Haunted by this unrest
The mind refuses to settle down
Divided by my own self
I’ve become so empty now
Imprisoning waves of despair
Funnel me into a void
The cold, dark and decaying rain
Purges my soul with corrosion
I drown on the solid ground
Into a hole in the abyss
Screaming for my own demise
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Sunday, January 01, 2012
Monday, December 26, 2011
Music had always...
Music had always done strange things to Raja, he had first heard music when he was still in his mother’s womb. The sound of the crackling transistor radio playing tunes of the west had caused him to tap his feet when he was but a child of a child.
Raja had always pictured himself even as a child that he wanted to become a musician. He had known no greater joy than the joy he would get when he would listen to virtually any kind of music was immeasurable for him. His grandfather would play the Sarangi on occasion and the melody would take Raja into another world. Right from the day he first started speaking, he always wanted music around him. His mother would sing him to sleep and sing to him when she bathed him in the cold waters. He would ask his elder sisters, all 7 of them, to sing him songs that they knew. He wanted more and more of music when he heard it and he would tire everyone out in the family.
His father noticed that he had a keen sense of music and a thirst for it. One day, Raja returned after playing in the fields to find a strange old man with a smile on his face talking to his father and grandfather. What he did not know was that he was a well known scholar, traveler and teacher. He had travelled the world and had with him books and what not from all parts of the world. He was called Guriji by everyone. He was initially scared to approach this old man. He had long hair and wore a robe that dwellers and holy men would wear. His smile had something amazing about him and he was always smiling. Raja heard his father say that he would be staying with them for a few months. Strangely he was happy when he heard that. Being the youngest of the family, he was not encouraged to join adults in their conversation unless called to join in so. He was peeking in from the corner when Guruji smiled at him and called him. Knowing not what to do, Raja hid himself but the old man came to him and offered him a hand.
He held the old man’s hand, he smile back to him and said,” Hello, Raja, I’m Vivek, would you like to come sit on my lap. “ Raja had always thought of himself as an adult and he replied quickly, “no, Guruji, I will sit on the floor.”
This small conversation made Raja immensely happy. He felt like he knew the man and that they would be good friends. He was glad that Guruji would stay and also in some corner of his mind, he was excited. He did not know why at that moment. Guruji shifted his focus from the conversation to him and asked him what he liked, MUSIC!! Was his answer in the blink of an eye. It was as if he was waiting to be asked.
The elders talked a little more about how things were changing and teaching children was becoming a problem as most of the ashrams had been dissolved because of the war. Soon it was time for dinner and the proceeded downstairs to the kitchen. Raja was sent to bed with his younger brothers but he could not sleep, for some reason he thought he heard music playing and singing. He decided to check things out so he slipped into the shadows and walked in the dark towards the lawn. The lawn was the place where adults gathered, talked, drank and on occasion sang as they sat around the fire.
Raja hid himself behind a sack of dried leaves that were kept next to the kitchen door. He was immediately noticed by Guruji and he called out to him. He was scared as children was not supposed to be at an adults gathering. He trembled at the thought of being stared on by his father let alone being scolded over something he should not be doing.
As he walked slowly towards them everyone was looking at him. Guruji asked him to come sit next to him and they all carried on with the singing and the occasional chatting. Soon Raja was fast asleep to the tunes that Guruji played.
This first day that Guruji stayed with the family was fairly uneventful but it always held a special place in Guruji’s heart and in Raja’s as the both of them would remember that day forever. The meeting of the apprentice with the master was indeed a moment to cherish for both of them had somehow longed their entire lives to be able to look at each other this way.
Raja started to follow Guruji everywhere. During the duration of his stay he did not even once leave Guruji’s side. He was always carrying things around for him. Even if it were the smallest most insignificant object Raja would carry it and walk behind Guruji. Even Guruji who was usually a reserved person who attended to all his wares himself did not object to Raja following him around. It was as if he had already developed a deep liking for this child who was to be one of the great students of this mystical musical maestro.
People had often said that during the peaks of his practice sessions Guruji would reach immensely close to God and that he had some powers of clairvoyance which was not new among masters of music. The mystical Sufi saints who travelled the world and sang their tunes to people had also known to have mysterious linkages with the unknown. That night Guruji had a dream where his master an unknown aesthetic who had studied music in the isolation of the mountains came to him and simply told him to hang on to the boy that was so casually sleeping right beside him. Guruji attempted to ask his revered teacher as to the reason behind his words but he vanished.
The first time Guruji asked Raja question about music, he could see the light in his eyes as if he had been waiting all his life to tell someone how much he liked music and how it would make him feel. Guruji was in fact startled by his response which was a lot more thoughtful than he had ever imagined. A nine year old with very little knowhow about music answering in a grand manner was unforeseen even by this great master.
Guruji asked, “Raja, how does music make you feel?”
In that instant it was as if Raja had been awakened into his real self. While most people wait a lifetime to find themselves, Raja had glimpsed into himself countless number of times. Every time he heard some music playing, his soul would shudder and his heart would race.
He told Guruji, “Every time I listen to music, my heart begins to go faster, my eyes are suddenly wider and my ears go sharp. I can her every sound coming from the music. I love the way in which it makes me feel like I am floating like a log does in the river. I feel like a leaf that flies from the tree and goes far away. I feel like the mare running as fast as the wind in the open fields. Guruji, I just love the way it makes me feel. Will you please teach me more about this wonderful language? Will you please take me with you when you go and teach me please?? “When he said this, he already had tears in his eyes and Guruji too had started to see his glands water. it was rare even for Guruji to hear of such things from an adult, let alone a child of only 9.
Raja had always pictured himself even as a child that he wanted to become a musician. He had known no greater joy than the joy he would get when he would listen to virtually any kind of music was immeasurable for him. His grandfather would play the Sarangi on occasion and the melody would take Raja into another world. Right from the day he first started speaking, he always wanted music around him. His mother would sing him to sleep and sing to him when she bathed him in the cold waters. He would ask his elder sisters, all 7 of them, to sing him songs that they knew. He wanted more and more of music when he heard it and he would tire everyone out in the family.
His father noticed that he had a keen sense of music and a thirst for it. One day, Raja returned after playing in the fields to find a strange old man with a smile on his face talking to his father and grandfather. What he did not know was that he was a well known scholar, traveler and teacher. He had travelled the world and had with him books and what not from all parts of the world. He was called Guriji by everyone. He was initially scared to approach this old man. He had long hair and wore a robe that dwellers and holy men would wear. His smile had something amazing about him and he was always smiling. Raja heard his father say that he would be staying with them for a few months. Strangely he was happy when he heard that. Being the youngest of the family, he was not encouraged to join adults in their conversation unless called to join in so. He was peeking in from the corner when Guruji smiled at him and called him. Knowing not what to do, Raja hid himself but the old man came to him and offered him a hand.
He held the old man’s hand, he smile back to him and said,” Hello, Raja, I’m Vivek, would you like to come sit on my lap. “ Raja had always thought of himself as an adult and he replied quickly, “no, Guruji, I will sit on the floor.”
This small conversation made Raja immensely happy. He felt like he knew the man and that they would be good friends. He was glad that Guruji would stay and also in some corner of his mind, he was excited. He did not know why at that moment. Guruji shifted his focus from the conversation to him and asked him what he liked, MUSIC!! Was his answer in the blink of an eye. It was as if he was waiting to be asked.
The elders talked a little more about how things were changing and teaching children was becoming a problem as most of the ashrams had been dissolved because of the war. Soon it was time for dinner and the proceeded downstairs to the kitchen. Raja was sent to bed with his younger brothers but he could not sleep, for some reason he thought he heard music playing and singing. He decided to check things out so he slipped into the shadows and walked in the dark towards the lawn. The lawn was the place where adults gathered, talked, drank and on occasion sang as they sat around the fire.
Raja hid himself behind a sack of dried leaves that were kept next to the kitchen door. He was immediately noticed by Guruji and he called out to him. He was scared as children was not supposed to be at an adults gathering. He trembled at the thought of being stared on by his father let alone being scolded over something he should not be doing.
As he walked slowly towards them everyone was looking at him. Guruji asked him to come sit next to him and they all carried on with the singing and the occasional chatting. Soon Raja was fast asleep to the tunes that Guruji played.
This first day that Guruji stayed with the family was fairly uneventful but it always held a special place in Guruji’s heart and in Raja’s as the both of them would remember that day forever. The meeting of the apprentice with the master was indeed a moment to cherish for both of them had somehow longed their entire lives to be able to look at each other this way.
Raja started to follow Guruji everywhere. During the duration of his stay he did not even once leave Guruji’s side. He was always carrying things around for him. Even if it were the smallest most insignificant object Raja would carry it and walk behind Guruji. Even Guruji who was usually a reserved person who attended to all his wares himself did not object to Raja following him around. It was as if he had already developed a deep liking for this child who was to be one of the great students of this mystical musical maestro.
People had often said that during the peaks of his practice sessions Guruji would reach immensely close to God and that he had some powers of clairvoyance which was not new among masters of music. The mystical Sufi saints who travelled the world and sang their tunes to people had also known to have mysterious linkages with the unknown. That night Guruji had a dream where his master an unknown aesthetic who had studied music in the isolation of the mountains came to him and simply told him to hang on to the boy that was so casually sleeping right beside him. Guruji attempted to ask his revered teacher as to the reason behind his words but he vanished.
The first time Guruji asked Raja question about music, he could see the light in his eyes as if he had been waiting all his life to tell someone how much he liked music and how it would make him feel. Guruji was in fact startled by his response which was a lot more thoughtful than he had ever imagined. A nine year old with very little knowhow about music answering in a grand manner was unforeseen even by this great master.
Guruji asked, “Raja, how does music make you feel?”
In that instant it was as if Raja had been awakened into his real self. While most people wait a lifetime to find themselves, Raja had glimpsed into himself countless number of times. Every time he heard some music playing, his soul would shudder and his heart would race.
He told Guruji, “Every time I listen to music, my heart begins to go faster, my eyes are suddenly wider and my ears go sharp. I can her every sound coming from the music. I love the way in which it makes me feel like I am floating like a log does in the river. I feel like a leaf that flies from the tree and goes far away. I feel like the mare running as fast as the wind in the open fields. Guruji, I just love the way it makes me feel. Will you please teach me more about this wonderful language? Will you please take me with you when you go and teach me please?? “When he said this, he already had tears in his eyes and Guruji too had started to see his glands water. it was rare even for Guruji to hear of such things from an adult, let alone a child of only 9.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Deranged to deliver...
This Virulent Cancerous Rage
Inducing Autosarcophagy Within
Ravaged Soul Burns n Rots
Expurgated Toxins Spurting from this Deathgrip
Dementia by Decay n Despair
Deranged to Kill, Killing is done,
Deranged to Suffer, Till Suffering is none,
Deranged to Deliver Perpetual Detriment
Lacerating, Severing, Dismembering
Killing in Scores, Killing in Hordes
Bloodlust leading to Frenzy
The Sanguineous Decay Festering
Bestial Wrath, Killing Frolic
To Exterminate
Deranged to Kill, Killing is done,
Deranged to Suffer, Till Suffering is none,
Deranged to Deliver Perpetual Detriment
This Cadaveric Entity Craves Flesh
Lusts to Feel the Terror
Slit by Slit, Knife by Knife
Puss and Vomit and Blood Boils
Mortally Embodied Slaughter
Maligning the Mind into Killing Another
Another and yet Another
Deranged to Kill, Killing is done,
Deranged to Suffer, Till Suffering is none,
Deranged to Deliver Perpetual Detriment
Inducing Autosarcophagy Within
Ravaged Soul Burns n Rots
Expurgated Toxins Spurting from this Deathgrip
Dementia by Decay n Despair
Deranged to Kill, Killing is done,
Deranged to Suffer, Till Suffering is none,
Deranged to Deliver Perpetual Detriment
Lacerating, Severing, Dismembering
Killing in Scores, Killing in Hordes
Bloodlust leading to Frenzy
The Sanguineous Decay Festering
Bestial Wrath, Killing Frolic
To Exterminate
Deranged to Kill, Killing is done,
Deranged to Suffer, Till Suffering is none,
Deranged to Deliver Perpetual Detriment
This Cadaveric Entity Craves Flesh
Lusts to Feel the Terror
Slit by Slit, Knife by Knife
Puss and Vomit and Blood Boils
Mortally Embodied Slaughter
Maligning the Mind into Killing Another
Another and yet Another
Deranged to Kill, Killing is done,
Deranged to Suffer, Till Suffering is none,
Deranged to Deliver Perpetual Detriment
Monday, December 19, 2011
unlikely killer
When he came back to his senses, it was already too late. He had already lost it and done some major damage. He ran. He ran like he had never run before in his life. The noises and the sounds all seemed to be following him. Everyone it seemed was looking at him. Out of breath and exhausted he managed to find a quiet place amidst the ever noisy city. He had never noticed before today that the city he lived in made so much noise. At this hour when even the hellions would rest themselves, he walked the noisily silent halls of a church. Stained and dripping with blood from his own body and the skulls that he so easily managed to crush in his fit of rage, he finally collapsed near the altar.
He couldn’t sleep. The broken faces of the people in his dream kept haunting him. He knew them all, they were all his friends. People he had grown up with. He did not know how to hide from them. As he scampered endlessly he realized that he had been in this dream for many days. He was always in the same dream when he woke up. Somehow the church at one of the worst places in town ended up giving him refuge.
He thought about the first time that he had killed. He loved the feeling so much that he couldn’t wait to do it again. He couldn’t wait for someone to piss him off again so he could cut them into small pieces as he had done his best friend. He felt back then that it was his ultimate release. He did not have to run because he was never caught. Nobody would dream of thinking that the most gruesome murders in the history of humanity which had plagued his home city for more than 15 years had been committed by him. He was the most unlikely of all the people capable of committing such heinous acts.
He was asleep again seeing the faces of those he killed. Somehow the pleasure had never faded even as his mind grew; he knew that it was not a right thing to do. The killing gave him a liberation that he could neither escape nor deny. He felt like he was made for cutting people up with his bare nails and claws. He felt like it was justice against what he had been born as. A lowly troll who knew no love, no companionship nor did he know any other thing that normal people seemed to know. He did know one thing, he knew how to kill.
He was quick and there was no denying the fact that he was clever. He had always somehow felt like there was a shadow guiding him and telling him what to do. What his crude brain could not make out was that it was his deep inner voice that told him to kill and taste the blood of his victims. He would purposefully hang around places where there would be a lot of people. He would somehow befriend some of them and some of them were just unlucky that they chose him to be the object of their taunts and fun. He could change within a matter of minutes from a harmless and dirty troll to a monster that most people could not keep up with. The only person that had ever resisted him so much was his mother who had taken off his arm and his leg. At the age of 5 when he first started showing signs of his monstrous interior, his mother had attempted to calm one of his fits of rage. He had taken off the heads of all the cats (as many as nine) in his neighbourhood and managed to hang them outside his home.
His parents were horrified and it caused a mass outrage in the community. People came with an intent to burn the family down but his mother saved him saying that she would lock him up indoors and instutionalize him when he could be. His mother locked him in their basement. A dark, leaky and dusky room which had the perfect environment for the vile in him to feed upon and grow into a killer like the world had never known.
The best parts about his killings were that he had never left behind any proof. No eyewitnesses and no physical evidence of any kind.
One can say that he had a talent for finding people who would eventually have nowhere to run. He was a hunter in every sense but he did not hunt to eat. Rarely did he eat any flesh but he did drink a lot of blood from his victims. His early onslaughts on the city and its people had people fear that there was a blood thirsty animal running wild in the city. The rumours had gone so far as to saying that there was a werewolf in the city.
He was used to the feeling of taking a life with his bare hands. Not only was he good at it but he was also in many ways addicted to that feeling. To him in his mind, it was one of the rare things of beauty left in a world that had been so cruel to him. But it was different this time around. He felt different. It was a miserable feeling unlike any that he had known. He had heard an old man say that the spirits of the people you kill remain with you for a certain period of time and that is what he felt at the moment.
His ears were constantly ringing with their squirms and screams. He was seeing their faces every time he closed his eyes. It was the same sensation that he had lived with for so long but now it felt as if the noises and the faces of the people were there with him to stay and it was slowly taking over his mind. He felt restless even after sleeping for so long. His sleep was full of nightmares which he had once enjoyed a lot. Since he could not talk to anyone about it, he was all the more uneasy. For the first time in his life, he was scared of himself and what he had become. He wanted out but there was no out for him anymore. It was tragic for him because killing was all he had done in his life and now with every kill he was getting weaker. His hands had not stopped shaking since he had killed the old lady who lived at the end of the street he lived in. surprisingly she had put up quite a fight against him and he nearly had to bite her neck off completely. It wasn’t just that but she said something to him which he could not make out. It troubled him even now. Weeks later after the old lady had died; he was unable to forget her face. Not that he could forget any of those bloody faces, still her face haunted him the most.
Something was changing and he did not like it. But he was also helpless against this as he was clueless as to what was happening. His mind was playing many different tricks on him at the same time and he was unable to understand how suddenly things had changed so much. Little did he know that things had started to take its course towards something much more horrible than he had ever known before in his life.
He couldn’t sleep. The broken faces of the people in his dream kept haunting him. He knew them all, they were all his friends. People he had grown up with. He did not know how to hide from them. As he scampered endlessly he realized that he had been in this dream for many days. He was always in the same dream when he woke up. Somehow the church at one of the worst places in town ended up giving him refuge.
He thought about the first time that he had killed. He loved the feeling so much that he couldn’t wait to do it again. He couldn’t wait for someone to piss him off again so he could cut them into small pieces as he had done his best friend. He felt back then that it was his ultimate release. He did not have to run because he was never caught. Nobody would dream of thinking that the most gruesome murders in the history of humanity which had plagued his home city for more than 15 years had been committed by him. He was the most unlikely of all the people capable of committing such heinous acts.
He was asleep again seeing the faces of those he killed. Somehow the pleasure had never faded even as his mind grew; he knew that it was not a right thing to do. The killing gave him a liberation that he could neither escape nor deny. He felt like he was made for cutting people up with his bare nails and claws. He felt like it was justice against what he had been born as. A lowly troll who knew no love, no companionship nor did he know any other thing that normal people seemed to know. He did know one thing, he knew how to kill.
He was quick and there was no denying the fact that he was clever. He had always somehow felt like there was a shadow guiding him and telling him what to do. What his crude brain could not make out was that it was his deep inner voice that told him to kill and taste the blood of his victims. He would purposefully hang around places where there would be a lot of people. He would somehow befriend some of them and some of them were just unlucky that they chose him to be the object of their taunts and fun. He could change within a matter of minutes from a harmless and dirty troll to a monster that most people could not keep up with. The only person that had ever resisted him so much was his mother who had taken off his arm and his leg. At the age of 5 when he first started showing signs of his monstrous interior, his mother had attempted to calm one of his fits of rage. He had taken off the heads of all the cats (as many as nine) in his neighbourhood and managed to hang them outside his home.
His parents were horrified and it caused a mass outrage in the community. People came with an intent to burn the family down but his mother saved him saying that she would lock him up indoors and instutionalize him when he could be. His mother locked him in their basement. A dark, leaky and dusky room which had the perfect environment for the vile in him to feed upon and grow into a killer like the world had never known.
The best parts about his killings were that he had never left behind any proof. No eyewitnesses and no physical evidence of any kind.
One can say that he had a talent for finding people who would eventually have nowhere to run. He was a hunter in every sense but he did not hunt to eat. Rarely did he eat any flesh but he did drink a lot of blood from his victims. His early onslaughts on the city and its people had people fear that there was a blood thirsty animal running wild in the city. The rumours had gone so far as to saying that there was a werewolf in the city.
He was used to the feeling of taking a life with his bare hands. Not only was he good at it but he was also in many ways addicted to that feeling. To him in his mind, it was one of the rare things of beauty left in a world that had been so cruel to him. But it was different this time around. He felt different. It was a miserable feeling unlike any that he had known. He had heard an old man say that the spirits of the people you kill remain with you for a certain period of time and that is what he felt at the moment.
His ears were constantly ringing with their squirms and screams. He was seeing their faces every time he closed his eyes. It was the same sensation that he had lived with for so long but now it felt as if the noises and the faces of the people were there with him to stay and it was slowly taking over his mind. He felt restless even after sleeping for so long. His sleep was full of nightmares which he had once enjoyed a lot. Since he could not talk to anyone about it, he was all the more uneasy. For the first time in his life, he was scared of himself and what he had become. He wanted out but there was no out for him anymore. It was tragic for him because killing was all he had done in his life and now with every kill he was getting weaker. His hands had not stopped shaking since he had killed the old lady who lived at the end of the street he lived in. surprisingly she had put up quite a fight against him and he nearly had to bite her neck off completely. It wasn’t just that but she said something to him which he could not make out. It troubled him even now. Weeks later after the old lady had died; he was unable to forget her face. Not that he could forget any of those bloody faces, still her face haunted him the most.
Something was changing and he did not like it. But he was also helpless against this as he was clueless as to what was happening. His mind was playing many different tricks on him at the same time and he was unable to understand how suddenly things had changed so much. Little did he know that things had started to take its course towards something much more horrible than he had ever known before in his life.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
cant
I can’t stand this separation,
It kills me a little every day, to be away
I can’t keep my sanity,
I go a little mad every day, to be this way
I can’t understand,
Why I have to be away from you
Why it won’t be over soon
I can’t wait,
Wish I could tear apart the distance
And hold you in every instance
I can’t live without you
You are my everything
Without you everything is nothing…
It kills me a little every day, to be away
I can’t keep my sanity,
I go a little mad every day, to be this way
I can’t understand,
Why I have to be away from you
Why it won’t be over soon
I can’t wait,
Wish I could tear apart the distance
And hold you in every instance
I can’t live without you
You are my everything
Without you everything is nothing…
Friday, August 19, 2011
it
It runs in my soul
It flows in my veins
It drives me insane
Grows in some corner
Till there is no structure left
It gives me hope
It helps me cope
It carries me along
As the nights get darker
The light gets brighter
I couldn’t imagine
What life would be
A dream without any sleep
It flows in my veins
It drives me insane
Grows in some corner
Till there is no structure left
It gives me hope
It helps me cope
It carries me along
As the nights get darker
The light gets brighter
I couldn’t imagine
What life would be
A dream without any sleep
Saturday, July 16, 2011
like a fresh new
like a fresh new wave
on a dying winter's night
the dawn bringing the rain
i wish to dance
forget all cares
and sit there in a trance
like a fresh new feeling
but still so old and known
and here i am still reeling
i wish to get intoxicated
with what i once was
and i sit with my gaze fixated
like a fresh new day
that i just hope
that now it gets to stay
on a dying winter's night
the dawn bringing the rain
i wish to dance
forget all cares
and sit there in a trance
like a fresh new feeling
but still so old and known
and here i am still reeling
i wish to get intoxicated
with what i once was
and i sit with my gaze fixated
like a fresh new day
that i just hope
that now it gets to stay
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
i forget that i am
i look onto your face
in the gleam of the dim light
the pain is gone and the world is obscured
i touch ever so gently
shifting you onto my side
a small soft kiss on your head
i sit beside through night and day
your hands in mine
time seems such a crime
you flinch and i tremble
i forget that i am
in the gleam of the dim light
the pain is gone and the world is obscured
i touch ever so gently
shifting you onto my side
a small soft kiss on your head
i sit beside through night and day
your hands in mine
time seems such a crime
you flinch and i tremble
i forget that i am
nailed to the walls
nailed to the walls through the heart
still undead, to suffer in the calm
the malignancy spreading through the brain
looking into a bottomless pit
seeing a reflection in the gloom
the despair seen in the void
beyond the darkest dimensions
it breeds in my soul
nothing left to endure
still undead, to suffer in the calm
the malignancy spreading through the brain
looking into a bottomless pit
seeing a reflection in the gloom
the despair seen in the void
beyond the darkest dimensions
it breeds in my soul
nothing left to endure
Sunday, February 20, 2011
dire
How torn and tattered could it be??
This vast unforgiving canvas has taken its toll on me…
I have been the one to take part and I was the one who faltered…
Why has this abyss closed in?
This pain too much to take even as I dream…
In irrelevance I loathe simply counting it all down…
What can I do?
I wish hadn’t done so much…
Tomorrow looks bleak suddenly and still I try…
This vast unforgiving canvas has taken its toll on me…
I have been the one to take part and I was the one who faltered…
Why has this abyss closed in?
This pain too much to take even as I dream…
In irrelevance I loathe simply counting it all down…
What can I do?
I wish hadn’t done so much…
Tomorrow looks bleak suddenly and still I try…
Thursday, December 23, 2010
n i for i
The slow ticking clock in the silence
A basic fact of life itself
Somehow doesn’t really have any significance
An astral view of the life and the love
Where have I come to stand today
A roadside market of cosmetics and clothes
Why does it want to scream
A dirty shambled place going to the dogs
A downhill street of bars and inns
Is this real or is this real
Who can know but for I
Who cannot but for I
All of this only for I
A basic fact of life itself
Somehow doesn’t really have any significance
An astral view of the life and the love
Where have I come to stand today
A roadside market of cosmetics and clothes
Why does it want to scream
A dirty shambled place going to the dogs
A downhill street of bars and inns
Is this real or is this real
Who can know but for I
Who cannot but for I
All of this only for I
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
the face of today...
In shambles this world thaws away
Ignorance and piety free and far
The bodies hung up on trees sway
Lunged shadows from a tainted star
The loss of love and the loss of innocence
A slow and painful demise setting in
Rotting away at its own fateful expense
Such a world left to our kin…
Truth is a distant and alien concept
Divided and twisted to convenience
Empty hollow words lacking depth
A slave to its own obvious decadence
Heavily disguised in plasticity
The decline slow and tormenting
Is there only me who sees this lunacy
Is it only me who stands alone lamenting…
Is this the today that we leave behind for tomorrow
Is this the face of our today
Vast Oceans of hate, deceit and sorrow
All leading to another dark and empty day...
Ignorance and piety free and far
The bodies hung up on trees sway
Lunged shadows from a tainted star
The loss of love and the loss of innocence
A slow and painful demise setting in
Rotting away at its own fateful expense
Such a world left to our kin…
Truth is a distant and alien concept
Divided and twisted to convenience
Empty hollow words lacking depth
A slave to its own obvious decadence
Heavily disguised in plasticity
The decline slow and tormenting
Is there only me who sees this lunacy
Is it only me who stands alone lamenting…
Is this the today that we leave behind for tomorrow
Is this the face of our today
Vast Oceans of hate, deceit and sorrow
All leading to another dark and empty day...
Monday, November 08, 2010
home ...
For the first time in years
I really miss the cold floors
I miss the rain affected corners
I miss the webs and the spiders under my books
The slippery paths that would lead to a hideout
The muddy slippers and the broken umbrellas
Sunshine in the morning and sunshine in the afternoon
The blanket of fog replaced by wool
The night sky and the fires out in the woods
The warm noodles and the soup
Spirits sneaked and gulped down in a hurry
And then the panic and the flurry
This is strange how I miss it
My ways wayward as always
And I miss the aromas
Those float in and out as you roam
The air itself a different tint
Streams pull up their covers
The blanket is stored only to come soon
The doors creaky and stuck to be unstuck
Wet mats and a collection of shoes and sandals and slippers
A warm cup of tea brewed with a couple of cookies served
Sung again in the blanket…
Here a thousand miles away I dream
I really miss the cold floors
I miss the rain affected corners
I miss the webs and the spiders under my books
The slippery paths that would lead to a hideout
The muddy slippers and the broken umbrellas
Sunshine in the morning and sunshine in the afternoon
The blanket of fog replaced by wool
The night sky and the fires out in the woods
The warm noodles and the soup
Spirits sneaked and gulped down in a hurry
And then the panic and the flurry
This is strange how I miss it
My ways wayward as always
And I miss the aromas
Those float in and out as you roam
The air itself a different tint
Streams pull up their covers
The blanket is stored only to come soon
The doors creaky and stuck to be unstuck
Wet mats and a collection of shoes and sandals and slippers
A warm cup of tea brewed with a couple of cookies served
Sung again in the blanket…
Here a thousand miles away I dream
Monday, October 25, 2010
life is funny...
If I were a coward, I’d be dead by now
But I still go on living, I wonder how
To find the one thing
That took my entire being
For years and years I had wondered
Scoured the wastelands and seek and pondered
Finally when I find, what I thought I could not find
I fall and I find…
So far below, my screams fade
As I plummet into an abyss, self made
Now I laugh at life itself
And know that I can never face myself
For I have found something I always searched
And lost the thing that I always had
But I still go on living, I wonder how
To find the one thing
That took my entire being
For years and years I had wondered
Scoured the wastelands and seek and pondered
Finally when I find, what I thought I could not find
I fall and I find…
So far below, my screams fade
As I plummet into an abyss, self made
Now I laugh at life itself
And know that I can never face myself
For I have found something I always searched
And lost the thing that I always had
Saturday, October 23, 2010
like ive been here...
To say that the dream is no more
Just feels like ive been here before
This strange affliction that worsens
As I try and jump over the yellow fence
Still I cannot sleep in peace
Counting the days to the end of it all
For the dream is no more
Just feels like Ive been here before
The same old drab
The distant echoes and the distancing pictures
Fading slowly away in memory
The same old pain
Eating me away again
For the dream is no more
Like ive been here before
Just feels like ive been here before
This strange affliction that worsens
As I try and jump over the yellow fence
Still I cannot sleep in peace
Counting the days to the end of it all
For the dream is no more
Just feels like Ive been here before
The same old drab
The distant echoes and the distancing pictures
Fading slowly away in memory
The same old pain
Eating me away again
For the dream is no more
Like ive been here before
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
you give me reason
You give me reason…
You give me reason to open my eyes every morning…
Just so I can see you again…
You give me reason…
You give me reason to believe in life…
That what is mine is now yours
You give me reason…
You give me reason to breathe…
Just so I can breathe into you
You give me reason…
You give me reason to dream every night…
And go on despite this pain…
You give me reason to open my eyes every morning…
Just so I can see you again…
You give me reason…
You give me reason to believe in life…
That what is mine is now yours
You give me reason…
You give me reason to breathe…
Just so I can breathe into you
You give me reason…
You give me reason to dream every night…
And go on despite this pain…
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
a canopy's lament
sweet smelling grass
pristine and radiant
gleaming in the breaking sunlight
overflowing paths, refreshed
gravel and mud everywhere
and still washing away the dirt
flavors rich of tea in the air
moist earth, a window and a chair
among the harmony, another note
the clouds fight
breaking in self destruction
sparks sent down to the ground
as everything around dances
lovers exchange glances
fading into the descending fog
tucked in under the covers
deep in sleep
dreaming dreams of orchestras
a repainted picture
the sun shines through
oh rain!! oh rain!! please do come soon... soon again!!
pristine and radiant
gleaming in the breaking sunlight
overflowing paths, refreshed
gravel and mud everywhere
and still washing away the dirt
flavors rich of tea in the air
moist earth, a window and a chair
among the harmony, another note
the clouds fight
breaking in self destruction
sparks sent down to the ground
as everything around dances
lovers exchange glances
fading into the descending fog
tucked in under the covers
deep in sleep
dreaming dreams of orchestras
a repainted picture
the sun shines through
oh rain!! oh rain!! please do come soon... soon again!!
Sunday, May 09, 2010
as in your worship i abandoned nights
since eternity was composed as a symphony
the world as it crumbled around me...
one night i settled to dream
as the breeze slowly went by
the open windows let it pass
i felt a brush, a chill and a spark
the dawn a daily companion
to my silent whisper
a final tryst to reach out
touch your hand...
the grime and the filth scratched
my nails bloody and yes the pleasure
i awake everyday tied and bound
with a ball of lead for good measure
dragging myself through nights of insomnia
a binge carried way too far
into an engulfing state of amnesia
wishing i could lose this sleep
the crudeness lost
such a beauty then obscured
and so is the life of a hapless being
only glimpses through the blackened screens
in your worship i abandoned nights
since eternity was composed as a symphony
the world as it grew around me
since eternity was composed as a symphony
the world as it crumbled around me...
one night i settled to dream
as the breeze slowly went by
the open windows let it pass
i felt a brush, a chill and a spark
the dawn a daily companion
to my silent whisper
a final tryst to reach out
touch your hand...
the grime and the filth scratched
my nails bloody and yes the pleasure
i awake everyday tied and bound
with a ball of lead for good measure
dragging myself through nights of insomnia
a binge carried way too far
into an engulfing state of amnesia
wishing i could lose this sleep
the crudeness lost
such a beauty then obscured
and so is the life of a hapless being
only glimpses through the blackened screens
in your worship i abandoned nights
since eternity was composed as a symphony
the world as it grew around me
Thursday, April 15, 2010
liberate me
liberate me from life
i wish to remain forever
in sounds and in sights
through the blackened moonless nights...
liberate me from strife
i wish to only be free
even if i have but to bleed
through this sickening endless greed
liberate me from death
for i know by now
blood washes away the sweat
and the rain washes away blood
liberate me from me
draw into the stream unending
to float across space and time
all the way down to the mouth of the sea
i wish to remain forever
in sounds and in sights
through the blackened moonless nights...
liberate me from strife
i wish to only be free
even if i have but to bleed
through this sickening endless greed
liberate me from death
for i know by now
blood washes away the sweat
and the rain washes away blood
liberate me from me
draw into the stream unending
to float across space and time
all the way down to the mouth of the sea
Saturday, April 10, 2010
as i
to sit here and repeatedly inquire
why love has flickered to a slow demise
as life stands in peril
we still squander beyond what we require
to moat and linger without a purpose
is what we should really do
but life is too serious or so we suppose
and do what we are told
to wonder why we wonder why
Ive wondered and pondered
but all i get is the big blue sky
and not all birds can soar the heavens
to live life without a goal
for the ultimate journey ought to be one
even for a charred piece of coal
all but one and the same
why love has flickered to a slow demise
as life stands in peril
we still squander beyond what we require
to moat and linger without a purpose
is what we should really do
but life is too serious or so we suppose
and do what we are told
to wonder why we wonder why
Ive wondered and pondered
but all i get is the big blue sky
and not all birds can soar the heavens
to live life without a goal
for the ultimate journey ought to be one
even for a charred piece of coal
all but one and the same
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