Wednesday, December 31, 2008


If heaven won’t speak with me
About my salvation and blessings,
And if you’ll speak without me
About what might happen to me,
I can’t go and miss the tour,
I can’t go and miss you.
You’re my destiny,
Believe in me
You’re what I have to do.
Believe in me
You’re what I was born for.
Believe in me, I must be this way…
The cascade, slippery way…
The centre of the earth calls me.

If a gypsy had told you one day
About the misgivings of my tasks,
And if you took it to your fate
To follow me to save me from myself.
I can’t stay and miss the trail,
I can’t stay and kiss my fail.
You’re my destiny.
Believe in me
You’re what I have to do.
Believe in me
You’re what I was born for.
Believe in me, I have to be this way
The cascade slippery way…
The centre of the earth is my home…
It calls me.

I knew you would resist,
At the shimmering mouth,
Our tryst had to be,
One with the sound,
A sound once-heard,
A sound then-transferred,
A sound that will travel
To the centre of the earth…

Do you believe…?
Do you believe in me?

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Scarlet Lies

It’s a mystery why you still never hear me when I lie,
Or catch me when I steal words from your life,
It’s an agony that you never hear me crawl
Sideways in bed and flee across the hall…

You never know when I hear, you sing the rhyme
From behind you and tiptoe out of the room.
You never hear when I can hear you kissing the air
For their being around me and around you too.

You never see when I see you out of the corner,
Clumsily tripping over, calling my name.
You never see when I reach out to nothingness,
And still catch hold of something just the same.

You never hear me hear you say the things
You say and think you’ll never say in this life…
You never see me smile and hear me incline
My head in a nod and wait for you to smile…

It’s a mystery why you still never hear me when I lie,
Or catch me when I steal words from your life.

It’s a lie to say I wish that you could hear me lie.
It’s a lie to say I won’t steal again from your smile…
I would be so lying if I said you didn’t know me a bit…
Not even close, I couldn’t lie to you, yet I must, you see?
‘Cause I’d be lying if I said, I can live without you.
Not even close, nothing near the beautiful truth…
That I hear everyday what you never say…my love…

And she loves you too.

Lost Savior

The lost spring of last year
Never soaked in merriment so clear,
It reeks of sediment of fallen warriors
Of days of succumbing saviors.
Never hope to lose, or lose hope.
It’s a reminiscent day of the oak
White will the willow remain in dust
Of gravels at feet of a shattered crust
And mid-day suns, satin sky in burst,
Salvage and carnage in dance glorious.
Never hope to lose, or lose hope…
Estranged your might remain cloaked.

Will someone come close enough to kill
The one you were destined to shield?
Or is there someone to save her before
You come closer to her threshold?
Bear your name on your iron sword
Never forget or forgive what is sold,
Your soul is hers, and she yours
To protect and to heal against all odds.
Never hope to lose, or lose hope…
When end descends on your boat,
Let it take you to the unknown deeps
Where she shall be sleeping safe in peace,
And you can still guard her soul,
Till spring returns and sea-breeze blows…

Friday, December 26, 2008


I am brazen; I am brazen, despite your alchemy
I have no name; I have no name, after the mutiny.

God save all your cursed souls
Resplendent in the conscious terror
You shall live and I shall die
And I will have an end to my errors.

Futile is your deception blazed
By your beauty and treason.
Never mind what has passed,
The padre will find a reason…
At last you shall be with your lass
And I won’t watch you hovel on
With her, while loving me
Killing yourself slowly…

It’s a simple loophole, you overlooked?
It’s a shame, because I still love you…
Oh no, now I have to live!
I have to struggle to exist.

Stop calling my name, stop calling my name, to the winter,
I’m running, I’m running, just stop torturing the air.

They don’t know me,
I don’t breathe in them…
They won’t ever reach me,
I’m two steps ahead.
In the spotless dilemma of saving desires,
I am the nameless, estranged, standing heir.
I am the reason you all are here.
Aroused by the scent of today’s flowers...

I have betrayed your last claim on salvation
I will take away your blessings in carnation.
I am sorry to remember our magical bond,
To not be able to leave you alone…

Then the skies will brighten in the lights,
You and I shall stand distanced by heights,
Each in our peace humming the word
Lost shall be the mystique in the sword…
Lost shall be the enchanted palace,
Ours shall be a new year embraced.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008


When the sun suddenly decides,
It aint gonna shine today
You’re the candle that
Made me wanna pray…for me!
You’re the high of streaking in rain
Along the shoreline
When I’m thinking I’m leaving
Everything behind…of me!
You’re the sense of touch that freezes
Against the glistening snow
And the frostbite that comes…on tow…
In August you’re the calm breeze
Unwavering in your graze
Silently stroll into my
Deepest, darkest maze…with me!
You’re the treading cold grass
On a highway nude-feet
When I know someone will
Stop and give a lift…to me!
But you’re the sense of touch that freezes
Against the glistening snow,
And the frostbite that comes...on tow.

You’re the immortal quotes of moments we’ve spent,
My one-time motion to what I’ve openly dreamt,
A kiss on a local bloom-swathed ordinary lane.
You’re the nausea of restless, aimless epochs,
The fits of rage and the laughing-it-offs,

The escapist’s journal on a night, storm-blown

You’re my everafter
My pain and my laughter;
You’re my scarlet fever,
Reason why I am now so weak…
You’re the lyrics of this song,
Written by a lost-child found,
Riding a tinkering merry-go-round…

You’re the sense of touch that freezes
Against the glistening snow,
And the frostbite that comes...on tow

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Leprechaun Tempest

There’s the snaky breathe of a midnight candle
Burnt out by a thrust on the door,
Removed from the trees, and their snore;
Someone’s there, watching us still
Living for us out there when we swindle
The night and leave it to battle
The tempest through the leaves on its own.

The wire has severed.
The birds that used to sit there
Will be gone…
All in one.

Even when heroes would travel to the daybreak
And wise men would have bored
Their philosophies with death’s detours,
A woman, in rags would be still
Living on the streets, nude, and dwindle
To an insane because that is what
An insane woman is fabled to be doing.

A mesh of bamboos stands high by rubble
Of a construction site now tore
Down by the tempest to nothing more;
Trees uprooted, leaving to swill
The spilling of more things to build,
There was next night new a sentinel
To watch over the fearful all night through.

But the wire has severed.
And the birds that used to sit there
Will they be really gone?
All in one?

If we were outside,
Would we really have died?

Thursday, December 4, 2008


Here's a bloody dilemma to deal with.
Leaves me with nothing but a fucking carnal hunger and bloody wet dreams.Clear off! is what I pine to everything.All of this. All of you.You who love and live for this System.
Maybe I'll just go to bed.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Greying matters

Did you know your shadow was winged?
When you frisk by, I can hear conspiring,
You feel cold, when they don’t want to be seen,
They wait till you drain, and part into dreams.

When you walked on stilts, I stalked you barefoot
When you dug up graves, I made them your home.
When you left your children I took care of them,
And now…I bow…just let me go…

I have struggled and rebelled to leave ground,
But the light finds a way to curve around.
I wish I’d no more be the simple outcome,
But pronounce my space with a sound.

Shadows…you cannot quite drown them…
I tried, they turned into my reflection…
Shadows…you can only let them hide…
Before you go, turn off the lights.
All in the realm of head shaving clichés,
It had risked your demure in this land,
It has gone to places with you alongside,
Now…it prays…let go of its hand.

Did you know your shadow was winged?
When you frisk by, I can hear conspiring,
You feel cold, when they don’t want to be seen,
They wait till you drain, and part into dreams.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Mumbai---Not a poem

My brother was on that step, tying his shoe-laces,
My sister was in that kitchen washing the dishes,
My father was reading the papers in that maple chair,
My mother was cradling the baby in her hotel bed,
My soul-mate was playing a guitar on that stage,
I was home staring at the TV, watching them, all of them.
The unidentified corpses…and the identified…
All blasphemic, anonymous losses.
Anonymous paradox, anonymous stings.
The fire is gone, but they are yet burning…
And the rage, and the hatred,
And the love and the faith.
And it all comes back to the top of the tree
When a branch burns, it inflames other trees.
The trunk remains to remind all of us this---
There’s nothing more to let down,
There are only those to be down with.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Raincoat- The Song

Just when it seems like the rain’s been on my shed all day,
It strikes the roof at once and trickles slowly down the walls…
And awakens the mud-buried secrets of the talkative earth
As it breathes a misty sound on my window, I hear it all…

And I can’t wait…..
For it to join the hustle,
And I can’t wait…
For it to hit a puddle,
To knock on its door and jump back like it’s afraid,
But slowly after many a while, dissolve…
In this raincoat of the world.

Your lips have been so dry; it tries to divide your mind,
Your thoughts swim clearly under the frozen lake….
Hollow creek and Eden seems fairly much closer
Than the horizon I chase all day, for just your sakes…

So I can’t take….
What you have for me, my heart---
So I can’t take….
It belongs to nobody, my pulse---
What is your life but a piece of the plan that life must be.
But slowly after many a while, it makes sense…
We’re the raincoat of a big mess.

But look here I am standing, letting this rain shape on me.
Now when I reach out, you will see the horizon lean on me
Along with the blur of blurred paint
In the many raincoats of rain….

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Dancing, till she Entranced...

In a flash, the grubby water,
As the cough of an old man,
Spilled out of the gutter,
And began its tragic dance…
Dancing, till it entranced
All humid, stymied passer-bys,
Bidding a slow-motion goodbye,
As it faded, in some heroic stance,
Dancing, till it entranced…
I’ve walked lonely paths of bloom,
But never have I ever so chanced
Upon waters so alive, so at home,
So inanely oblivious, and human,
Dancing, till it entranced…
Dancing till it entranced…
At the mouth of the frail gutter,
It gurgled raspy, with the angst,
Of a soul, marooned in some desert,
Like his last swig from the drained flask.
Collapsing into a flaccid rant…
Dancing till it entranced…
Weight of the world,its not me,
Blame the legions of impurity
And this flaimg blaming game.
I'll be dancing all the same.
I feel water, under my breathe,
Faceless; exposed my flawed soul.
I see water, when thus leak my eyes,
The hunger stay on untold.
I hear water, in ared-hot hiss,
It lingers quite white,volatile.
I am water, dirtiest of the drain,
I grime, I dry, but I never quite die.


the alarm ting tings away all by itself…selfless…
The nudging and jostling gets harder…
As I am suddenly vivid in the sequences of incidents
In my sordid, ordinary life,
As far as I see myself in that sequence…
I am locked.
There is no way out…
The threads of forbearing snap right into my eyes…
Puncturing it…
So I bleed…
My vision bleeds…

The call of the crow perturbed the otherwise solemn,
Otherwise calm lake-side, where a crowd has gathered…
At the barbwire fence, watching a claustrophobic, wailing insane…

The sarcasm of it all suddenly takes shape so clearly,
It’s better if you shut up by this time around…
The motion of my humility towards your satisfaction
Is in face with the red-lights of my glowing wound…
Now that you finally see it for what it is…
I hope you feel blessed, under the maple sky…
In my sordid, ordinary life,
As far as I see myself in that sequence…
I am long locked.
There is no way out…
The threads of forbearing snap right into my eyes…
Puncturing it…
So I bleed…
My vision bleeds…

The call of the crow perturbed the otherwise solemn,
Otherwise calm lake-side, where a crowd has gathered…
At the barbwire fence, watching a bereaved, wailing insane…

Unnoticed, except by a solitary pair of eyes.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Gangreen Grapes

When it becomes that absurdly obvious,
You laugh at your own lack of resource,
Then you growl a little to let yourself know
How you are so formidably low!

In this ploy of changing places,
My love is lost in the grapevine.
Taste my luck; it’s been to places,
Soon we can feed on sour red wine.

Standing, touching the wood of your fence,
I am done defending my existence.
Remember those words your mentor said,
The one retired,with Alzheimer’s in bed?

I know that you have been raped
By the subtle seeds of glory, soured
By the fleshy seeds of your grapes.
But now I’m losing you forever!

I will shed the watch, shred the clothes,
Fall to my chest, surrender to the floor,
Won’t rise until the grapes are gone,
And I’m with you all alone….
Because, I know, my wait won’t be long.

Friday, October 24, 2008

Fourth Element -Alignment

In a flash, the grubby water,
As the cough of an old man,
Spilled out of the gutter,
And began its tragic dance…
Dancing, till it entranced
All humid, stymied passer-bys,
Bidding a slow-motion goodbye,
As it faded, in some heroic stance,
Dancing, till it entranced…
I’ve walked lonely paths of bloom,
But never have I ever so chanced
Upon waters so alive, as it croons,
So inanely oblivious, and human,
Dancing, till it entranced…
Dancing till it entranced…
At the mouth of the weak gutter,
It gurgled raspy, with the angst,
Of a soul, marooned in some desert,
Like his last swig from the drained flask.
Collapsing into a flaccid rant…
Dancing till it entranced…

The faces that exist alone to veil souls,
To carry on, behind, the daily dirty work,
The water witness, everyday, every second,
Like the hush of a human sculpture.
The water in different drains, slither
This way and that, before and after,
It emerged through that gutter…
Perking its head, as if to say,
I have been in your eyes,
Just as you made me cry…
I’m the water you grimed,
The rain you try to entice,
And the reason you survived.

But did you ever think about that watery mirage
Faraway, upon that runaway highway?
Did you ever wonder why you always craved
To touch that watery speck of sunny pave?

Because, today water too has a face,
The face that is somberly veiled.
No drop of water is pure anymore...
Aligned with earth's leaking bore.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Mortal Things

Upon one pristine unholy night
A blood-sucking,pallid girl had cried
To slit the veins of her betrothal
Unto the glacial, carnal salivation.
To denounce her freedom in the frame
Of time, to put a reign on eternity,
To stop knowing that for years to come
She may live and age into nothingness.
To stop the growing of nothingness,
She wanted to know she will die one day.

Will someone come and untie us all,
Here in the middle of our crucified fall,
To pray with us that may she not
Come for us tonight as we’re weak?
I’ve heard a creak, don’t want to wait
Longer now that we can escape,
Her clutches, for all the while we’ll stay,
Farther we get from living for immortality.
Live I will for the blood-sucking, or godless
Reality--maybe--but I live, till one fateful day.

Look, straight into the eyes of death,
It awaits you on its hunches.
But it waits…for you to appease
All of life’s fateful wishes
For you. Death waits…
For you, where eternity...only devours.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

SelFish- The Myth

Farce is my sobered mumbling
Punctuating the crack of dawn,
Darkness hangs like a rubber tire
Strung by ropes from opaque boughs;
Blacksmith’s self-indulgence clings
Like a fractured alcoholic bliss
And it led me into the clearing
In the woods, too cold even for trees.

Can’t go there again
Don’t ask me to…
I’m sorry you’re so jaded,
But I can’t lead you.

I’m not what you think I am…
Didn’t let me be what you think I am…

Far from the anemic taped lips,
Far from the blue finger-tips,
The Thorazine pacified no tears
When the nimbus overhead conceived.
The black hemorrhage of stars
That won’t hush into reticent scars,
That won’t bow down to a day in sky,
Bids bondage unto my old farce.

Looking straight into your eyes,
Open wide, cajoling mine,
Your heart beating in mid-air,
Clutching the hand we both shared…
Symphony of pretensions---
They are at an end…
I can’t hold on to this,
I’m letting go of your hand.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Circle of Mess

There was a stapled fuming rosette,
Across the pinned close-up snatches,
And an eroded silhouetting doorway
Of the brimless, riotous closet
Where you stood to receive my fall!
I am nowhere close to finding it yet…
Yet…I’m the centre of the circle.
A brisk wind has aroused the trees,
Gardening was never quite my thing,
I’m entrusting you with the orgasmic
Evaporation of water from the leaves
To usher in the austere, vivid fall!
I am nowhere close to finding it yet…
Yet…I’m the centre of the circle.
I swore I won’t scribble in my palm,
The letters always dissolve in my sweat,
It’s easier to forgive myself when I wrong,
To grab the other hand and just wait
For the conclusion of my poetry’s fall!
I am nowhere close to finding it yet…
Yet…I’ve walked the full circle.

Inside, inside,
Your flaws I can rue.
Inside, deep inside
The chaos is truth.

I’m messed in my head…
I don’t blame you…

Encircled by the mess of mistakes
I’m detached from you.
Inside,deep inside
The chaos is truth.

Sunday, October 12, 2008


Across the grid-like mesh of rain on vinyl glass,
Like a phoenix, a scarlet-indigo streak passed…
And left me to insinuate a roadside vacant bench
For missing whatever that passed night-sent…
And distracting me with the humble murmur—
Who goes there?
On my path, soon after lightning pierced the night,
Dimming the sight of the rods in my mindless eyes…
I saw a girl up ahead, bungee-jumping oblivious
To faltering rays of distant stars unable to reach her.
Enveloping her, asked the radiance of the closest star---
Who stands there?
On those pages, I recorded the rages of my failures,
That I still remember, without the dated pages anyways.
Upon this bed, caught in the grid-like mesh of universes
Overlapping, here right now, sits with me, identical ‘us’,
Thinking, loving, remembering something I let pass,
Fondling, smelling the skin off the other side of the grass…
You were there all the while,
And unnoticed you passed me by.
And the days whisk by, upon my vinyl glass…
Today I look around, seeking her address…
In the faces I relented and let simply pass.
So humbled at long last, I ask Anonymous
Who goes there?

Friday, October 10, 2008

Will o'the Wisps...

I have to cease frequenting the highway,
With its fluorescent flaming road intercepts.
Accidents have happened, along those arcs
Skidding off the highway, skidding off the way…
And then the headlights shatter into shards,
Light stands politely beside a wraithlike marsh…
But all of that, the myth--- it glows defiant in the past,
Like the light in your eyes, through the vodka mist.
I have stopped frequenting these road intercepts
That hungrily feed the withering divide in my head,
The storm of hypocrisy, then the tears of contempt,
I bargained myself for myself, and my succint race
Have already met with the stymied green blaze
Of the self I'm not when I stare into the quicksilver surface
Of the Lake, with the self I am through the vodka mist.

But quicksilver is fatal, or so I have heard…
Highways kill without the flaming intercepts…
Yet I crave to touch that inverted image of mine…
To stagger in arcs on spotless, asphalt highways.
I am not afraid, its still something like me.
I am not afraid to pursue the green beam...
I am aroused without coffee today…
I am liked by people I have failed…
I have moulded something perfect…
I am nobody when I am divided…
I have long left the quicksilver highway…
I am on the jagged, edge of incomplete highway...

Saturday, September 27, 2008


I thought... I've had this sight for quite a while,
Perhaps its time for me to go blind,
To dissolve in the other world---
Not dark, but of the other kind.
Maybe it is time I didn’t confine
Myself to seeing everything with sight.

And out the window my eyes transcends me
Into that of a room next door and I see
A black and white floor and I can only
Scream ‘What’s happening to me!’
I was ready to go blind...but I was still screaming---
What’s happening to me….because…
I am humming off-tune, speaking in stutters
Fearing roads and reproaching myself later.
Walking where I used to run,
Running where I used to stand,
Stopping at whatever might reflect my face
Too afraid to touch a plane mirroring surface…
Now I’m unsure if this is me…
Thinking all these words, writing all of this.
The world didn't feel as different as I'd hoped,
I felt like a stranger to myself alone.
And…frayed laces tied around old gifts,
Or letters with my names in that metal box,
All seem to stalk me somehow,they all seem to haunt.
Am I the character in a story I read, or are they?
I am crying underwater, I have stopped screaming
Can’t even open my mouth, and let go of life…
Sight, blue light…help me stay…
'Cause this time,I cannot see...finally.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Five Years

You drove me across
Five thousand memories,
To leave me in a patch of
Your morning glories.
I rummaged among
The savaged crowd
Of the other tiny lives in
This one big world…
And I still chose this life,
I still chose this life…
For me...
For you.
Oh…discontinuous scenes
They touch you like the wind.
Oh…disappear they will
Remember or not, like a dream.
But they will find a way to meet
Your end at the Confluence.
But may they find me sooner…
I wish to go before your end.

Five years past from now,
You may or not be here,
But let me tell you now,
I really cannot care.
Can't even wonder
Why it couldn't be
Some two other
Human beings.
'Cause its more than wishes in grant.
Too perfect the way that it is.
This you...
This me.


He was a man
Who waylaid
The weathered steps
Of the staircase
Winding down to hell.
He was a man
So very shriveled,
He looked long judged
And proven chaste.
He was a man of Age.
He hummed a little,
Before crying again
He lay splayed
With his vessel
That jarred to jingle
With rusted coins
And finally disappeared
One day soon.
But cling he did
To his place there
Through the dawn
And night after.
Nobody knew when
Last he breathed.
He was a man
But a man long dead.

An obituary rested
On that weathered step,
As a non-existent,
Reverent absence.
And the concave silence
Of the voices that claim
Their blessings that he
May rest in peace.
But who needed them
His life would say…
The life that never
Asked for much.
He had been tested
And proven chaste,
So god bestowed
Him with the taste
Of the hell in life
As a life in hell…
So he may never lose
His way after death…

In the sad way angels
End up in hell.
In the unknown way
They deprive men
Of a taste of heaven.
And in the same game
Angels recruit men for hell.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Lucky Decision

Went down that weed-flanked watery path again
Six years ago was the first;
The congealed bags of cement are still there
With footsteps scooped out forever to last.
They break the clear water’s flow,
They curl, wrinkled and shallow,
Then they move on, forever in thirst
For the rims of clothes of walkers to soak.

Perhaps I would have thrown
A coin into that thread of a brook,
Was I not, myself, today
So completely broke.
If I was myself, today…
Completely alone.

There’s a fluorescent hint in that gong of a bell
It defies the all-consuming night,
Yet when light is seeping in through the cracks
Under windows, the night must have complied.
It darts, cornered, from corner to corner
Alleging, struggling for its right to linger,
Before it yields to the all-seeing Light,
Trusting in hope of being remembered.

Maybe I would’ve inhaled deep
The first kiss of dew-diluted air
Had I not heard the gong
Command the rules I would
Shadow soon, all day long…
In forfeited pursuit.

I never crossed that stream again...
If I needed, I went around.
I never opened my eyes to that bell...
Deaf to the lucky sound.

Will it come...will it come...

It will come when it will come...

I am done waiting for you.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Threatened Zebra Crossing

Forget me not, forget me not,
As was I before you took hold of my cane,
Its four o’clock, its four o’clock,
And I am going by your rules all the same.

I will not deny,
I too have a mind,
That you want entwined,
Around your silver knife.
I will not help you find,
My splintered mind,
As we both stand
With locked eyes.

Begone, I’m not you, alone I am blue,
That hazy shade of X-ray plates,
Your rosy cheeks, your rosy hood
Fume alienated by trace of innocence.

Past 4 now,
The city square clock
Has spoken,
Policeman’s whistle has already
Been blown,
You can’t feign to kill anyone
Accidentally anymore…

I see a blind man tottering on the edge
Of the weathered pavement,
Trying to cross the road, great distress.
I see you run to his aid,
I cringe at this sight.
For I know later that day
You will be found
Narrating to another man,
Blind otherwise,
About what you had done
At 4 o’clock…

About how you empowered the man.

Monday, August 11, 2008


My feet dug into cacti thorn,
I stagger awhile to regain control,
This journey has led me nowhere, so far…
Yet one must simply go on…
I shade my eyes with my hand,
I let not my eyes waver away from the sands,
This afternoon has lingered longer than I thought…
I know I may fail finally soon…

I see, oh I see, shards of glass
Tinkering in the bright sunlight,
Flirting with the sun’s slow progress,
It could be real or a mere mirage.

Your wide line of defenses
They wring your life of mistakes,
But I know I might drown, in the sea of my own,
Still I trust no defense…
I would rather plough my wilderness
Of weeds that sprout in hollow darkness,
Than hear in my own head,the voice of reproach…
I would never know regret again…

The past is blind in its death,
I mourn it in the colors envisaged
By my tomorrow, my beautiful tomorrow…
I leave my dreams to you…

I know I am soaked in your blood,
I will do anything to guard you but
Not the contrite words of a religion,
Regression they are, my cremation.
I will not die, with the past…
I will not let it buy my soul.
I will not regret, I will not regret,
Call me stupid, call me cold.

Perfect Plan

A swirling mist
Over a lonely road,
Your fogging silver frames,
And your asphalt mirror.
You clutch your left wrist,
Couldn't it bleed rather?
You ask...
But one last time you look,
Your face clouds over.
Your watch, it says…
Your game is over.
It’s that time already.
The perfect plan uncovers….
Its gnarling claws.
Your game is over.
A new day is tomorrow
Today would be never,
You and I shall be always
In a way, two lovers.
For now the ransom
Leave it there,
Turn away---not a look
Over your shoulder.
Oh no, what is happening?
I am bleeding here!
I ask...
What have you done?
Tell me how, traitor!
You bid my dreams to come undone...
And my game over...
But you never let me tell you the plan
You bid our fate together
To be ran over.
A new day is tomorrow
Today would still be here,
You and I shall always be
In a way, two lovers.

The perfect plan,
The perfect day,
The perfect hour…
Will never play
At petty fogging silver frames over lonely roads
Look up,
There’s a piece of satin sky taut above you.
The other side of the bleak and fateful evening...
It was a perfect plan,you have to admit.
In the was a perfect plan.
So I smile, reclined on my velvet floor
Knowing what you will never know,
Knowing that you will never know,Love,
The truth of my planned perfection.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

A little prose is like a perfect rose...each of its fragments swirls in one uniform line around and around from a fertile base and opens into a broader vista of meanings and perceptions.
Poetry...just trails off at every chance it gets.Like a poet of its own device. Trails off deeper into some imagery, and a little near the surface in others....but stray it does...
I have three very precise realisations to note down.Maybe I will 'poetry'-fy them one day..but for now,prose is my best man.
1.Wisdom. It is not about speaking wise words in an emotionless,levelled voice.It is about speaking of emotions at an wise stance.
2.Life.It is not being thrilled by books,images,of the 'unknown' and hence seeking them out as beauties of life.It is about discovering the beauties that no scholar has heard of...mostly in the smaller things.Not Taj Mahal,but the crooked teeny shack by the canal.
3.Love. Its not one thing.But many things.And one can love many,in succession,in a lifetime,and anyone who tells you you're fickle has no idea how short life is and how generous love is.

One of my older poems/songs,I forgot to post---HAND OF REMORSE

Dig a hole for me
In that ground you stand.
I need to look deep,
To better understand
The reasons you give
For the ground you stand.

I don’t need your alibi,
I need only explore your pockets
I need no witnesses,
I need gather only your fingerprints.
Show me your hand.
Darling, show me your hand.
Of remorse.

Bear to me,
Your disciplined fangs.
I need to feel
Their sharp bloody gnash,
For the threat you give
Of your disciplined fangs.

I need no alibi,
I need only explore your pockets,
I need no witnesses,
I need gather only your fingerprints,
Show me your hand.
Darling, show me your hand
Of remorse.

Does it hurt to open your eyes yet?
Does it bleed to breath through your nose yet?
Does it burn to move your feet yet?
Does your chest spasm to feel it yet?
If you're dying to feel remorse yet...
You're finally there...then...finally there...

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Sanctuary- The Song

It’s a translated world
Of silver mud,
And honeycombs full
Of golden mud,
Meandering streams
With murky mud,
And, knee-deep, legs
Wriggling inside.

All held by,
The dirt of nature,
Singing melancholy on and on…on and on
All in a bind
Struggling together,
Screaming sweetly on and on…

In an evergreen world
Green faces grow…
Green-lights signal
The traffic to flow,
’Long with mute glances,
Across windows.
No one to know here
Salvage in tow.

All held mute,
Trying to seem foreign,
Singing unfathomably on and on...on and on
All secured,
Struggling in vain,
Screaming sweetly on and on...

On and on…and on…
On and on…and on…
On and on…and on

And though I know
That you have seen me
I will let you think
Like you want me to
That I did not see you
Looking at me
to imagine
How it is my mind thinks.

Sunday, August 3, 2008


You leave me not,
You leave me never...
In pain,in recovery,
You are always there...

It always gets better in the end.
Soon after the horror grips you from within,
Leaving no trace of the spread-eagled glow
Of the morning sun,
That you flick away when it reaches your chin,
And makes you turn over the wet, spotted pillow,
Legs intertwined, and hair undone.
But somehow it always gets better in the end.

Your saddle, your gold brown saddle…
Do they still clink the way you told me?
And your mare, your dark brown mare…
Does it still frisk the way you showed me?
For I still dream of them night after night,
Though the reason has left our lives…
To ride away…
With you…to run away…

The meaning in it was lost.
Like the lingering creak when I opened the door,
And the shuffling behind the rows of books---
Left to itself to rot;
In my memory, they would all rot, books and bookstore;
Do I surrender to the death of my nook?
I could think not…
Somehow now the meaning in these fears is lost.

Your saddle, your gold brown saddle…
Do they still clink the way you told me?
And your mare, your dark brown mare…
Does it still frisk the way you showed me?
For I swell with hope to feel you again,
To run into you every other day...
To cry on...
Beside fight on...

Now that it is better, so much better in the end,
The meanings in the seconds of the time spent
Is lost down the path of that hastened end.
But,though the need has left our lives,
It feels know that our ride
Is always there to bear us away need we might...

You leave me not,
You leave me never...
In pain, in recovery,
You are always there...

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

World Shack III (Innocence) - Compass of Time

Compass of time, won't you try,
Won't you try to find them again?

...Not in the name, no,not in the name.
Nor in the bright red ribbons flying high
Up with the bits of scraps they call kites.
Not in the droop in their little sentences,
Not in the casuarina knots on their fences...

It was the walk, skinny legs apart,
One facing east,the other north,
Or,one south and other west,
Down that bronze winding path they all went

And how they left...
Kites in the east, ribbons in the north,
Little men in the west, little women in the south.
Shot and left.

Compass of Time, won't you try,
Won't you try to find them again?

World Shack II (Circles)-The Nothing

The light I lit is burning down to nothingness
And I am sovereign where I am nothing;
‘Cause there is nothing here yet burning or to possess
No one can have it; no one can steal this of me.

And I’m carved out of the goodness
Of the destitute on the breaking banks.
Baked with mud, the infant once raises
One trembling feet above the ground
And I pushed it in, as deep as it goes.
I pushed it in, out of sight of my woes.

I was you once upon a time in a mythical land
Harried by the tidal currents and moon,
Nothing holds the ebb on my hide as I understand
The fallacy of this existence, I have stolen.

*Second Stanza-repeat*

You cannot console me!
Bring the child to me.
Nothing can justify this sin!
Tell him I will wait for him...
There is nothing fair in this,
You cannot tell me there is.

It’s not my sweat,
It’s not my blood,
It’s not my life,
I deserve.
It’s his,
Give it back to him, God,
Give it back.
I would be nothing,
Had he not starved to death.
I am nothing,
Till I know the way he went.

Monday, July 28, 2008

World Shack I (Horror)- Cellotaped Limbs

She was born the day the wars begun,
Or so she was told,
She had never known war and life apart,
And to her, cruelty and endurance
Were the only two ways of life...

She rocked on her rickety tool back and forth, back and forth.
Sipping her first tea in three months, she wiped the spilt bit down her front.
She had been running; now she sat wheezing,
Smiling, she sat craning her neck into the antiquity darkness in the west…
Trying to reason with her mind’s lewd pain
As the darkness was retracting its cover
Slowly from her scars, and the gaping hole on her right shoulder.

The rattle house of war-weapons now become free, so very free;
The battles are at long last over, though ropes still dangled from the trees
And poles, hungry clouds and hungry bellies
Can collapse on to the drought-dredged grounds in convulsive pain…
They can daydream about morrows ahead,
They can drink to their birthdays again,
And with eyes pried,see faces, not photographs…down some memory lane.

She looked away…
From the light that played on the frays of the glass
Cracked in the middle by a bullet one day,
She looked away,
From the patches of yellow on her threadbare floor
Where she was born,
She looked away,
From the dark that moved away
And the light that made its way,
Resting itself on both her shoulders,
She looked away.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Again Train...(for The Book--- 6 Strings of the Clock---by Tacs)

It streams past the stark trees,
Bound together by silver strings-
They fleet on by soundlessly…
It looks on, as I stumble upon
The bricks of my misplaced platform.
And I am humbled down, now I am alone.
Repenting not pulling the chain,
Not stopping the train, I am
Lost, homeless, and in my wait, I am stoned.

Now only illusions-neon beneath the starry legions-
Glint brighter to falsify my all conscious convictions.
And I know, in the wisdom wrought alone by hallucinations,
-As I squint in the dark
To check my broken clock-
Whatever time, it tells, is the time… that my walk backwards begins.

Home, this limp body, suddenly pines for home,
These drunken steps leave the platform,
This time, these naked feet hit the gravel,
These cold, white, rain-soaked feet will be my train…
They bleed already, but I cannot wait. My train,
It will stream past the stark trees again…

Tuesday, July 15, 2008


Stop, don’t hurt it!
What did little ant ever do to you?
Stop, don’t soak it!
It only wanted to crawl on you.
Stop, don’t break its legs!
It only wanted a moment on you…

Raise all your heads up to me,
I am assailed by the paints and I read
The bigger picture, the larger words,
Hungry for the sounds of pleading,
Magnified, synchronized,
And stringed this-worldly thoughts.

Fear; don’t close your eyes,
Has the forked lightning yet struck you?
Love; don’t wear it with lies,
Lightning sparks will find its way to you.
Ambition; don’t shake my nights,
Don’t want to capture the free bolt of blue…

My senses are fierce,
Rigorous and wistful,
My hands are shaken
I suddenly, recognize
Everything is magnified…
So magnified…
My hands are shaking, hold on to me…
You there, you magnified...

Hold on to me...

If you want to see...

Hold on to me.

Magnified me.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Implosion of laughter - The Song

It was a morning dream...perhaps...a sublime,sallow morning dream...

Now that I am awake,it implores to my conscious feelings.Like the unernourished fingers of that child in my dream.You...

It took that dreamside road accident to shake my turbid and confiscated wings of existence.As I lay sprawled and uncomposed...i had to let go.I finally had to.

A whistle now and then, a skip now and then, a hum..or even a loud thought now and then...

Where were they all gone?

You woke me up,in my dreams.And now I will never sleep again...

Behind every door, I am now.
Behind every tree, I am now.
Behind every black glass, I am now.
I am nowhere you want me to be…
I am everywhere you will never peek…

So tell me...why those insane people always dress
Either too much or too less,
Are their blood not stirred
By that same heat that keeps us all from dearth?
So here I am standing obliquely
Peering into an unknown face.
Here I am beaming,I'm laughing with uncertainty
That I am lost, with nobody to rest
My head on…my bleeding head.

Within every flat tire, I am now.
Within every crack, I am now.
Within every dog-eared page, I am now.
I am in a single moment’s eternity…
I am in a one-word wisdom’s leak…

So tell me
Why when they speak,their mouths twist with grace?
When all that they say
Are to themselves,
Blindfolded,untranslated, solitary to our existences.
So here I am standing obliquely
Peering into an unknown face.
Here I am beaming with uncertainty,
That I am lost,with nobody to rest
My head on…my bleeding head…

Let it all bleed out...let it all bleed out!
The dark,red,gleaming thoughts.
Let it put the sane world to shame and disarray
That I'm laughing at the implosion of light.
(When I'm laughing,at the) Implosion of my Sight...
(Yeah,I'm laughing at the )Implosion of my Mind...

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Tic Tac Toe

Empty square of TicTacToe box fills the whole of this distraught page...and my wood pencil lies your turn, so I can play mine too...

Change this game...cuz I cant change my mind anymore...
There must be a gateway to hell
A way of will,
A reason to be able to mull
Over the words we wish to hear
Faces we want to know,
Things we need to learn.
There must be a way to change time too.
I saw the blue prints of nostalgia
Heard the thunders of giggles
The explosions of whispers
The slap of an embrace…
But I never saw the grey face of nostalgia.
Till now…
There must be a way to change that too.
This is the unwritten journal
This is the dilation of iris in dark
This is the expansion of chest
Before a catch of breath…
There must be a way to realize that too.
You are not that yellow dream
You are not that past laced with longing
You were not even there a few days back…
I don’t miss you for the past we had together
But for the days we could have had.
And there isn’t a way to change that…without you.

I can only clutch my wooden pencil
And pray…
Beautiful day…
I can only pray…

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Human Eyes

My breathe gets entangled in a host of guilt and despair, every time I sit to think of you....even though I knew you less than two weeks...even though I don't even know if you knew me...even though I hardly recall your colors...the many colors under crimson, in which you came...and's not even's...only haunting....

They were human eyes,
Ablaze with lost fear,
Placid with burnt tears,
Looking out of its blurred corner,
They never looked straight ahead.
Like it knew there was nothing ahead,
Nothing… but scattered feathers.
In the gap in my wall
Where she staged her fall,
As sudden as she came us to befall.

They were human eyes,
I could never look away from,
Holding my gaze, on and on,
Like the clouded insides of a crystal ball,
As if it could tell me what was ahead.
Like it knew everything about what was ahead
Of me…but just would not make known.
In the gap in my wall
Where she staged her fall
As sudden as she came us to befall.

She had stopped eating for days,
Her mutilated wings concealed her bosom.
It seemed it was still covertly tending
To her mutilated grace as well.
But when she stopped eating for days-
We all knew…
Pigeon, she was not a mere pigeon
Breathing through nine air sacs,
Human, she was just another human,
Her soul bound to the flights of her past.
Graceful as she was sad, mute as she was wise;
And this telling us, she bade us goodbye.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

The Twisted Fate of Today

It hurts to know that you tried to betray me today,
It alarms to realize that you can betray me this way,
It astonishes to see the glint of triumph in your face,
All this is not what I say, but what you will say…
Forever, each and every day of that forever,
Forever, after today…

And even though I am not perfect,
Even though I have given up on regret,
And have only a dried, scarlet patch left…
Besides me in my maroon bed,
I am finally, where finality of decisions meets,
Finally, I am content…
So content.

That you will cry all night,
And die today…
Today. I am so content. Today.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

My Second Person

When August was blowing its farewell kiss,
I came to finally exist,
In the mystic called Life on Earth,
But that was not my one last birth.

For this mind is a Bohemian persuasion of the End,
And it’s blind, to the premonitions of the living dead.
And this cry is for the debris of what is not sacred
I am aroused by the inside, not the plaster of your façade…

Of a boy or girl, in your hollow reflection.
When the calm water rippled, wanted just to see a person.

When the crumbs of flat ground came to seek
Me, was when it reeked,
That I shall remain the last one to stand,
Don’t want to let you become so bland.

So when you asked me who I am again and again,
My mind sought to dig its own solitary grave,
For the fear was deep, my search for myself
Did not want it to end this way, did not want it to face...

A boy, or a girl, in its hollow reflection,
When the calm water rippled, wanted it to see a person.

But I am lost in gaze into my shadowed eyes,
It isn’t a calm water about to be rippled by
Any wind or my breath, or a sigh…
It is flat glass…how or where will I find…
My Bohemian person and its mind?

Monday, June 30, 2008


Liquid garlic stings my eyes,
But I have forgotten to cry,
I have forgotten to sigh,
Everything I believe is not really mine
To claim myself messiah.
It is a desire to stay on oblivious
To the stark division in my impervious
Faith;it stands like a void ambition,
Cannot go on without the answer.
At the end of the day, it’s all in the head,
The beads of sweat, gathering at the frame of my forehead,

At night in the sapid darkness,
Are all yearning for an answer.

For,I swore my sins are my own

To remember alone...Yet?

As the hackneyed,holy chant goes on,
Eyes pressed shut in covert prayer,
The holy water clinging limply from some brows,
I gaze on into the clay eyes austere,
Forgive me, I have no prayer,
None I believe you can fulfill.
I demand no wishes granted,
I only wish for my questions answered.

They offered wishes this time to each other,
Stooped and touched a few wizened feet,
I hover like a shadow, discrete from the others,
Convincing myself the Dhup smells sweet.
Its milky tails of wisp, the earthy ashes stay scattered,
Amidst the stench of the sacrificial blood,
With the amorphous prayers of my mind’s blood clot.

This time, I shall walk the path of red bricks,
This time,I shall stalk the echoes of receding heartbeats,
This time, I shall seek my roots again…

I wish to know…
I wish to know the reason in the reason
In the faith of my Faith.
Where it started or why it ever ends?
My immortal bed,is dying and maimed,
The world’s caving in, I have to let it show.
I either believe, or I do not…
Where do I begin?
Answer me now…
That is my prayer, my wish, my ambition.
Answer me now…
Now…or never…

If not now...
Never call me back again,

Never sting my name,never call me again...

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Happier.In this World.

I would have been happier…
In a different world…we would have all been happier…
Happier...not having to be ourselves all our defended lives…
Happier…to simply not be, maybe?

I saw a woman in rags today.
No she wasn’t a beggar.
I saw her as the day was inward bound…
Into the twilight suspension of mildew and pollution…
Wearing a kurta so dirty the color underneath had surrendered
To that color of slow submission, the color of comatose dreams-grey.
But she wasn’t a beggar…
She heaved onto her shoulders two bulging bags,
Her precious possessions…
Excluding her from the indignity of begging…
I couldn’t read her expression as I ran past, in my insignificant but frigid hurry…
In this world it should be…numbness to regression…
In the other, it is the desperation to live…
And that felt, though quaint in this world…but closer to the truth about her.
I wondered why she hadn’t committed suicide. Yet.

Yes, I would have been happier dead if I was her.

I would have been happier
If I didn’t hesitate that one delaying minute in reaching out my hand for you,
I would have been happier
If I could answer those questions of your five-year old eyes…
I would have been happier
If I could make the wind blow the hair back from your face…
I would have been happier
If I had a conscience loud enough to refrain me from breaching your trust…
I would have been happier
If I remember at the rightful moment, you never mean the hurtful things you said…
I would have been happier
If I didn’t have to satiate my narcissi by forgetting my past…
I would have been happier
If you didn’t have to stand at the tilted edge of the pavement looking like a beggar…
I would have been in a different world…
In a different life…

If only I could accept this the way you did,
I would have been happier.

Monday, June 9, 2008

Facsimile of a Praise

Hey, there…you
With your face all blue,
Buried in the hard morning grass,
Like it’s grown out of the soft soil
This very deaf morning,
Like all of this myriad while
You had not, really, even been.
But that is what earth speaks.
I say something else,
I see something else.

Now that you're helpless,
They speak of you.

I only see…
Your face all blue.
And in it, a betrothal facing extinction,
Been too long, censored forever,
It now lingers, while it threatens,
In half a beat of his heart,
Can anyone hear him calling?
But that is what she would speak.
I say something else.
I see something else.
Why would you not call for help?
Let her see your face...
The touch of your
Face all blue…
Too tangible for me to grasp,
The muscles are yet so strained,
Drooping eyelashes just brush
The earth ,by now,that is taint.
I feel,in your limp body,your neediness.
And a cry escapes you,
And me too!
You look up, and plea
With your eyes,
And close them again,
Before I let go of your blue face,
In the end,you called for me.
In the end you sought a savior...
In the end... I saved a stranger!

Friday, June 6, 2008


Too close to the truth, tantalizing from afar
The throbbing of this migrane
Won’t need a rest as I…
Pull the lever of the subway train,
I need to rear my aching head…
Above the surface.
I need to know.
How the earthquake appears…
From up there.

As the metal snake came to a screeching halt,
My face fell glued to the pane,
I sing lullabies to myself,
To herald my guilt in my pain…
To have a reason to hate…
My own clustered self.
I had to know…
Beyond my own face…
There, out there.

No matter what we say,
Or how adapted we seem,
We’ve always taken nauseated steps,
Many of them, back,
As blood ,spilt from the throat of a rat,
Extinguished under the subway train,
Inched towards our feet,
Slowly…against gravity.

Its nature against knowledge,
The centre against edge,
I don’t want to live in ignorance,
Let me rear my throbbing head.

Somewhere faraway,
In the middle of a busy street,
A head appeared from a pit hole
Looked bothways,before…
It was isolated from its body
By more than one car…
Yes, cars-the evolved compartments
Of outdated trains, once isolated…
To remain forever that way…
Can we survive this way?

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Inconsolable Nor-westers

If only…

If only this wind could promise to be the fingers,
To run through your hair,
Brushing away crispy fallen leaves
And fireflies of the twilight,
I could cross my heart
And go to sleep forever…
Something is...
Growing ever louder
Seemingly hailed with the distant murmurs,
From the rim of the darkening western horizon.

I need no other consolation.

The day we began is now lost in a blue blur,
Blinding the day we end
To it. How can they see,when our roads
Have parted, stripped of,clearly?
If only I could take away
One of these days with me, in this world or other…

Stop this fight!
Something is...
Growing louder…
Seemingly with the distant murmurs,
From the rim of the darkening western sky.

The day that was,is gone suddenly.
But I know it’s just a passing Norwester.
Though the night has cast its net early,
I know it’s just a passing Nor-wester.

This Nature won’t kill me this soon.
Not when I want to love it so.
I know…

And the end of my soul,
Feels consoled.
How can I console you too?

The day has gone…to console the day a firefly left your hair.
Here I leave my diaries to you, my confessions...
All the while I broke you down, tore your life apart,
My consolation was my urge,to be your consolation.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

The Rivalry--the song.

Oh! You disfigured green locust
Come to distract my focus from my prey.
How you find me time and again,I wonder!
I don't want to fight you anymore...

Don't cling to me any longer,
Remember your last pitfall.
I will come for me out of the dark.
I will come..once more.

Oh! you have made it your sordid destiny
To be renamed as my one and only nemesis.
While the void inside your head screams to you
I don't want to fight anymore...

Blood has been dripping in my wake,
Where you have me derailed.
Yet,when,I write these words,I must be awake,
You must have failed!

Why not?
Forever,savour the blood
Of what you conquer.



Wednesday, May 14, 2008

That Old Fear of Losing You

Fell the sweat from the hair in my eyes,
I came to a halt,to push it aside.
In a stoop,clutching my knees,
Panting this hard,the dust swirled up around my feet,
I curse the wrath
Of whoever that
Has been chasing me.
Till then my eyes were closed.
My body was cramped and soaked.
I laid crouched,upon my scarlet day.
Delirious,the hot water bag cannot convey
The unfinished words begged of me today…
By faces and voices, I care for so little.

I did not want my eyes open,
Did not want them to witness my pain.

So closed again, they search for me
Where I was last panting.
Now there is a solitary tree,upon my path
Hung with bald solitude,and twigs swathed
In ice crystals vividly opaque.
Thus I am looking skywards in hope,
This is a dream,so the sun is blazing,afloat,
In the mirage sky,and I don’t need to look down
To know the source of the next sound…

This time my eyes open calm, blithe,
Don’t know when the day rolled into night.
Before me staring ,at me beseechingly,
Is the still windchain
I know,I know….I was wrong,
Its not only the rain
That can awake me.
Its not just the elements that arouse me.
Maybe I am not as numb as I used to be.
I dissolve again beneathe closed eyes,
To be resolved in the startling fluorescent light.
In an elevator,going nowhere,or somewhere…
I should,and I could,but I don’t care.
Alone I was,with my reflection in the metal door,
Till it was replaced for a moment and forever with yours.

I couldn’t look away,
From your tinkering locket
From that mesmerizing,confusing halo made
On the protruding letterings on it.
It couldn’t be the 3 p.m.sun telling me,
The long day still remains...
We're still in the elevator!
And then too close to my ear,I hear
One Tick.

I break away.
From your embrace.
What is happening?
I thought you were gone!
Why are you with me?
I thought I never knew you!
Who are you???

I give away….
Don't heed me...I'm giving away...
Delirious with this compulsive pain...
I give away.

Monday, May 12, 2008


I had chanced upon a new path, a shortcut among short lanes
Through the marketplace…

And I chose to take it.

But was a path…shorter as it may be,
Overflowed with urban insanity.

Empoweringly shameless

Men who shoved a maimed, limbless boy
Out of their way.

And the stagnant salty,humid air of the cluttered
Fragmenting place….had succumbed to the unresisting
Pain slowly, had succumbed to silence.

I stopped one day,in my unrelenting way,to see
What kept the coins in our wallets.

Was everyone there struggling inside…like me,
Had conscience really left?

Was the path really such a mistake?
Couldn’t it be simply mistaken?

Friday, May 9, 2008

Successive times

(when the fallen petals grudgingly crunched beneathe our feet and pierced the silence,all we could do is confess to each other that we had a past beyond ourselves...why??because...that's the most significant thing about human lives.nothing is we kiss again,to savour the moment that we had...after confession.)

When you started to fumble with the reigns
Is when I started to gain my foothold again,
Look up at your assassin,
You were always fated to be

I succeed you to your crown,
Accept your defeat, it was meant to be.
Not a divine consequence,
Not even so much as a revenge,
Its been long now since you did
For the likes of this moment of glory.
And the glory is mine,
Its my time.
For this we were both destined.

Nothing is forever.

When you started to grumble under the burden
Was when I was sought by your very men,
To fix your complacence,
You were always fated to be
Thus overthrown.

By me or another poor thing
Brooding and grieving in the dark.
Some are leaving this land now,
Some curse you with death now,
They all agree, they all want
A leader, an assassin from their own clan.
They’re tired of being deceived by you,
They all want someone new.
This your successsion.

Nothing is forever.

Meanings and Misnomers

There’s the weak shudder of a half green sprout,
Like the others, it wishes it could too vibrate,
It worships its hinges to the mother plant,
Hoping, and praying, it never has to separate.
When a mockingbird flies past your home,
With a tweep,past the window,on the eleventh floor,
Do you stop fiddling with the processed chicken soup,
And listen,it asks you, 'what do you do?oh,what do you do?'

We fight in vain over the myriad varied names
For the varying addresses of heaven and hell.
While behind the corner of our eyes, life mutates
With mankind, into a misnomer…colossal.

I see myself in a half-buck coin precariously
Wedged in a corner, of a busy soiled gutter.
And in the water streaming the serene face,
In frozen escapade, of a stallion’s fountain sculpture.

Who needs a name! Who needs an address?
… When it’s all the same, a part of this beautiful nest?

I have touched a purple grain
Hidden within
The white sands of the shore
Where earth ends,
Paradise begins,
And I find my evanescence…
Buried beneath and hovering over
Them I shall forever remain,
I shall find my heaven in them,
And the reason for the
Existence of my very name.

We fight in vain over the seven varied names
For the varying addresses of heaven and hell.
While behind the corner of our eyes, life mutates
With mankind, into a misnomer...colossal.

Monday, May 5, 2008

Chaotic Simple life

Collapse onto my shoulders,
I am still here,
When everyone is gone, and I am bereaved,
I refuse to be taken…away.
Was a lapse of continuum, maybe,
Through a listless haze,
When everyone has left for, god knows where!-
I’m still pinned to my hideout in your arms.
Don’t have much of anyone else to confide in,
Don’t even have the weaker ones to console,
It’s a world to dare, am I the awkward one?
I walk the lonely path. No eyes to gawp when I stumble.

I am vulnerably awake to your innocence.
I am perfectly sane, I know I don’t want
To be suspended in the sick dreamlessness.

Mulling over the sirens screeching
About the changing skies,
Whether or not to heed it,
Or to stay open wide…
Not to the change, but to claim,
My own worship.

The singed hair will have to regrow,
I will have to reap the seeds I've sowed.
But I am certain,the strands will never whiten
As long as I am not here to just go.

Lines have never been, never will be.
Lines are for second lives, if that exists.

Chaos,my god,
Keep me righteous.
Keep the crumpled pages
Up flying in the sky,
So I can remember what was on my mind,
When I penned down, my simple immature life.

Saturday, May 3, 2008

Love me,zephyr.

I was basked in the bitterness of caramel
Reminiscent of the spinning hues of a carnival.
I was estranged, alive but limp and bleached,
In the humorless rain for months at a stretch,
I’d been so hungry, so hungry that I would feed
On the white-hot flakes of my soldering dreams.

But it never came.
And I was never hopeless.

To be able to blame its slow tick-tock,
For long I had been winding my wall-clock,
I’ve grown rigid, a potted plant,in the slow motion
Of the one-dimensional, unchanging, legions
Of words,same words,same weak,unique words
And out the glass door,I hear the rain approach.

Once again, it came.
It never came.

I’m sprawled on the brown lawn,
I’ve shed the last shred of clothing,
Sprinklers come to life,
Like they know I’m sinking,
Into the depths of the folds of my own skin.
I’ve unleashed the hunger,I go no further,
And no one has seen me this way before.

You were never here,
Everytime it rained.
In the losing desire,
Never saw a victorious zephyr,
What was it that kept you away,
The rain or the wait for zephyr?
I don’t know you like I knew them,
I don’t trust you the way I did them,
But I’m more naked than ever before,
No one has seen me this way before.

Friday, May 2, 2008

Tireless Wonderment

Chastified, tepid nigh night,
Unwoven waves thrash inside,
Hold me quiet, help me shun
The screaming voices close by,
They’re gnawing at my crown.
And don’t tell me the voice is mine,
Don’t want to know,
Don’t want to know where my chosen path
Has tossed me today.
For tomorrow is laid in its boulevard,
It needs me,as do I.
My dreams have suffered in the fear of this find,
Don’t tease me, my lost child.

Like you, I want to be just like you,
My aimless, missing one.
Like the melted silver tears of the moon,
Fuelling the pace of my sleep.
Like you, let me be just like you.

Dimpled dirty soot-black face,
I yearn for your snow-white embrace.
I need your wandering legs,and
Your sundry curiosity complex,
Wash me with your facecloth,
I wish to collapse on your knees,
Long to faint in peace.
Long to wait in peace for the waning of my morrows
In the light after darkness.
I tremble stiff,like the crystallized leaves
Of a snow besotted suburb.
The ashen brick pillars sigh steam and smoke on my mind,
Even as I lie naked in the open.

I long to be like you,little one.
I long for the surprise that my
Mirrortwin can evoke with my
Eyes open wide
I reach to touch the other face
Across the edge of this lonely Reality,
Beyond the barbwire of tangibility.
And I stroke the awe of the truth that I
Behind my shadow,exist.
Commit me ,child, again to that Avalon
Of mermaids and fairies.

Oh,innocent aimless child,make me wonder again.
Make me wonder,not why I am me…
But how I got to be the one and only…

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

My belongings

Take these wings and hide them away,
Take my word it is never safe
Out there in the world to where you’re being sent,
They all lust for your feathery scent.

Clandestine fatal wings,
She is mine,when I am amiss
Upon the walls you have me against,
She is out taking me spiraling out of your reach.

Clandestine,she is mine,
Dont try to find,behind
Her pretencious eyes,
Your dead bride,
Dont fool yourself!
She's your suicide.

Your mind,its riddled with the noise of wings,
Drowns the voice of your humble inklings,
You think you love me enough to make my choice,
That now you have taken to stealing my voice.

Clandestine fatal wings,
She is mine,when I am amiss.

'Dont understand,why you cant,
Be happy with
Your own two hands.
Why must you suppress me,
Did you never hear,
Live and let be.

One day you will fall with the dead stars from the space,
And lie cold,so cold!in the feathers of your own mistakes,
They who try to outshine the love that they get,
Finally fade,trying to outshine their ownselves.
I...I will have forgotten your name,and who you were,
The world...the world would forget that you ever were.

She stays with me,secretly,no one must try to know,
She is mine,I belong to me,and I won't let her go.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

The Unforgivable Deception

 I have been long,
Standing strong,
Watching you appear,
And fast disappear.
Didn't you call me your playmate?
How could you be so innocent?
So perfect...always trying to catch the ice melt,
And now look what you have done.
You dissolved your own path....

Deliver me.
Deliver me from this plaque of right and wrong,
Don't want to stay so wronged.

Now you have me weakening,
Upon my own deceptive reflections.
Solitude spins a web of conscience,
Taking my trust from own self

While faces take your shape,
Asking me to love them back.
Kill this vision that haunts me so!

Locked doors try to captivate
Me with this sense of your presence.
And the night has me threatening me
Of exposure around sleep-talkings

While I struggle
To disentangle my shadows from yours.
Kill this vision that haunts me so!
Kill it!

Don't know what I want to say,
Whether I want them to know I repent,
Or whether I truly do at all,
Or if it is merely my selfishness
So I can finally find
Peace with my oldselves.

I have been long
Standing strong,
Watching you writhe in pain.
I have caught the ice melt,
Into my palms as I have let,
You slowly drain. 

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Trilogy of Light--Part I-- THE GUARDIANS

The roads,
In the land of Hope,
Is run all alone,
By the Guardians of light.

And the flight,
Of the stars into the night,
As they start to collide,
With the shields of vengeance.

They confess,
They do confess,
But nothing ever happens.

This is the land tortured by,
The Guardians of Light.

Is the cause of our time,
For the sake of mankind,
To call old man a disgrace.

And the face,
Of her face black with dismay,
Her mother cries in vain,
Oh, what a feeble shame!

But they pray,
They do and did pray,
But nothing paid.

Let the fire break out,
Let all be erased out,
Let the mutiny of the last
Be the story of the flags.

This is the land of hope,
And everyone sleeps alone.
The land tortured by,
The Guardians of Light.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Rapunzel,Rapunzel,Where do you hide?

As Night is simmered in radiating heat,
You can see a glimmer,of a radiant spirit,
Where the bed wasn't made,on the other side,
You wish to be there,you try to deny,
You fall to your pillows,the confession stand,
With truth they betray you,deny you can't

Fastened to despondence,
Responding to only lunatics,
Suppressed by the fear of this dusk,
I am sure its the work of hypnotics.

Something is taking me piece by piece,
Undoing the closures,smoothening every crease.

Come away from the valley of composure,
Terminate my pride for my closures,
I'm grieving under the stars of fortnight,
Wishing to come undone.
I've left my home,and all my statues.
You and me,all undone.  

As the fervent dreamer,sanctifies his greed,
This pride flickered,furious but timid.
But where I wished to melt through the floor,
I'm melting out of my footholds,
I'm a sinner to deny the love that flowed,
Trying to touch me,but touched mere cold.

As I let go,of the hunger that never showed,
I feel cratfted by a devious religion,
I have to let go,or I may never know,
How twisted I might have been.

Something is taking me piece by piece
Undoing all closures,reason eclipsed.

Come for me where I lie static,
Warm,and undone.
Seek me where I breathe steady,
Serene,and undone.

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Nipped,frozen,red PLUMS OF A BUNCH

The sun looks green through the screen
Of the classroom we’re all locked in.
Locked in, blocked out from outer space,
We lust, we thirst, and we’re human beings.

Faraway the sky looks grey.
The cataract in the solar eye,
Fails to see that we won’t learn,
From the books given to us by the Wise.
Little darling,where do you run away,
Believe in us,you are not alone.
You will be mated,like everyone else,
Or if not,you’re not alone.

(Nipped, frozen, red little plums,
Hanging in a branch,
Whispering to each other.
Sweet, acrid left clustered together.
Left to learn what the soil only knows,
Left beyond salvation thus forever.)

Like fleshy worms, on blackboard swarm,
Words that we read in unison.
In unison, we breach the rules of the hall
Of shame, we reach for the same Throne.

Somewhere God doesn’t await,
Our dwindling one by one,
I still cry for him, she cries for me,
This is the imperfect cycle of Human.
Little darling, where do you run away,
Believe in us, you are not alone.
The only one so, in this damned world
Is the one sitting above us all.

New little plum in this old branch,
Do not run away frightened.
We may be nipped,but we are together,
None shall try to sever our cluster.
We will suffer,but never as much,
As the lonely one who sits above us.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Looking ahead...

When the Present looked at me today,
With languid,soft brown eyes,
That wuthers away the tides of the Past,
I resented it.
I hated it for holding me like that,
Touching me,
Feeling me... like that.
I resent it.

The hand that touches so many others,
Should it caress me akin,
I feel impure,locked in an unholy embrace,
Struggling to break free...
I resent it.

The brown trees that stood before me,
Have been there for ages,
They are kind,to me in the rain,
They are kind to me today.
But I know,what I know
And I resent it.
The solace from thunders,the shed
Have overlooked many other heads,
But I know that their humility is but a facade.
They know they are taller than those heads.
I know they know..
So I resent it.

But the autumn leaves
Sprawled on the ground,
Will soon not be there.
Some will shiver,and rise tremblingly,
And take flight on air,
While some would succumb to the frostbite,
And parch in liplock with the earth.
I am happy,
That there life before my very eyes,
Is numbered.

So in this Present,I look to you,
My friend from the future.
No one writes to you,but me,
Upon this early winter.
No one knows,you exist,
My friend from faraway,
There is still reason for me,
To try to break away...
There is still reason for me,
To keep looking ahead.

Monday, January 21, 2008

Adolescent boy

Upon a shimmering summer day,
Upon a windswept May highway,
Dirt-tracks and vacancy signs,here and there
There and here...
I sip on the last drop of water,
I take on the cracked vision of earth,
There and here,here and there,
I'm simply begone.
Nowhere near,nor too far,
It's the vertical horizon.

Adolescent boy broods and looks,
Take me away,he says,take me away.

Croaky laughter in the middle of the day,
Trying to not try to forget,
High on the last breathe,here and there,
There and here...
And then the reason suddenly slips,
Who was expected to be lingers only,
There and here,here and there,
Hope is rejoiced.
Nowhere near,nor too far,
Its the vertical horizon.

Adolescent boy holds his breathe,
Take me away,boy,take me away.

Petals of darkness blossoms then,
Sun is flat,only red remains,
Ushering the graceful moon,here and there,
There and here...
Playful stars,pave the road,
My hope is refilled,
There and here,here and there,
I know why,
Nowhere near,nor too far,
Its the vertical horizon.

See the light of beauty's birth,
History never repeats.
I broke my wings,many a time...
But the wind never comes saying it will blow,
The angle never stays the same,
The dawn never approaches at the same second...
On the same vertical horizon.

Adolescent boy,wakes up at night,
Come to make pain bearable,
Adolescent boy,he knows how--
For hope,he has the nightvision,
Adolescent boy alone knows what
Its like to be in the horizon...

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Diaries of Amnesia

Here when the treasures fall
From the sky upon earth
Ricocheting off the sand-dunes,
Here of the red desert of shifting sands,
Our rugged feet take the grains, diminishing, dissolving
Into the waters of the yellow river,
Where with the rain, they are drained
Drained, forever.

Our inception, our origin, serendipity to those,
Slithering on the floor, who were there before us.
When we were made was it said,we all had a name,
Different to our birth, maimed by our versatile secrets?
Or was history made, futures fortold,
And we were to follow the path,
Unheeding of what our hearts hold?

So here I dry,forgotten sometimes,forgetting at others,
Like a withering begonia bud.
When I forget,the desert forgets,
As who I was to be remembered.

The deafening screeches
Of the resonating silence,
Where sound words tantalize from afar
I can hear,that they are near,
Yet I forgot how to embark on a search.

A door in my head has closed on me,
I am running frantically.
Open, door ,open, I plea,
Open for all, if need be…
Open,door,open,I’m begging me
I denounce the use of keys.

There is the crunch, of a broken branch,
And I tend to follow the sound,
But there is a mist,hovers over the swamp,
I cannot be found.

The words separate,voices too,
Walls fall apart, void is all I see.
Lock me, let me in!
I want to know why I am me!
I want to know why I am me…