Almost

Entanglement

2012-01-18T10:54:00.000-08:00

Half hearted warmth of the radiator,
And a little bit of cheap whiskey,
And forest spirits and plywood gods
Huddled in my room.

And scattered things on the floor,
Infected with love and confusion.
Entanglement can be a beautiful and terrible thing.

Entwined

2012-01-01T05:29:00.000-08:00

You make art to say things. Do not make art to say things. Just say things, and choose your medium well. Words certainly are a dangerous craft, and paints obfuscate things far better. Well, technically, all of us know the spectrum of responses that you have. Do not gloat in your pain- remember that you play to an audience of beggars, soldiers, and lepers.

You make art out of love. Do not make art out of love. Just love, and choose your lovers well. Love is certainly a dangerous craft, and sex obfuscates things far better. Well, technically, all of us know the spectrum of responses that you have. Do not gloat in your loneliness - remember that there is no audience, only beggars, soldiers, and lepers.

It is, by the way of example, raining now. The rain is making the cold colder, and my disease is making the chill bitter. Yet, there have been other times when this would have been a cause of celebration. These things do not matter. If you want to speak of rain, just say that it is raining. Just say that the rain is cold. We will know. We have always known.

It has, by the way of example, stopped raining now. But the cold remains colder, like traces of red around your eyes after your disease has left you. The rain has stopped and we forgot to celebrate. These things do matter. If you want to speak of rain, speak before the rain stops. Say that it is raining. Feel the cold rain on your feverish fingertips. And then you will know, you will remember, that it has always rained.

There is no need to invent things, to make art and poetry. There is no need to have sigils, for things. Things are sigils. Sigils take away from things that are, and things that will be. By the way of example, a cigarette is a cigarette, and a burning life is a burning life. If you want to speak of the burning life, speak of the burning, the life, and the burning life. Do not speak romantically of the cigarette. We shall then laugh at you, and mock you. If you, instead, speak of the burning, the life, and the burning life, we shall not laugh. We shall be silent, and we shall contemplate. We shall make room for you amongst us, in the gallery. We shall make room for you in our arms.

Things cannot be invented, art cannot be made. Everything forever lies in silence, hidden, for you to find them. Everything is but a sigil. Everything already is, already has been, and will happen again. By way of example, there is no such thing as a cigarette that does not burn, there is no need here for a life that does not burn. Everything, therefore, burns. Romance the burning, and no one will laugh at you. Some may mock silently; others will contemplate. We will find room for you amongst us in the streets. We shall lie naked, needled, nestled in newspaper beds, and make wild love every night.

__________
Written with Sikaan Derouge.

His damages available at: http://redrush.blogspot.com/

Solstice

2011-12-27T20:50:00.000-08:00

Let us bring out the fine cutlery
And feast like spring is just around the corner.
Do not speak to me of happiness and such fragile things.
Tell me tales of wine, and flesh, and of days when the dark goddesses
Poured forth their infinite mercies
By the way of flies and vermin.

Let us pour ourselves a goblet of music
And feast like spring is just around the corner.
Do not speak at all, baby girl, do not speak at all.
Do unto me like they did in Vienna, or perhaps in Benares;
Twisting, turning, bodies, highways
By the way of human hives.

Beastly Things

2011-12-23T00:26:00.000-08:00

The mind seeks comfort of familiarty,
Then, pines for new things
And tries to resolve blur,
And then tries skew lines into blurbs.

The mind is a funny thing,
Suspended in body, around soul.
The heart, on the other hand,
Is brutal.

Feast

2011-12-10T05:02:00.001-08:00

Divided between sense and nonsense- each takes its share
Mixed amounts of love and dissonance,
Comfort and despair.

I found this lovely little girl, who made art and music
And loved these strange men.
Sometimes shiny, sometimes pretty, sometimes wild.

Having parted ways with sense, and having lost her music
And her heart having uncoiled like a wyrm,
Travelling through body and soul,
Sometimes feeding,
She left.

Similar creatures find each other,
Like spiders sometimes build webs collaboratively.
But sometimes wyrms are just glad
To have flesh to feed on,
And darkness to keep themselves moist.

Splinter

2011-11-29T11:14:00.001-08:00

We're at war.
We're at war with ourselves, with spaces
Walls and floors and walls and floors
Crawling, always crawling,
Never steady,
Never gone.

We're at war,
We're at war with ourselves, with spaces
Desire and soil and desire and soil
Crawling, always crawling,
Never steady,
Never gone.

A Hundred Autumns

2011-06-26T19:16:00.000-07:00

I know my heart was unsure then

I know my heart was weak

It has been a hundred autumns now

A hundred odd defeats

But you loved me with your secret love

Till the thorns they bled your feet

It has been a hundred autumns now

A hundred odd defeats

Breaking sounds are muffled in

The winter of the town

The price is paid in skin and blood

The price goes up and down

Life is lived in colour

And greys of black and white

Life is lived in lonesome days

And quiet, lonesome nights

It matters not how we shall meet

In story or in song

The world it sings, the world it stings

The righteous and the wrong

But you loved me with your secret love

Till the thorns they bled you feet

It has been a hundred autumns now

A hundred odd defeats

I know my heart was unsure then

I know my heart was weak

It has been a hundred autumns now

A hundred odd defeats

The First Song of Whisky

2011-05-22T14:28:00.000-07:00

Peace, whisky and chaos

Slowly leach away life and death,

Like the rose

Slowly feeds on earth

To make and unmake thorns.

Songs and cigarettes

Make a stranger city strange.

Drop by drop and drop by drop;

Blood, it births a stream.

Breath and skin and hair and bones;

Heart, it makes a dream.

Bait

2011-03-28T12:30:00.000-07:00

Little mouse devoid of cheese,

What do know of things like these?

You do not know of brown eyed cows

Or goats or milking machines, now.

Here now, have this little bit;

I'm fairly sure you will savour it

Until that spring there goes snap.

Ha! Now I have you in my trap.

Little vermin, you little mouse

Don't infest my lovely house;

Wrapped in marble, packed with lime

And so on, but you're out of time.

Broken neck and broken back,

Your mousey tricks now painted black.

Really now, I must chuck you out

Though the cheese was good, without a doubt.

Silver

2011-03-15T00:00:00.000-07:00

Today I raise my silver cup.
Of my years, one more is up.
Twenty four just slipped by me,
Today is the silver jubilee.

There was once a time when I said that
"I'm five and a half, not some little brat."
But now I go with "I'm twenty-ish".
If you're old enough, I'm sure you get this.

Catching Up

2010-11-03T15:57:00.000-07:00

Let us get a table, then
We're stuck here without much to do.
Let's wait in here while it rains;
You can learn me, and I can learn you.

You're twenty five, I'm thirty two
And it's a fine day, with rain and all.
We could leave, but I'd rather stay
And write our names on that yellow wall.

So it's done, then; let us have
With the wine, some fried meat
The weather's cold, the shop is old;
Stuck for ages beside this ageing street.

So, then, dear, tell me now,
How has life and such been with you.
As for myself, I think I'm done
With my work, I'm really through.

Last when I left the city,
They were making roads and building things.
You know, shops and malls and subway lines
And castles for the little kings.

Life hasn't been kind to you?
But I thought you said you liked it there
That was many years ago, but
I know things can get harsh and unfair.

Anyway, the food is good, and I think
I like the weather too.
The coolth is nice, and I think I should
Have some more wine, and so should you.

All the same, it's getting dark;
I think I still know where you stay.
After this let's walk back home;
I'll walk you down some of the way.

Film Grain

2010-06-07T11:24:00.000-07:00

In your darkest hour, I might not be able to light your lamp,
My fire is an ember, my matches are damp.
But I promise to hold you, through sense and nonsense
Till the sun, or some other star, violates optical silence.

Flake

2010-05-25T08:01:00.000-07:00

This could be a song,

But it needs more lines.

And some rhyme,

Meter,

And music.

Medusa

2010-05-16T12:41:00.000-07:00

All the art and all the paint,

And all the songs and such she sent;

We have kept tucked safe in there

And stuck a sign that says 'Beware!'

She is her who must be loved,

Bit by bit, through text and sound.

All the other young girls, they,

What do they know of the fire and ground?

Poet

2010-05-09T12:19:00.000-07:00

And then just to make things worse,
I'll talk one whole day just in verse.
That too, not in lines sublime,
Just cellotaped bits of rickety rhyme.

Speculation

2010-04-11T18:18:00.000-07:00

If you burn with me,
I think together, we can
Outshine the supernovae.

Rut

2010-04-08T12:31:00.000-07:00

All this conversation
Is headed nowhere.
An unnamed constellation
Of stars stuck in your hair.
Birds and I stare
Into the horizon.
What do I care
For your poison?

String Theory

2010-04-02T12:47:00.000-07:00

That is where the candle stood,
Flickering quietly on the wood.
And I was held, suspended in your thoughtbubbles,
A salve for you troubles.
Bodies stranded, divided in this space,
Bend like highways,
While others wait still, and stand apart
Waiting to take a sliver
Of your sliced up heart.

Old songs are sung,
Tales and words are strung.
All of them will,
Coalesce into an abstract other
While I grow blurrier, still.

Varnish

2010-03-13T13:11:00.000-08:00

What if
I fell in love with you
And badgered you with love poetry
And painted the walls blue
Just so that it would be nice
When you came over, worldweary,
Smelling of perfume and happiness?

Discommunion

2009-08-29T09:32:00.000-07:00

I walked down to the roadside shop
I lit a match, and lit a lamp.
The unrest in my bones was just
This uneasiness, old and damp.
So that is why I took my things
And set them sail on a paperboat
And slowly walked out of the shop,
And apotheosised on the nameless road.

Measured Out Moonlight

2009-05-29T07:54:00.000-07:00

The fever it creeps on the carpet,
And half the story's been told.
I run from these autumns, these torments;
I run from this burning cold.

The smoke it crawls like insects,
And this anklet, it slowly grows old.
These chains, oh these chains...
I run from this burning cold.

The veins, they have been frozen
And the ventricles are all half dead
And I, all I do is let this winter spread.

The walls, they have been painted
And the storms have been brewed tonight.
You take a sip of the clouds,
And it seems to be quite alright.

The lyre and violin are singing,
They know the quiet songs you hum;
While I sit in the corner,
And pour out a glass of warm rum.

The pillows and bullets have been chosen,
And sigils have been written and stained,
And I, all I do is let this spring be born again.

The fever it creeps on the carpet,
And in silence, it dreams a new rock.
The cold, it burns, it shelters;
And I, all I do is walk.

A More Watercolour Twilight

2009-04-20T12:13:00.000-07:00

These little bits of breath
That are stolen
And made into flux,
Struck with stars and hammers;
It is our hands, which shape them.
Our blood made into sweat,
And our earth made into life and death;
Slowly ferments into the fine strands
Of the real.

Once Upon a Place

2009-04-13T10:39:00.001-07:00

The smell of a somewhat sublime rhyme,

Of cologne and of brain,

Are smells which clutter my working desk,

And fog over my window pane.

This is now, and that was then;

The rewindstories time and again,

The Once Upon a Place where and when

I was young, and shaped.

Once upon a place, I lived and sang,

Once upon a place, I slept.

With workflow diagrams,

Pebbles and twigs,

Those memories I have kept.

Some

2009-04-01T12:59:00.000-07:00

Forevermore let this be known,

Of all those who live and die alone,

And leave fragile footprints in their stead,

Some have big hearts,

And as much head.

Degrees of Freedom

2009-03-10T07:21:00.000-07:00

The desk that is in disarray,
Fuels a scattered mind.
A frozen timeblur left behind.
The wall and gates that age away,
They divide the tinsel things.
They divide the world.
And such wings
We take.
Like birds,
Like insects.
In one more degree
Of freedom.

Urban Strangers

2009-03-06T10:57:00.000-08:00

The sky which is stretched polythene,
And stars and moon painted in the scene.
Cigarette smells wafting into the night,
Forming questions
That have been.

Zombies

2009-02-25T07:34:00.000-08:00

I have known happiness
In things otherwise valueless.
And while I worshipped intelligence
Like a zombie from a B-film
Which seeks to devour minds,
Summer days became summer nights,
With the breeze cool and comforting,
Like kindness of passing strangers.

And as I rejected the cerebral
For the human heart, when pressed to choice
In some terrible lovesong,
I have seen people and things become
And unbecome
Important.

Zombies are also a celebration
Of life, of moderation gone wrong.
A crude imitation of warmth,
In dying embers.
In living embers.

Spice City

2009-02-24T11:41:00.000-08:00

On evenings like those of fragrant spices
Cycle spokes and street dogs
Sound like a city being dreamt
Into real.
Into spacetime slices.

At midnight we drink orange halogen
And earth roads become concrete
Between now and then.

Stillborn

2009-01-19T13:09:00.000-08:00

Stillborn life
Has experienced no pain.
Only the idea of it.
Again, and again.

Other Junk

2009-01-17T14:26:00.000-08:00

Children throw away
Second chances
And other junk
Through the window.

Only to realize,
Much later,
That they probably shouldn't have
Let it go.

Reverie

2009-01-17T14:24:00.001-08:00

In my reverie,
I see things,
Big and undreamed of,
Otherwise.

Like perfect love,
Like happiness,
Like a world which drowns us out,
Like flies.

World

2009-01-12T12:36:00.000-08:00

In flames you consume yourself.

Blue, yellow.

Yet, World, I love you so.

Silence

2009-01-08T11:29:00.000-08:00

There is much to be said,
But every word takes away a bit, and adds something else
Every word adds
And changes.
Morphs and stretches.
These scribbles and sketches.

Be silent,
And silence shall speak.
And silence.

Paper Stars

2008-12-24T12:32:00.001-08:00

Paper stars and starry lights,
One of those city nights.
Lightrays rush to us.
Smoke feels like feeling.
Paper feels like supernovae,
Hanging from a coffeeshop ceiling.

Plimsoll Lines

2008-12-15T21:49:00.000-08:00

We row with oars in crimson ships
And watch where lies the plimsoll line;
Our ships can bear so much burden, still
Our hearts, they drown, yet they seem fine.

We row with oars our little dream boats;
And human hearts, they twist and turn.
The sun beats down on the deck;
The human sailors, they feel the burn.

Our ships they go, to far off seas
Where the earth and sky, they end.
Where winds are salty, throats are dry
And the heartbreak gull is the only friend.

Our ships, our little dreams they bear;
To comfort, to untarnished lands.
Where finally they they wipe their blood
And sleep in silence, in silent sands.

On reality, beauty and other imaginary things.

2008-11-29T11:56:00.000-08:00

Reality blooms
With its every fiber richly laden with possibility,
Bursting with the grain of existence and realization.

Shaped with pain, and held
With magic like that of human beings.
Forged into familiar shapes
And unfamiliar eddies.

Beauty remains, when
Transience loses its stasis.
Beauty remains, when
It is not wanted.

Outlines

2008-11-09T18:14:00.000-08:00

Sunshine cuts through darkness
And becomes meaning
And magic
On human skin
And other lifeless surfaces.

Dust makes the air sparkle
For a while.

The world breaks
And shatters.
The pieces cut people who seek
Shelter and comfort.

But magic and maladies,
They are the outlines.
Other things,
Spillage and pastels.

Life is wine, at the end.
Colour and texture.
Smell and flavour.
Anticipation.
The high.

And a forgotten hangover.

Wildflower

2008-10-22T23:56:00.001-07:00

Wildflower,
Born into this world.
Born of chaos and love;
Ignored in beauty and ugliness
Have you no mirror?
Your every thorn
I adorn with snowflakes
And blood.
Not every rain brings with it a storm.
So hold fast a bit more.
Wildflower,
You are no rose,
But a wanderer's heart knows
What pain pours forth your fragrance
Into this world
Of men and metals
Of plastic petals
So hold fast
Till the earth calls, again.
And through smoke, falls
Cold rain.

Starters

2008-08-03T13:25:00.000-07:00

You go out into the world,
And wait till they break your heart.
You stay there till they bleed you dry,
Then you go back to the start.

Well, sad tale, but you should've known
What's right and what is wrong.
You should have stayed, you should have said-
Won't you sing me another song?

Of Those Defeated In Their Victory

2008-03-09T15:56:00.000-07:00

Sing me a song now on this lonely night.
Sing me a song
Of how you were victorious
And right all along.
But now that you're there;
Now that it's complete,
Now you know how
Pain is sweeter in defeat.

Us

2008-01-14T09:31:00.000-08:00

Walking through life, you keep me sane
You're like the first drop of summer rain.
I know you have places to go
But girl, won't you take it slow?

We grew up together and just how
I see that you're a woman now.
I'm no li'll boy myself, I know
So where did all the good times go?

Words we shared and things we did,
Since the time when we were kids,
And after that the tears and pain;
And the walks down old small lanes.

Time goes by and we change fast.
But you and I make good times last.
We drifted away, we drifted far
Till each of us was a dying star.

And there was no Us.

After so much time,
At the coffee shop
I sat and wished that time would stop.
And I look at you,
My friend, my girl
A vision of loveliness.
Dark rivers of hair,
And graceful movements
Bring out the woman in you,
Unseen for ages.
Your eyes, they sparkle with joy.
And that sudden streak of mischief
Is that girl I knew from school
And your smile,
It makes me wonder,
My friend.
Good times...
Why do they end?
___

Written for a very old, very dear friend.

Under a Tree

2007-12-29T10:58:00.000-08:00

Sing me a sad song, li'll girl
And I'll sit beside you forever.
I have nowhere to go anyway
I can't read maps, I ain't clever.
Sing me a sad song, li'll girl
Maybe I'll shed a tear or two,
Or look at falling leaves.
But I promise I'll make it up to you.
I'll sit beside you,
Dusty jeans and all,
And mend my broken shoe.
As slowly Autumn leaves fall
I'll light a candle for you;
So that you can read your slow, sad song-
A song about a time
When songs were merry with mirth and rhyme
And a few shades less of blue.
A song about how those days
Got lost along my dusty ways.
It's everybody's song, and not just mine;
It's everyone's somewhere down the line...
And it's your song too.
As you slowly play your slow, sad tune
I'll mend my broken shoe;
For shoes can be fixed when they break
But not people,
Like me or you.

Wintertale

2007-11-27T10:45:00.000-08:00

Dampened sunshine
Trickles through broken window panes
And rests itself lazily
On rusted grilles and dusty blankets.

Smoke and dust
Curl and play in the frosty air
Morning sounds of a hard place
Share space with human restlessness.

A few good thoughts
Of even fewer good men
Become wrinkles on meaningless paper.

While here and there
Threads of memories
And hopes of a better world
Stay and live passively
Like old cobwebs
Which do not glisten
Even in the sun.

Ships Set Sail

2007-11-12T10:45:00.000-08:00

Orange coloured streaks in the sky.Shades of orange burn up my eyes.Orange ash for me and for you.E'en yesterday the sky was still blue.All just wentIn a snap.
Dreams of colours and of greys.Real, hard sweatworked Sundays.Now all but the wrappers are gone.The walls they all crumbled at dawn.They were mine,But now they're gone.
One, two;Everything that was hereRight here,Is no more.My life is nowJust a page;Just a pageIn a history book.

Goldfish

2007-10-09T16:42:00.000-07:00

I feel so strange when I talk to you.
Those few weeks were painful yet sweet.
I see you and think this could've been our times.
I write crippled songs, they could've been our rhymes.

We're goldfish in a bowl with three minute memories.
We're goldfish living aquarium lives.
We're goldfish living aquarium lives.
We're goldfish, as little as can be.
Three minute memories,
They matter to me.

I feel so strange when we walk side by side.
That one walk for ten minutes was heaven.
I see you and wonder why I ever asked you out.
I can see the road, but I still fumble about.

We're goldfish in a bowl with three minute memories.
We're goldfish living aquarium lives.
We're goldfish living aquarium lives.
We're goldfish, as little as can be
Three minute memories,
They matter to me.

I feel so strange when you smile, and I.
There is no we, just you and my skin.
I see you smile and think that after all.
What I gave away hurts me less when I fall.

We're goldfish in a bowl with three minute memories.
We're goldfish living aquarium lives.
We're goldfish living aquarium lives.
We're goldfish, as little as can be
Three minute memories,
They matter to me.

Stellarplay

2007-10-08T10:24:00.000-07:00

The boy sat under the starry sky.
The boy, he drew the lines.
He made pictures, drew goodbyes-
Drew from starry shines.
One day he thought, would it not be nice
To have his own li'll sky
Where stars could grow
And stars could live
And other stars could die.
In that sky, the starboy thought,
His thoughts would be more real.
The stars may be fake, just in his mind
But they'd be like he could feel.
So one night that lonesome boy
He made a mirror so big,
The mirror reflected the stars and sky
And their starry jig.
On that glassy canvas
The boy, he drew new stars
And painted some like the coloured sky
And killed them as it were.
And now the boy had his perfect sky
A sky where all was right...
And he joined the dots
And he drew the lines
And played with stars all night.

This was written by me based on an idea provided by my friend Soumyadeep. He is the one who envisioned this. This will be made into a song by his band Nevermind. Credits due to them, by far.

Shallow

2007-09-26T16:53:00.000-07:00

I've been lonely all my life;
Mostly misunderstood.
I've lived alone
Like my kind should.
But now I'm waiting eagerly under a dark blue sky.
I'm waiting eagerly for a star or two to die,
So that I may be awash in stardust
And be glittery
Like the rest of them.
So that I may hide the different earthy shade
Of which I'm made;
And belong.
Because I don't want
To be lonely any more.
I know I probably don't deserve it.
But is it too much to ask for?

Dust

2007-09-03T13:29:00.000-07:00

There's no way you'll stop the bleeding
When you took the pain to cut it.
And I don't really care
Because I'll live anyway.
Because all will fall to dust.
But.
There's no way I'll be that happy, like
When I thought you'd always be mine.
But before you go away
For good, turn back once.
You should probably once look
At the pieces you left behind.
At the million things
I thought you cared about.
At the million things
I did for you;
But you will never know of.
I thought they mattered.
But now I know
That you faked it all along.
But now I know
That I was always wrong.

Co-written with Shonai . She's a very talented writer and artist. Check her blog out!

Eve

2007-08-25T12:06:00.000-07:00

She walked the gold and purple glade.
She was as old as the world she said.
Her touch was warm and pastel green.
Her soul bore storm and moonlit sheen.

The night was calm and starlit dark.
And on her hand she bore a mark.
A mark of the bite of a serpent, vile.
Yellow, livid, as if steeped in bile.

In the other hand she bore a fruit.
She was gentle, kind but tired on foot.
She sat by the garden for she was wan.
She said she was the mother of Man.

Some Girl

2007-08-10T16:51:00.000-07:00

There was this girl
And she had a broken heart
And I was telling her to mend it,
That it'd be okay.
And well, what do you know
She took mine away instead.

There was a brick place
And she went there every day
At half past five every evening
I waited right there
For a passing glimpse of
The girl, her eyes and all.

And there was this door
And she walked through it
And I was forgotten quite easily
As most things are
Well, it doesn't really
Matter. Not much, anyway.

Driftwood

2007-07-10T12:42:00.000-07:00

The boat is waiting;
And the river is wide and strong.
The boat is waiting,
I wonder if it's been that long;
So long that I wouldn't know
The earth from which I came.
So long that I wouldn't go
To people who know my name.
The river has no end
The river has no start
The river meanders along
The sides of my earth.
And I'm on this side
Or maybe on the other.
Shreds of my pride
Get scattered by the rudder.
Lostfishes sing to me
The songs of the sea
Songs of lands far away
And songs of lands, free.
The boat is still waiting
And I have no oar
The boat is still waiting
Waiting for more.
And I stand.
Torn from here
Torn from there
Unbelonging, from nowhere.
Something still drives me on
My roads to come
And roads long gone.
Hope. Or rage. Or maybe the sky.
Something, somewhere. I know not why.
But then again,
When I look at you
You're also lost
And searching too.

A Place Like a Place

2007-07-05T14:18:00.000-07:00

In the grey dust, there is a face.
A pit where there was once an eye;
The other eye sightless.
Scarlet drops ooze out of the pit
Onto what was once, fertile soil.
Tears of red form a river
That flows for evermore into the bleak horizon.
At a distance a knotted, leafless tree counts its days
Reaching into the grey, yet cloudless sky.
The rough, scarred face.
The shadows of day peep from the mists
Into that grey and red, petrified.
Sands of time are not of this grey world.
Winds do not blow in this frozen realm.
The river of red flows silent.
The grey sky silently caresses the grey face with a colourless hand.
Faceless beasts lurk in the crimson depths
Hidden from the unseeing eye.
The grey mouth with grey lips
Gapes at the featureless sky.
It is bound.
Its soul is a slave to the heart of the grey land.
The tree too grips the heart of the grey earth
With its roots,
Thirsty.

(PS: I called it prose. A friend or two thought it to be a poem. Thusly, it is here.)

Paint and Starshine: Edge

2007-07-02T14:25:00.001-07:00

The particles, they play on still...
Roaming, looking, waiting to kill.

The cigarette, it's out and down,
The beer is cold and light.
My sight is but my second sight,
My smile is but a frown.

The morning is all smoke and sin,
The tea is bland and cold.
Painters and starmen of old,
Are tired of this din.

The paint it slowly peels away,
The paint is flaky and dry.
The starshine is waiting for the day
The day when the stars too die.

Paint and Starshine : The Beginning of the End

2007-07-02T14:23:00.001-07:00

The decay there is almost done.
The rot in here has just begun.

Beer and beverage, all is lost.
Smoke and people,
In the hoar frost.

Billboards and stars are rusted, dim.
Yellowed and old
And tired and grim.

And the paint fades,
It runs thin.
The paint, it washes away.
The starshine, too
It grows dim.
The stars, they're dying today.

A Hint of Blue

2007-06-24T12:56:00.000-07:00

The blue tint of the room is most kind.
As are your eyes.
They have that certain softness
Which makes men wonder.
Do not mist them with tears, not just yet.
Do not glint them with the vice that is in the hearts of men.
You are fine just the way you are.
Look at me, and I will tell you why.

The blue tint of the room is prismatic.
As is your hair.
It billows like the black clouds
Of forgotten monsoons.
It looks just that bit blue, like the sky.
It looks just like the inky sky on a half moon winter night.
You are the other muse now.
Look at me, and I will tell you why.

The blue tint of the room is heartache.
As is the distance.
Hold my skin close to yours
To the warm, soft matte.
I am moving inside you, anyway.
I am moving inside you, let me in deep into your veins.
You should be closer to me.
Look at me, and I will tell you why.

The blue tint of the room is woundlike.
As is estrangement.
I will not cut you for words
The ones you left unsaid.
I ache to hear them still, the silent leaves.
I ache to hear them and somewhere heartbound you know it too.
You are beautiful in silence, but.
Look at me, and I will tell you why.

The blue tint of the room is frostbite.
As are things you touch.
Cold numbness in your fingers
Still better than death.
The world is not cold, it is not yet cracked.
The world is not cold, it is you who are burning up on the inside.
You are bruising your soul now.
Look at me, and I will tell you why.

Just a Man

2007-05-22T12:05:00.000-07:00

You like to think I'm stronger,
Better than those around you.
You wish I would stay longer,
Beside you, at the pits.

But I'm just a man, who stumbles and falls.
Yes, I'm just a man, who crumbles and crawls;
And falls apart in bits.

You like to think I'm a thought
Better than those others.
You wish I wasn't just forgot,
Like a sleepy night.

But I'm just a man, who's fighting off the binds.
Yes, I'm just a man, who'll be writhing till he finds;
Some sort of light.

Shouting Through the Storm

2007-05-22T11:34:00.000-07:00

Can you hear me through the stormy day?
And the clouds, they're dark and deep.
Can you hear me through the rain and wind?
Can you hear me in your sleep?

I'm crying, not tears but raindrops,
I'm crying out your name.
It's a restless night and the dreams are cold.
The trees are scared and the stars are old
And are tired of this game.

Can you hear me? The skies are red,
And the seas, they're bursting and black.
Can you hear me? I'm calling you by name.
Can you hear me calling you back?

I'm shouting, but I hear no sound,
I'm shouting out for you.
It's a splintered eve, the lamps are dim.
The wine is old and filled to brim,
And makes my heart so blue.

Old Gates of a Place Called Home

2007-05-21T12:02:00.000-07:00

No place like home, you say?
So why did you go away?
And take your bag and baggage
And leave them in the dust?
Your people,the scar and damage
The old gates, and the rust?

They wait for you still now
They wait for you and how.
Stop now and look back
At the things you left behind.
You'd let the pictures crack,
The ones painted in your mind.

Heartbeats

2007-05-20T13:11:00.000-07:00

The sounds of the city are loud and it's clear
The sounds drive peace away as they slowly draw near.
If you listen closely enough, close your eyes in sleep.
And let the numbness creep.
If you close your ears to them, the sounds and the speed
And hold your head close to me, when you are in need
You can listen to my heartbeat, my heart beating in my chest
My heart thumping and pumping in battle or in rest.

The sounds of the guns are brimstone and fire
The sounds which are fueled by human greed, desire.
If you listen closely enough, when you softly weep.
And let the numbness creep.
If you don't breathe a word and are silent like the sky
And stop living a clockwork life and stop to ask Why
You can listen to my heartbeat, pumping out the blood
In a bid to keep me alive, through snow, fire and flood.

Person

2007-04-28T10:34:00.001-07:00

Time will flow and fly away
Like a free bird in the sky.
Bubbles will be found and lost
In the flow; I can't deny.

Pieces will fit together
Like a puzzle; like life.
A human shaped hole
Cut out with a knife.

A shell in the sands of time
The sandy shore, it's true.
A little excuse called a life-
But I miss her. I do.

Survivors

2007-04-14T11:14:00.000-07:00

Maybe some other time,
In some other dream
Where the sun shines a little bit brighter
We'd be happy, our hearts a bit lighter.

The world is too crowded
And the sky is too clouded
For us to know and be complete
With what we have, and rest our feet.

And as we see new fresh faces
And wipe away the bloodlike traces
We know what could've been and what not
It's almost done with. Crushed, forgot.

But now and then the little bits
Fall on us and make us grit.
With clenched teeth we will fight it through
I'll fight them off, and so will you.

Glass

2007-04-02T11:58:00.000-07:00

I'm so excited,
Like a man on grass.
I'm so excited,
It's easy to tell;
It's like water that swells
And it's made of glass.

Glass, they say, is easy to see through.
Brittle, I know; it's easy to break.
Glass, is in me, it is in you, too.
How many glass shards can you take?

I am so high,
The sky surpass'd.
I am so high,
It's in the face;
It's like cloves and mace
And it's made of glass.

Glass, they say, is easy to see through.
Transparency isn't easy to fake.
Glass, is in me, it is in you, too.
How many glass shards can you take?

Wishes

2007-03-25T11:05:00.000-07:00

I wish I could explain
In words, what I feel
Or how much I care.
I wish now and then
My wounds would heal
Or would just disappear.

I wish I could fly again;
And stay close, and sleep.
And if ever I had to go
Somewhere distant, somewhere far;
I wish I could swim into the dark, and shine.
Shine like a lonesome star.

The Face of War

2007-03-23T08:47:00.000-07:00

The face of war is a sad, grim sight.
It is too hard to stare into.
Does it spout infernal wrath?
Or blood from wounds, shot right through?

The face of war is cold like death.
It brings forth no verdant dreams.
Spots of various colours, but.
No matter how obscene it seems.

The face of war is not mine, I know.
I am too weak to hate and slay.
I am one who bears the flag of good.
I am a creature of sloth, today.

The face of war is Morpheus' mask.
A face that hides the truth within.
The war to end all wars is but
A lie for countless nameless sins.

The face of war is of a lonely child.
A face devoid of smile or shine.
A soul devoid of love or food.
A face that mocks the ways divine.

The Question Asked to War

2007-03-17T08:30:00.001-07:00

Insipid and uninspired,
Full of blood and gore.
Full of pain and more.
These are just some words, rewired.

Peace is pricey,bought with war.
But is that peace worth fighting for?

Flak, and bullets fired,
Are unasked for by men.
Not you or me, but then.
These are just some gifts, undesired.

Peace is pricey,bought with war.
But is that peace worth fighting for?

Just That Little Bit

2007-02-17T07:12:00.001-08:00

Today I feel as if a million suns

Are burning inside me.

Truth is so intense,like blazing guns

It's punching me with holes.

But today I'm healing much faster

Than wounds can overcome me.

Because I'm free.I'm my own master

And I feel like I'm sunshine.

Yes,I feel just that little bit better

Nowhere is somewhere,suddenly.

Yes, I'm a day they call red letter

Because rain is like new life, to me.

Truth can be so bright that it blinds;

But I want to look at it, straight.

Truth is often just in our lost minds.

I'm just a man,but I will forget.

I'm just that little bit better.

I'm just that little bit high.

Just that little bit.

Butterflies

2007-02-09T11:25:00.000-08:00

Butterflies with molten colours.
Butterflies flying with wings,free
Over piles of crumbled iron
Under one crooked chainbound tree.

Butterflies flying with wings.
Butterflies with suntinted bodies,too.
Rays through crystal walls;
In a glass box,shaped like shapeless blue.

Butterflies in the sunlight.
Butterflies in a trapped free flight.
Gun in your hand,blood and all
How many did you kill last night?

Butterflies, free but trapped.
Butterflies.Can they think?
Do butterflies bleed colour,
Or the nectar that they drink?

Shooting Star

2007-02-05T11:19:00.000-08:00

It wasn't from the inside,
And it didn't get too far.
But it was a ray of light
And it ripped through space
Like a shooting star.

It shed light they called space dust
And lit the sky dark blue.
It was a thin line in the night
And it brought hope to people
Who wished upon it too.

It was just a speck of dust
And was burning up with speed.
It put up quite a fight,
And for a while 'twas a star;
A lost, fallen star, in need.

From the Master

2007-02-05T11:11:00.000-08:00

Come to me my slave,
And do my bidding.
Toil under the whiplash wounds
Under a million blue white moons.

Come to me my slave,
And bow before me.
Give me back my paradise dreams;
Give me my music of your scarlet screams.

Come to me my slave,
Bound with my chains.
Wipe off your one unforgiven rhyme;
Wipe off your sweat just one more time.

Come to me my slave,
And be bound to my will.
Bring with you a thousand wreaths;
Withered flowers for a thousand deaths.

The Shop

2007-01-29T06:56:00.001-08:00

And it came with a crunch
The crushing of the crust;
Coloured,coated chocolate
With two pinches of dust.

What can you buy with flesh?
I asked them.
But they were silent.

And it was so sweet
The sugar and the leaf.
A hero, they called me
And a two-timing thief.

What can you buy with blood?
I asked them.
But they were silent.

And it froze the insides
The house and the heart;
The wine was so cheap
At two dimes a quart.

What can you buy with tears?
I asked them.
But they were silent.

And it was with spice
They sprinkled the skin;
I touched it with crystal
And two cupfulls of sin.

What can you buy with hope?
I asked them.
And they laughed.

The Last Wish

2007-01-27T10:43:00.001-08:00

As I pack my bags

And get ready to go

There is one thing

I'd like you to know.

When I saw you for the first time

I felt at peace

For no reason.

Much less, rhyme.

Upon my mind

This thought does press,

For before you came

I was in bitterness

There were no roses

Just smiles, you see

And memories shared

By you and me

I know not why

But before you came,

For me it was just

A losing game.

I wish we could

Be more than friends;

Walk together through

The turns and bends.

My heart feels more

Than my words can say.

And more so,

With each passing day.

But I'm not broken

Much less, dead.

I guess it's all

Just in my head.

But as I leave,

And as you wave,

There is one thing

I truly,truly crave-

To let it all go,

And like sunshine,

To wrap you in my arms

And call you mine.

Paint and Starshine

2007-01-22T12:33:00.001-08:00

The radioactivity
In my head
Is a calamity,
Like I said.

The mug of icy beer
Was more than just a friend
As the fag burnt away
To a slow but fiery end.

Men who painted billboards
And men who lived on stars
Were men who braved the smaller things
And fought the daily wars.

A small cup of lukewarm tea
In the morning feels divine
And people can be bought here
With paint and starshine.

The Difference Between Now and Then

2007-01-22T11:58:00.001-08:00

As I wake up from my sleep
I feel all down and blue
All your secrets I will keep
But I wish you'd love me too

I take a puff,or just a drag
Knowing it's only but a while
With shredded memories in my bag
Someone, somewhere makes me smile

Could be love.Or it's just me
Maybe it's all just in my brain
It's not here, but it could be
The difference between now and then.

Love.Lost.Replaced with.

2006-08-15T12:02:00.000-07:00

Drizzles, and a chill in the air.
Pain born, love lost.
Nobody left to care.

A lovely morning- the pain begins again.
Love lost- all it left back was pain.

I'm still complete- only love was lost.
The sun isn't warm anymore...
It's just a ball of frost.

The sun sets.
A break-off from the fight.
Sex and cigarettes - on a cold Calcutta night.

After a War, and Before Another

2006-07-14T10:44:00.000-07:00

Then it was time....
The end of days.
Covered in grime...
A dusty haze.

Bloodied swords--
Overcome with rust...
Battling hordes--
A handful of dust.

The stench of deaths
The east wind bore.
A million white wreaths....
And a few more.

The shining sword
Did a million kill--
Yet the tyrant's claws
Want more blood, still.

Wisps of Cigarette Smoke

2006-06-28T23:33:00.000-07:00

A cigarette burns.
Almost silent.
As also life's twists and turns---
Hideously bent.

A few tears.
Pointlessly shed.
Hidden fears.
Crimson and Red.

Soft dreams and rain.
A better time.
A story of Heaven-
A dozen a dime.

Loved and lost.
Broken.
Hearts encrusted in frost.
In pain.

Cloudlets of smoke.
Nicotine.
A pointless joke.
Saccharine.

Blurred love.
Hate.
A sky above.
Inviolate.

Grey City

2006-06-17T23:29:00.000-07:00

Brick, concrete and layers of stones,
Large -sometimes rusted- the iron bones.
Buildings big and buildings small,
Shady alleys and the odd broken wall.

Dusty roads and wide straight streets,
Machines of metal, dancing to mechanical beats.
Working hands and shuffling feet,
Tired minds, nested in hollow meat.

Blood and chains and shades of grey...
A shadow of Utopia? Perhaps, but not today.
Broken, beaten, yet hopeful eyes
With broken, beaten, and sorrowful smiles.

Twisted trees and wilted flowers -
Frozen dead in time across wasted hours.
Sorrow, joy and screams of pain -
Sold off for some fateful gain.

If you've read this before, please wait for newer work to flow in. Typing in my writing into the computer is bothersome.

Fumbling Firsts...

2006-06-17T09:25:00.000-07:00

Every first is a wobbly step,
Every first is new.
Every first is a waking wish,
And clear like morning dew.

I made this blog to put up all my poetry-like compostions in it. This will help to keep by other blog clutter-free, and also this will keep my poetry-like compositions tabulated.