than that?
Or do you just refuse to see it; be as blind as a bat?

Is Love a thing,
As vast as the sea?
Or is it nothing,
We make it out to be?

Is it in the air?
Is it in the trees?
Will it ever waft to you?
Will your heart, it ever seize?

Do you know when it will be your time?
When your heart will swell and the bells will chime;
Or do you leave this to your fate?
Hoping; Hoping that you will keep your date.

It it true what they say?
Everything is fair in Love and war?
Do want to stay within the confines of this knowledge?
Or do you want to break free, do you want to know more?

Do you often scan the horizon?
Do you get lost in the endless beauty of the sea?
When standing on top of a mountain, do you get a thrill?
Or is it that you feel that the world is white and still?

I want to know this everlasting truth,
I want to know it now;
Oh! This Love tortures me,
Oh! I wish someone knew how….

The Memory Remains

The bells toll,
The heads roll;
The birds sing,
They murder the king.

Quickly they start,
To Look for the queen;
Without her, Royalty
Loses its sheen.

They know not what they do,
They act like they are dumb;
Why should they care?
Their senses are numb.

Over the hill and over the plain,
They search for the Beauty, tis all in vain;
For knowing that her lord was slain,
She hath fled in the cover, of the night and the rain.

Little do they realise,
Their downfall she plots;
They underestimate her resilience,
A commodity which she has lots.

In flames go up the villages,
When they hear of the king;
Out come the knives out come the swords,
Loud and shrill the battle cry rings.

The cowards with fear too deep in their soul,
Do not realise the primitive army is on a roll;
The King’s army holds out, till they see the queen,
They stop fighting, the murderers go green.

The fools try to flee,
But are stopped mid-flight;
Oh how they try to escape,
The public laugh at their plight.

Anger overcomes laughter,
And anxiety, pain;
Too late do they realise,
A great man’s loss is nobody’s gain!

The King gone,
His kingdom looks forlorn;
But even though he left a hole,
He remains in Spirit and Soul!

(The inspiration for this comes from the namesake song. Duh!)

The Blind

Have you felt the pangs of hunger?
Have you felt the taunts of thirst?
Are you quite sure you are safe?
Or is your bubble about to burst?

Can you see poverty all about you?
Can you see the population burgeoning?
Can you see the millions dying?
Due to the pestilence raging.

Can you see me as I see you?
Can you look out of you Ivory Tower?
Can you for once, live with the commons?
Despite the hardships, can you feel their power?

Or do you look down and scorn at them?
See a small child wiping his tears on his mother’s dress’ hem?
Just what do you think is your role?
Do you think, you belong to the fold?

Does seeing them trouble you?
Begging for a penny or shining a shoe?
What is it that you can do then to really help?
Or is it your duty to just hand them a penny or two?

Now if you have any answers,
Just send them over to me;
I bet you will notice the difference,
Even You; You, who refuse to see!

Life

What is life?
Can it ever be captured?
Be it a film, story or poem,
Can you ever decipher it’s meaning?

Can you see where it is leading?
Do you know where it is heading?
Is the keel of your ship shaking violently or steady?;
Can you feel yourself blissfully flying?
Or is your soul, your spirit grovelling in the dirt and dying?

Is your path clearly charted out?
What shows your face, a smile or a pout?
Are your eyes a fiery red?
Is there angst in your head?
Or is it that all your feelings for that special someone are dead?

I tell you this, this is life,
It is all a game;
If you dont risk an adventure,
No one will ever know your name.

Think of life as something good,
Think of it as the food;
The food, that nourishes your soul,
Drives you on and plugs every hole.