Wednesday, November 16, 2011

The Muse

My Muse is still alive,
Breathing, gasping,and persevering;
A hungry callus of throbbing dead cells
Nostrum to the paraplegia of our united dreams...
It's lying on the grass, gazing up to the sky
Etching a new dream, with the palette in it's eyes
Living a life, fresh out of the pages
Of  a new diary, or a receding sigh.

Who are you?
The shapeless shapes in your comatose visions.
Where are you?
Somewhere in the recesses of your epicure mind.
How are you?
Alive and breathing...
Dreaming of a clear blue sky.
A blessing, in the form of a quasi memory...
Running away from the islands of qualms,
Rushing headlong to forget.
But the Muse is still alive,
Aiding to not abet,

Egging me on to forget...
The scenes from the life
My Muse begets.

A splattered raindrop and gravity's corsette,
Squeezing it down, drying away in its own footsteps...
The Muse shall build, the Muse shall erase.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Reloading---ramblings,don't read :)

An old love's verve sometimes rings like the churchbells...divine yet sinister all at the same time.But such that you can't keep yourself from listening to it till it fades out,even the last of the reverberating whispers...
And then you will invariably look up one last time as if with some subconscious hope that the source of all the ruckus would simulate some of the effect its gonging had just caused.But when it doesn't, you just walk away...
Someone,a very good and old friend, joked about a stupid habit of hitting 'Refresh' to the inbox of his email account and just staring at it while it loads and then repeating the cycle.Moronic,bordering on some kind of Tourret's tick,right? But he also said that while he does this...he has plenty of time to reflect on plaintive things and slowly,by around the 67th reloading of the same page (and no new mails yet) delve deeper into that one cell of thought and explore all its possibilities.Hence all his Philcrap.
Now I was laughing at him the whole time and not one of those giggles I am so proud of.No, but one of my guffaws...which also I am very proud of,by the way. So anyway, there I was guffawing not realising for one second that 14 hours later I would be doing the same thing and 14 hours and15 minutes later writing this.
So he (not the old friend;the he-who-must-not-be-named 'he') snubbed me again.Big deal.He does it every day almost.Nose,heart,butterfly chamber (wherever that is)...all that.And so what if 2 minutes before that I was being my pathetic self and reclaiming my concerned anxiety for his little puke spells.But incidentally this whole transpired over gtalk and right after the snubbing, I reflexively fell to the refresh,let it load,refresh cycle and 5 minutes later...I signed out.
Yes.It's time to hit Refresh.

Friday, November 4, 2011

Friend and I

I had a friend.
We dug up mini caverns
In the backyard garden and pretended
To be cavemen, with our inadequate words
And fall asleep to wake up in our beds…
Schizophrenic children, worst best friends.
Till our time came, you paraphrased your name.
I have a friend.
We chase ant trails and
Draw rude words in uncouth window mists,
Blow bubbles in wiry lanes
And chortle at soapy breaths…
When the clock strikes monsoon, and he can’t be there.
We count moon clouds,
Gather bookmarks
Curl up, legs intertwined
And humor our old friends,
With a snort and a high high five…
Then she becomes another dream…another friend.
I like purple, he likes blue,
No, we both like red, his shirt and my dirty fingers…
It’s not a birthday card,
It’s a little paperboat
With a hundred words in its multifold…
And we smile, and I blink, it’s another friendly face.
We giggle all day, lipbalm or vodka breathed
Not enough pathos to fill our heads,
Her fingers through my hair,
Our feet tiptoes through forbidden streets
A beat and our cover is blown, we dance in defeat…
When the smog ebbs, she calls herself back,
Crashed vicissitude in her footfall dies
And everyone gather to remain quiet
They hold her hand as she dials…

To a text that is sent from me to