Change

Belong to the tree.. no more

2012-01-17T13:10:00.000+01:00

Wilderness take me over
bury me between the thickest
blanketed by the dews

Wilderness take me over

from the hands of maurading breeze

to the silent flotsams by the cove

Wilderness take me over

as composed Autumn's song when I

swivel float to join fellow composts..

Seeking Buddha

2012-01-17T12:25:00.000+01:00

A picture
of million leaves
in my head
with crafted veins
shaded green.
At it's center
upon a mound,
a calm, glowing someone sits.
The imagery and the tone changes
to barks, twigs
bubbles and smoke
in all, at its center
it is that someone I seek.
In all those forms, the formless
stays, smiling slight
at my form through
his besotted sight.
There's a
path that leads
to his foot side
by the mound
now obscured
by false beliefs
and likes, I know.
My knowledge of it
is like the candle
under the Sun
So bright and yet so dark,
I don't know where to begin...

Father and Son!

2011-07-18T20:18:00.004+02:00

I.

I was smiled at, at last.
Shared the same moment of a
Lifeless rock that had violets grown
Between the crack, touched by
An insouciant breeze that makes
the rocks sway at the Violet's feet..

HIM

The light thrown at the pulpit
to spurt ethereal glow in to
dark smitten mausoleum called existence

He looked up into his father's eyes
and I lowered my eyes down
to catch the reflection of my father's Son
While the Time in-between sewed
this all with the moment when
I stared in to my father's eyes !

Whose Hero is he?

2011-07-18T20:01:00.003+02:00

Home coming - A frenzy August fever

grapples all doubts to death

the joy felt, immeasurable, if not more,

fades like November's Sun

Duty calls and this time far,

away from August's pruning & desperate faces

Him, a Wasp caught in tarantula's spell

Yearnings eclipse the day

Noiseless cries mark the night

The distance, it chokes them Lovers throat.

(a letter arrives at the door step..finally..)

The separation has done its trick

Days on calendar hung on the far white wall flutters

From it slithers promises...

..as white lies.

Summon the clouds!

2011-01-11T20:38:00.003+01:00

I slept to wake up in the far Orient
and when she did, the Great Walls gave in
to the silent Thames.

We summon the clouds
gray and dark
to speak of things
closer to heart

I kept wishing my nights away
while she strangled her somber days

Time desisted to move faster
staring at her face endlessly

And I stayed religiously hoping
the door knob would soon creek
at the sound of her keys!!

To K - the substance inside me!

Wait

2010-10-13T20:03:00.005+02:00

Ochres and crimsons filled
the courtyard noiselessly
while my steps rustle the fallen
I eavesdropped on the
ruffian looking barks
that seldom sway
to monstrous breeze
they appeared confronting
and miffed of a stranger's visit
A snake like path made
of porcelain shards
walked me to a brick wall that is long wedded
to a passage beside
I kept staring at
my ambulating foot
all the way while the mind
kept reeling emotions of a different kind
I looked up expecting you at the other end
So I could run half-way and
you complete it by running into my folded arms

But a fallen ochre-crimson
in the hands of a zephyr hits my face
fluttering between my eyes and lips
before being dragged into the winds play
I sigh, with hands against the hip
and lips half bit I look up,
swearing at the non-existent gods
like spat coming back at you
droplets of rain hit and dribbles down my face
the earth beneath my feet quaffs it
Somewhere in the constant pitter-patter
and curtain of beads of water
comes a steady growing sound of a sandal,
so yours, sloshing,
making little ripples and rivulets
reaching for my heart quicker
making my eyes grow big
And I stand there consumed
by the seconds of
the culmination of my wait!

Addiction

2010-08-30T12:38:00.005+02:00

I miss my addiction to you
the heart writhing pain
the word choked throat
an empty cloak below
that changed long ago
squirm, blood and flesh
of what could have been
you and me and me and you
still exist in the figment of
my contorted imagination
Muses walked out on me
for what I did to you
Now here I am -
a fading ember
in the company of choppy waters
illuminating your
dying foot prints!

That's about - It (heart)

2009-11-02T23:47:00.006+01:00

It never stopped to yearn,
So I lived ignoring its ways
Made my truth and convinced the system to believe
- it does not exist

Forced sleep upon dream drenched eyes
to forget its needs
built concrete structures of memories around
and concealed it inside casks of silence

Only to realize that it shows out between
the lacerated curtains of fleshless scaffold

- my bloody heart!

Witness

2009-09-28T23:57:00.003+02:00

Come night come moon-light
   pierce shallow waters
'til your silver dusted hand
   tickles the long porus back
of the unfaithful riv(her)

Come night come moon-light
   reach for her curvy
colorful contours,
   pinching her between the mounds
as they appear to move in your light play
   before settling down on her yonders

Come night come moon-light
   descend down upon her ravines,
touch the lips and kiss it
  And in this noiseless serenade
meander deep in to her cervice

Come night come moon-light
   not betray ye faithful eyes
before these rest in
   of your sinful prelude
before her carnal carnival
   With the morning might

Lost Lamb

2009-08-31T01:27:00.003+02:00

Flutes play,
between my ears
and afar from a yonder
is a song heard
beyond bedlam voices

those tunes the heart knows
those lines the lips chant

Grows loud with the dying day
like the light in the night of full-moon, beam

She who plays doth never see

the one that yearns, among the grazing

that lifelessly would stray away

in the reminiscent of her love
every night to his shepherd's keep.

Gone!

2009-08-28T22:23:00.003+02:00

May be
I'm still that lad
who walked the snake roads
under cerulean skies
with bunch of tunips
and a boyish smile

come equipped
to lock lips n make love
and live a small life
in minutes with you out there
like pilgrims
at the gates of
their Jerusalem
in their priestly flow
feeling good godly and gone!

Just so I cherish
what it is to be with you
to that when I am not
like the sweet nothings
that escape them lips
of those who sing hymns and pray,
moment their personal gods
come of life 'fore front of em for one.

Fast Love!

2009-05-10T22:08:00.003+02:00

After your sabbatical from my skies
like dry earthen staring at the rain drought sky
I waited for a cathartic drench
so came a drizzle - fast love
this doesn't seem to last or will it, last love

Hope you found what you left me for -
For I am facing this drizzle now
between you passing sister-clouds what do you speak?
for this earthen has started to dry and this drizzle
doesn't seem to last or will it last, love

2008-04-09T15:20:00.001+02:00

Our bodies lay stitched to one another, lifeless
like an eiderdown, by the garden floor

gossamers & ghosts go around
into and from the fissures of our heads
mine to yours yours to mine
nothing spoken nothing said

ballet of silent shadows 'fore our eyes
half open in our half sleep

Dream. We fall in one. Asleep, as one.
setting the stage for another dream.

Seed. Sanctuary.
Sanctuary. Seed.
Dream. Sleep.
Sleep. Dream.

and wake up alone on our beds
with black eyes and clouded thoughts
in reminiscence of yet another sleepless night

Kohl eyes & moonless night

2007-03-26T12:11:00.000+02:00

She : A pilgrim in search of his presence..
      ... a shy locust in pursuit of lantern's glow.

He : She has lit up my otherwise dull lachrymose night
        wait sets with the dusk and fast.
        I absolve moon-god, for a moonless sky
        Her benign appearance devours confusions. clamours cease.
        In her everyday sojourn, she begins to narrate..
        And slowly her kohl smudged eyes curtains my night..

Bulb..Bubble..Burst..

2006-11-17T17:19:00.000+01:00

Speckle of dust
caught in a
bubble of dream,
awaits resurrection
from within its
iridescent orb that
floats in a
school of bubbles
that holds a
speck each

Bubbles snap for two
as they run into each other
making the vertex
violet for a sec and
dissolutes without noise,
revealing him to her
and her to him,
under new light
they levitate close
but not closer

Him lost, at the sight
of her, who
stares like a child
that just lost a balloon,
with pouted lips,
trying to smile
and a face that's
half naked
between her
disheveled tousle.

Her,
not lost,
but gauging
by the lines
of smile that
ran forth from corner
of his eyes
like a child
that found
the lost candy

moment for a moment
shared between unfettered specks
and before they could
exchange another..
bubbles envelope
steering each, to its own
..but with traces of
his blue on to hers
and her pink on to his
bubble as they drift...

Requiem

2006-11-07T16:55:00.000+01:00

Rain drenched road
where I last left you
with a quick peck,
the cobblestone
streets that echoed,
that vanishes
into the muddy streets
of malachite green meadow,
is same no more.

Its raining now
where I had left you last..
Meadows fragrance
rob me off your smell.
Yonder beyond that
stole images I held.
Only stones echo pitter-patter of rain
like the peck I left on your cheek, once,
that's now..no more..

On grass..

2006-10-31T16:21:00.000+01:00

Intrusions of silver dust
enters my night gazing eyes.
Between her and I
flows blankets of
formless zephyrs
into the dark space,
swiftly touching
a million of spineless blades in
an open dark barley field.
Somewhere in the corner
of her eyes I see a rain cloud
moving with gray matters
of the moonless sky, atone.

I try to hold, who is not there
she reaches, when am not near

Between shores of
existent and non-existent souls
and their wonderwalls,

night smiles as it passes by.

So my young love, tickled pink, beside..

Hiatus

2006-10-28T23:54:00.000+02:00

Random spirit
sketching fate
of my verses
has slept..

this light's absence
from waxless candle
instigates acrid smell

like a corpse
in search of
personal ghost

I wander,hither and thither
with arcane lamp but
in dark my self

In search of a soft glow
away from neon gods
and lachrymose faces

To pen a verse
oh just a verse to be death
of my dead verses..

Visitor..

2006-08-01T11:24:00.000+02:00

A silent visitor
from the far west
orange county
in the sanctuary of
mind space bloom &
morbid thorns
that has spread
like a motif of
mirrored patterns
in the recess of my mind.
I know not
what you sought
but glad you trod back
often from west shores
and paddle back silently
in a phantom yacht..

Half buried mannequin.

2006-07-24T23:41:00.000+02:00

Life around bores
beyond human cognition.
Showers are yesterday's and
Spring feasts are long gone
drawing in its place, an ochre sun

Pit had dried up from a squashy
wet blanket to wet patch on a clay urn..

Squeezing me to the frugal space
between the cracks of a parched land

Speculating descent of an acid rain,
to feel her tongue on mine, decolor
to let her wither me back to mud
or I shall, at the hands of
another winter..

Jack of Club

2006-07-09T15:02:00.000+02:00

I have..
  left you indulge in me
In a shuffled & predictable pack,
   as jack of clubs
and queen of spades.
   misplaced and caught
in odd set of games
   with bad poker hands
your entry, exit & wordplay
   cleave me to pieces
like a serrated knife
   hmmm irony it is
even if I play
   King of dice
and you,
   the queen of (someone’s) heart..

Rituals

2006-06-18T10:36:00.000+02:00

This time I let you write an apt verse...

Place : Old Harbor, Antwerp, Belgium

Basics..

2006-06-14T22:18:00.000+02:00

An attempt to revive a long lost mode of expression. These work however good or bad is dedicated to my favorite artist, brother, student & teacher..

Beginning...

Intepretation..

2006-05-24T12:05:00.000+02:00

Silhouette of a
   lone leaping antelope
across the moon
   between the banks
of pine trees

In an empyrean
   realm twixt liquid
reflections of a glowing
   orb and silver
dusted skies

Neither a night's dream
Nor a thought stream,
But a fantasy ridden scape
I stand before and stare into
as we speak

Fate wills, I live a different world
of plastic smiles and spastic reality
outside my penance,
away from your eyes
Something..I seldom wish.. to seek.

Coversations with Spring..

2006-05-21T14:11:00.000+02:00

Friday night at a friend's
  for moonlight, scotch and
ravenous need for old boy's talk
  last one to peg was
the first one to fall..

Maturing weekend, a Saturday's dawn
  from the sheath of hang over &
boyish hood I start
  brisk short walk across the park
teasing breeze, mild morning, virgin it is

Feigned park's appearance &
  hunch-back trunks tell tales of
Zephyr of the twilight hour
  and its path, now mine, towards
the shell white garden bowl

That's filled with
  liquid green, smelly moss & amber browns
I stand there, by the fills that ebb
  perturbed, beyond the rims
of the bowl and my heart

Morning await
  benign pours
from the dark looming
  cotton clouds on an ageing
spring day at a hour past four

I shun purposes, of my walk,
  of reaching home
In a transcendence hang-over
  instigated by the purity around
and dirge hum of the trees

Gaelic tunes of a northward gale
  enter souls that, encircle the bowl
With hands spread and crucified to the
  priest like flow that, leaves as tears
from behind smoke-blue eyes..
~

Written last Saturday around 7.a.m after I reached home. Park that I pass through to reach my house is my Muse. There are times when I jus murmur verses to myself and never make effort to recollect and write it down. But this time I did not take much effort to put it down..the whole experience was so fluid and it came pouring. I was bit glad to find there were few other souls that seek such silent quarters and serene mornings..

Though I had my cam I did not bother to click it..It was early morning and I was lazy ..hope you'd understand..:)

...

Ma..

2006-05-14T22:26:00.000+02:00

Happy Mother's Day

Quartuor Muros

2006-04-25T10:25:00.000+02:00

Candelabrum of thoughts
inside four walls
of mausoleum
spews light
lighting dark yester
ignominies.
Innate questions
gyrate inside
censuring sorts and likes.

Who are you?
&
Who am I?

Then gone as dispersing soot

Ebony forms consuming
Darkness by night

Yes, that’s what we are.
That’s what we are!!
Is that what we are?

Doubts, oodles of them
orchestrate in unison
keeping me captive;
Lost myself to defining
and defying truth, standing
At a vortex's mouth
expecting another free fall
all inside medieval astylar

All

Within my four walls.

Art work courtesy my bro. He captures the essence like no other..thanks broah

Mute Boat

2006-04-06T23:03:00.000+02:00

Spring's trip to a placid tarn
invading through thickets and orchids
reaching the mouth, b'yond barnacles
we row towards the silent quarter.

Eyes locked, lips latched and imbibing emotion.
In a wind's drift repressed senses and feelings reveal.

An outbreak of tender coyness and sly smile starts to show
on the erstwhile inanimate faces.

At the midst, we seize to oar pausing for breath on a sublime
evening and curse and yearn inside, wishing the other should talk.

The lake and life among the thickets seem to whisper
respecting new, an outset.
Steady but impatient ripples slap at my prow gently
as if nudging me to speak up.
Decelerating hull rocks, waking us from nonchalant selves.
Air around is viscous than the swamp we duck o’er.
In this unbearable tension, the Sun of the mackerel sky
too hides between the wings of Finches and Canaries.

Like an oust eroding tranquil minds, she placed
her hand on my lap, leaning towards a then
emptied soul.

Chirps, noises, flutters & flusters

Birth of bedlam on the laps of nature
Avowing a touch to be the verse of
million words simply said
and understood.

Trinity

2006-04-03T23:32:00.000+02:00

Thoughts
and then me
trudge away from
one another.
Towards

a different threshold,
a different realm..

Memento
of separation
crawls from inside
in the form of
an eternal
malaise

now we are
to each other..

..Esoteric. Estranged..
Riddled and ridiculed.

Ab absurdo. Ad absurdum

Like a disowned corpse shell
In the womb of all voids
Forming the most
incongruent trivalents

Me. Thought. I.

History

2006-03-27T22:22:00.000+02:00

Past crumbles.

Present morphs

'twixt lexica of questions and exclamations
In a constant flux of becoming,

From nothing

To nothing

Mock at another
half made history

His-story about her
as narrated in her-story

Minerva and the Muses

2006-03-21T14:35:00.000+01:00

Join me for an walk
in the clouds 'bove the faience
horizon meeting blue hued sea.
Let's measure the walks precariously,
listen to bagatelle whispered
amongst the looming clouds.

Lets grant each other a wish

I'd let you pinch a purpled cloud
and let you pussyfoot in its
torrential cry.
You - you let
loose, that heart in your
grip and kiss it to salvation
In 'tis evening walk of
cobwebbed fingers, along
the fringes of celestial
shadows,

You

Minerva,
stand by me as my constant Muse

Inertia

2006-03-15T16:52:00.000+01:00

Stay

We haven't
left one another
we haven't
lived it as determined
we forsake
assumptions
change for better
stay in
a relation
as we are
but as something
not defined

..Leave

Along the
corridor of
tattered heart
trudge along
and reach
mad man's
byzantum
there amongst
the rubbles
of sliced
silences and
questions pick
out all
that concerns you
Whence done,
prefer to leave
than sticking around
There, I find all
garbage gone even
the stench & stains,
I hide behind..

Animals

2006-03-10T20:34:00.000+01:00

Men with vision
Restricted to
Dangling breasts
And orbs of flesh

Women courting
Beyond moral rhythms,
Living a life gauging
Carrots and carets

Anonymous parents
As seed's faucets
Instills anonymity
On nascent faces

Faking and masking.
Lies and truth likes
Animals and Neanderthals
From genesis, to back..

Thriving towards
A Gross extinction -
Of better men
Of better women

Spout on creator - blame him
For prime's need
Be satisfied for a brief moment
In your innate animal instincts..

Shame on you..

This post is dedicated to Blank Noise Project".

Against attrocities, abuses or harresment of any kind. Be it against women, men or children.

If you are someone who is driven more by the flesh than by conscience, the Animal is you..be ashamed

Thanks to that friend who shared info & views about this project.

'ely 'ed

2006-03-08T12:24:00.000+01:00

Life - Wrongly Interpreted
Love - Recklessly Interrupted
Questions - Perenially instigated
Answers - Ignominiously adulterated
Thoughts - Irksomely amalgamated..

And so the list goes
Adhering to causation
All in cymbals of "I"..

You could associate
Or worse abnegate,
Or equally insane as I..

Disclaimer: This is not "Illiad" in nutshell. Jus filling up space..

Profane

2006-02-28T16:05:00.000+01:00

Am
carried by
the tempest
of your thoughts
and reach you to be
Slaved. Slayed.
I speak no further
or show grimace
whip me with
words tease
and torture
I am your
bitch and
enslaved
whore
~

Lament

2006-02-22T13:32:00.000+01:00

Stars fade
from my empyrean realm
fantasies escape
my begotten dream
leaving me, as a last breath
never to return anytime soon.
I treat myself to solitude
with Monet’s and murals around
looking burlesque and bleak
what has left or who?
I do not know
gouts of blood and
smear I see
in my reflection
with traces of apoplexy
preparing me, to stage
in one of the most
vexatious soliloquies..

p.s: Inspired by an art work done by my brother.
Original work is named Soliloquy.

Untitled

2006-02-21T10:58:00.000+01:00

Let the southern wind
softly blow
running mild
across midlands
reminding me of
simple touch
and insouciant whispers
keep them open,
the windows & doors
let the southern wind
softly blow..

Gathering Clouds II

2006-02-18T11:40:00.000+01:00

Gathering slow
in the misty skies
beneath the folds
of her clouded kirtle
gobbling down
the iridescent bow
and the orbed-Sun
making it dark
before dusk
propositioned to foreplay
with frugal orgasms
yet again, drenching
vertices & thickets
In her whimsical pour
while appearing to
have touched at
horizon, but,
climaxed without touching
at all..

Gathering clouds I

2006-02-06T19:51:00.000+01:00

One way ticket..

I killed it
as you wanted me to
murdered some fears
maraud in search for some.
simple verses,
the life of me and
The complex, curses
me to death.
how long is this
abnegation?
Black some. Gray some
It all ends here
As It all ends now
with a fortuitous climax
of shadows tied to
rail track of
a ghostly train
to hell, with it,
all innate
fears & hidden lives
begotten..

Redemption

Try hard to hide,
pretty Magnolia, but passions never hide
speaking heart not an ignominy
Exposed, never a parody
A gentle soul you are that seeks no more than unbridled love
So you'll find or better have already, waiting at your doorsteps like an unsullied Dove..
Wings of desire, Isn't the Icarus kind.
Fall, we would, but be redeemed

again..

Prisoner

In your sly smile
I see captivating glory of Tamburlaine,
wondering what you could've captured possibly?
sinking slowly in the ocular quagmire of your countenance
Glistening pearldrops by those eyes
And Gothic arches by those lips.
thoughts about self seems
trifled but an image
appeared, and there
I was, caught & captured
in the cobweb of
your impeccable
contrivance.
~

Healing..

2006-01-21T23:28:00.000+01:00

I

Sorrows, preamble to tears
  Serum sieves through the wounds
Would morph to stigmata and then heal
  "It bled for you", she said
Yes, for the pound of flesh, beholds
  Is not hers but mine instead..
I would resurrect her love
   Like pleasures of whimsical rain
Carry her along, while she follows
   Like twig less leaf in untamed wind
certainly appears aggrandized
   But ask her to dream jus once more tonight
For last of incubus she'd see
   By the dawn she's gone, in my arms, with me..

II

Her wings would not spread
   words fail and thoughts obfuscate
she's stalled, in search of the wound
   from where she bled..
Her silent moans and tearless cries
   aren't whispers to be missed
I could sense her palpitation
   despite her stoic calm
and see through her pain
   here, offer mine, for it has dried-up,
to damask of scars & stains
   I'll take her heart, as her, myself
heal 'em all, each by each
   with nothing less than
wet quivering kiss...

~Cura te Ipsum~

P.s:In an attempt to heal someone's wounds, someone who is very dear and a good soul :)

.

2006-01-19T17:22:00.000+01:00

Another attempt
to express this through
a wayward scribble
that expects nothing more than
a smile, hug and kiss
this is not a rambling
from puerile days
neither is this
an embellishment with words
had seen and read how
people talk about theirs
So why not I about,
my eternal river,
Origin, flesh and life
cannot praise you in phrases
for no word deems worthy
no language so complete
Diligent you are
when you listen to me
A grin, when I lie
And stare for, truth, I often time speak
But as always I'd make
another wish, that
I keep wishing for
but may never get..
bless me with a sleep
and a dream that’s solemnly true
each to each subtly painted
with different hues
Concoct melodies &
sing me a lullaby
mellifluous lute
bring me back the cradle sleep
rip off, along the seam of knowledge
make me naive, make me ignorant
of corporeal existence
O' gate-way devour me back
back to the source, as a seed..

Ma, Amritha

Essence of my life

Calling..

2006-01-13T21:24:00.000+01:00

One Sabbatical Sunday..
Meandering in the park
Reaching rubbles of clock tower
I seat myself on its steps
Cold January evening, unusually cold
Robbing me of my heat
I care less, as chill enters, uninvited
I watch thoughts linger around
Everywhere in the park
In all dark corners
Carefully picking
Those that belong to me
I knit them to a kirtle
Watching the Sun go down
The vermillion sky
And the crawling infant darkness
I continue in my muse
Under full phosphorescent moon
Park brims up
With swarm of flies
Under the strobe light
of luminous poles
I fumble on thoughts still
Each by each
With every breath
Am not the same now
with blood churning out cold
Hairs raise on the back and
ears alongside the head
revealing beast in, beast out
Masquerading along the dusk
Acting human, near a half frozen tarn..

howling

the call of the therian

Slow..

2006-01-03T11:30:00.000+01:00

She burns, I emulate similar lust
we stay seperated
clouds of new year
slither over one another
slow, slow she likes, as I
she simulates
testing preseverance
puerile and jejune
instincts die
but physically reveals
fog clears, real slow,
she gasps, her adultry surfaces,
with barren lands, leaving colossal skies
glory of bewitching sun..

Wishes..

2005-12-23T16:00:00.000+01:00

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year to all of you

"For His anger is but for a moment, His favor is for a lifetime;
Weeping may last for the night, But a shout of joy comes in the morning"- Psalm 30:5

~Φ

Her Seed..

2005-12-23T12:13:00.000+01:00

She basks
  In her warmth
The seasons change
  Her dissolute sins
are December's own
  that stays with season
making long forlorn
  but not so soon,
I hear her sing
  her, amongst us
could sense the spring
  withered leaves
from ground,
  soar back to her twigs
blooms emerge,
  in minutes to follow,
the nascent ripe,
  I listen, as she
eulogize 'bout
  cuddling feathers
in her refuge
  And 'bout leaves in passing
Wind, making love
  all, under her sun.
there she stands
  as if on a stylobate
supporting colossal
  skies spread above
caressing few colors too
  on the iridescent bow.
Ah, forgive me, for I
  have no clue of corporeal
existence, but felt her
  as the tree from the seed
buried inside this pensive mind

Wake up

2005-12-15T12:13:00.000+01:00

Rise and seat yourself
Upon the grave silent bed
Care for an insouciant smile
For the dawn, today.
Walk & look out of
Mauve draped window
Sheath yourself with
the morning breeze
Let it make tangents on your skin,
I would soon follow..
Look down to the boulevard green
As the daisies look up to you
With life...

Painter

2005-12-11T15:34:00.000+01:00

I paint your dreams
  from inside cauldron eyes
while you confabulate I'd bleach
  realities to tungsten blue
yawn and yearn while I'd re-sketch
  dusk with burning sienna
you'd live a different dream,
  in my dreams, tonight
may be once, so you could smell
  the paints, with which I
continue to paint your life...

Untitled

2005-12-01T15:46:00.000+01:00

Throne of Izmit,
In love,
Surreptitious one.
With spring she arrives,
To stay till fall
A quarter's love
As 'twas
This winter though
At his door step
She stands
And so
The December beside,
Structures of Byzantine
Looks oblique
To her curves,
Or so he feels
He lets them
And leads 'em
To his ochre yard,
There, under nascent
Turkish night's
Dull illumination
The orgy begins..

II

Him. Her. The December
Soon ochre turns white
White as milk. Virgin. White
Under blankets of
Gossamer flakes
Each takes turn
Revealing the
Other from the folds
Of embrace.
Serendipitously.
Kissing.
Teasing,
With rose buds
And lips.
Him Hers, Her, his
Every streak of
Disheveled hair
He clears off
Her face
A kiss he delivers.
Kiss for a kiss, so does she
And so the December
In between.

III

There’s no dawn.
Not in this yard at least
Wouldn’t matter, if there so be.
Whispers and moans linger.
Venus in act.
Shy orchids bow
Frail petunias bend.
Prince, he jousts amid pristine
Whites. Virgin red
December, she smothers
Mahogany creaks
Pearl drops of sweat
Plays pitter-patter
On her forehead from his
Summer heat. Descends
As she cleaves all over.
Blown smithereens
Inside each other
Still they lay, entwined
Night is not petulant
To souls in eurhythmy,
to be kindled by insatiable
December again..

Providence

2005-11-21T17:23:00.000+01:00

Clutches weaken
  Under my hold
Bodies glued
  In growing grip
Lips invade
  Seeking each other's
Killing proximities
  As they court .
Souls evade
  From present
To the sanctuary of silence
  How would I
Speak of this
  Succulent pleasure
And its taste
  If we continue
To suck life
  From each others
Lips and eyes..
  Breath escapes
Sighing petals
  And enters mine
Filling me as we pause
  Taking it in
I stare, at the slow
  Revealing
Somnolent looking eyes,
  Crescent too reveals
From under haze,
  And us,
As under,
  Holding still..
Consider not leaving
  This, as providence
he continues
  Architecting my demise.

Kill that mocking dream..

2005-11-16T16:39:00.000+01:00

Night spawns
A thousand thoughts
Each paired
With a million dreams
In every eyes
Behind crimson curtains
In the last
Thousand one
And tonight..

Just dreams
Yes, just dreams
A travesty
Staged a million times,
Of it, as we speak
In Neverland
We are, you said
While its no more
Than the Atlantis.

White lies, white dreams
A malady
And nothing more
Am tired chasing it,
Aren’t you?
Someday
We wake up to realize
Or worst
Pass out in sleep...

Under the Joshua..

2005-11-10T12:34:00.000+01:00

Seeds from sieves
  Of a pensive mind
Holds each a
  Joshua tree

One by one it
  Grows to bloom
Smell of which would
  Fill 'tis sanctuary soon

Alongside, in its shade,
  I see her perch, upon
Some blossoms that’s withered,
  Wide and spread

Adorned not in lavish taste
  But in pristine pure,
Milky white
  Gossamer lace

And there she waits
  With a little grin
In an unruffled posture
  Supporting, her chin

Answers, for many
  Only she could give
To ward off, many of
  My begotten grieves

Scathed by glow
  I trod along the swath to reach
That Joshua, emblazoned,
  Amidst others at night

Reaching her, with
  Shadows falling behind
Bourbon eyes, succulent lips and with what not
  she continues to allure this mind

Eons may have passed
  In this gap or so I feel
Cursing the proximity between
  longing to get close

Some sound of petals crack
  Or so she spake..
Her lips, her eyes and even
  Things around her spoke..

Staring at misted lotus feet
  On my knees, feeling
Shackles of silence around
  Diligently break free..

Ahhh, such is
  Emancipation, I need
Such is dream I long
  Could be real

Well.. the sun is back
  Where it started
And myself,where I lay,
  under this tree..

Rambling inspired by an 'image' from a friend's blog....

Love me less, hate me more..

2005-11-07T17:32:00.000+01:00

Sum of all fears
crawl over
gurgling noises
from inside heard.
palpitation sets in
and sweats out.
I think uncanny
and speak weird.
fingers tremble
and knees shiver.
vision escapes
and the blur appears.
nustling sounds
echoed hollow
words leave &
senses deceive
appearing stark naked
before all eyes
when best dressed
In simple sinful touch
am estranged to myself.
And you,
You continue to coddle
while I asphyxiate inside
this orb of death...

Typos corrected and tweaked as suggested by a dear friend, thanks many for her service to proof read it free of charge ;)- Φ

Untitled

2005-11-02T12:12:00.000+01:00

...And she urges me to write another
    forcing me out of sleep
nascent from dreams
    I scribble in hope,
perchance to make them real
    And with such nonchalance
I bury them
    soon before she puts
me back to sleep....

These eyes might someday
    will never open
And you may find
    this half writ piece,
to be read out in a soiree
    before a night's sleep
But enchantedly be kept awake,
    thinking about it
until she

..puts you too back to sleep..

R.I.P

Untitled

2005-10-26T12:44:00.000+02:00

Transforming forms
and translucent shapes
from within
these crystal orbs seen
Colors foray inside and into
the walls of this sphere
In array and disarray
pictures flow,
but in silence
Inside this church of images,
the temple of sight.
Staring too long, too deep
Compelling noises inside
the empty alabaster
to frozen still
I enter these eyes,
Behind the fluttering
Venetian blinds..

Marooned

2005-10-20T21:55:00.000+02:00

Along the isles of Corsica,
  and in the sands
of Marseille and Nice
  I wander,
Inside a pristine dream
  Bacchanalian feasts,
a grandeur,
  of wine, of women
Fellow troubadours greet
  and continue their way
Reaching a saline quarter
  I seat my self upon
one of the many
  silences afloat
and think..
  The waves continue to ebb
Froths swell, bubble
  and burst
Whilst I scribble
  An ode, a sonnet
and a couplet verse
  imbecile contempt
sets in on what's been writ
  A head left ajar
to panthom thoughts
  washed ashore
Nothings strikes
  an inspiration..
Am marooned, I said
  under bleak luminated cresent
and bewitching
  mermaid beside...

Chrysalis

2005-10-11T11:38:00.000+02:00

Gleaming morning light
creeps through drapes
to tickle, waking us
from embracing
the slumber..
In the moistened wrap
with cheeks glued
and jousted waists,
we stare...
Arched back
of frail leaves
encumbered by
the morning dews
And Fall, he continues
To paint her red
Leaving her lacerated
here and there
An amorous
morning scene
that grows steady
reflecting streaks of
glistening chrysalis
In your eyes, the besotted,
and home of my dreams..

Autumnal Catharsis

2005-10-05T17:29:00.000+02:00

Symbion associations
of entangled bodies
and not of hearts
Hmm..
Orbs of flesh
float around
incising thoughts inside
exodus of emotions,
finding their way
out as tears
as it too would taste less saline
amidst reaching my temples
As I lay drenched
with dilated eyes
in the once vermillion
painted yard
Now, the home of
virginal winter rain....

Numb

2005-09-13T06:21:00.000+02:00

Sonance of silence
devour you whole
inside catacomb of
pungent sarcophaguses
An Ornated auburn seat,
a posthumous throne.

Amidst unsettling dust
of the cold damp tomb
That narrates
Tale of once lived
pains endured
and nemesis borne.

Under a tepid
retreating light
eurythmy of sculpt
as shadows seen..
While I, amongst elysian
phantoms and kinsmen lie.

Sans regrets
of mournful yores
embracing a perfect
state of numbness
during life
and after death alike..

Untitled

2005-09-08T19:49:00.000+02:00

Uttering verses
making sketches &
dwelling inside dreams,
she allures
thoughts
from depths of
my diabolic self.
hidden inside hues
she reveals
sporadically
as red, as blue
as mist, as autumn dew
certain warmth
to a weary seeker
In his besotted eyes
trepidity crawls
as he sleep-walk
unmindful
of tremulous breeze
whilst dreams rehash
even outside his sleep...

Stashed Sfumato

2005-08-22T17:40:00.000+02:00

Drying, dripping tip..
  in moments
mastery revealed

  The formless
and spaces
  by strokes enliven

Plasters peel
  pastels blend
to revel the birth

  With such panache
framed, loved
  teased and adored

  (.. now.. )

Drying slow, dying slow
  stale smelling canvas
In your living room wall

  Amongst reals
wishes to usurp
  your escaping vision

for rework, a rebirth
  refusing to endup
as another sfumato in stash.

~..Sea of Whisper..~

2005-08-03T15:26:00.000+02:00

Azure shells
Blossoms and barnacles
Seek refugee in these salt
Laden shores

In a beach far from this
A stone grave,
The home of the soulless
And cataphor..

Sables seen
And requiem spread
Prayers from within
White soutane heard

Among the froth
And many others
That came afloat,
  a whisper

That sailed, silent
Mid seas and
Bedlam shores; in
Every salt and in every sand

   (..whisper..)

Reaching me, beyond 'em
The mirthless souls,
By the second and rests.
Arresting me, here, forever deep..

I lay here listening,
      still
And a smile escaping my face
Unburdened by tomb
Am buried beneath....

..to the Soulless..thanks..

..Shadowed..

2005-07-29T16:40:00.000+02:00

Daylights and moonlights
  Conglomerate my existence
But wouldn’t devour me whole
  Black under incandescence
And gray for the night
  In between them
Lies my illuminated landscape
  That separates realms
Of dark and of light.
  My innocence
Seeks light but he recedes
  And the night, she, chase
Along the lines of shadows
  A trap set labyrinth,
A creator’s spell
  In the width of straw..
Unseen and unnoticed
  Here I am

  ..The penumbra..

Inspired by bendatha..thanks to you

2..3..5

2005-07-07T13:44:00.000+02:00

Reborn out of
relations and fallacies
We are what
Odds and evens are
Some whole, some rational
Numbered days
On an exponential space
Infinitum and voids
Completing existence
Everyday, a result
Of certain yesterdays
Which series amongst them
Am I - that nobody counts on
in this god's sacred

Fibonacci...

Blind

2005-07-07T12:43:00.000+02:00

Yes I profess, color does
  means different things to
me and you
  you, soiled , an aberrance from the rest
In your words colors brought to light
  You, beholder, the kindered soul
shalt see colors not known to eyes
  hear and feel empty moans
Some parchment of color you are
  I do not know
that can fill inadequacies
  in us fallibles, in our rainbows
relieve us from our shadows
  relieve us from the haze
lifeless pictures we are or so we act
  dismiss certain vibes 'fore
and some patterns we miss
  reveal ye, the color, to us
for revelations we seek..
  Whos blind I do not know
you who lacks sight
  or our deprived insight
May be blind we are
  Me and the rest of us
from the day born to day dead
  wake us from this dream
tell us more, nocturnal guide
  what color is it and where to see..

Amongst stars and quasars..

2005-07-05T21:12:00.000+02:00

Gargantuan facades
ostensibly shrunk
From here, clouds, above
But amongst those many
somewhere a sweet home
with small portio
that smells of blooms
from garden below
there, like a stranger
she stands staring
at vast expanse
of million star-lit home
like pixel on paper
small and little
In those eyes I see them glow
Epoch many, I wait
Amid cosmic shelves
to streak past
dark loomed skies
hers, someday
to be wished upon..
the wish of
a dying star..

Molotov cocktail

2005-07-05T21:02:00.000+02:00

  Her eyes serenade
as she inch forward
  Heart beats ebb
to eternal still
  mere presence
to tarnished self
  a glistening floss
she leans
  across my temples
to whisper
  those words
that makes men frail
  in her utterance
i dissolute
  from flesh to ashes
where i stood
  she still stands

  murmuring

"Amore..amore..per sempre.."

Mothman Prophecies

2005-07-04T22:42:00.000+02:00

Dirty old rags;
   Soiled skin
Canines showing
In his eternal grin
   In my nights everyday
He comes
Speak not words
   But of wisdom
Things so many
He utters
   Then walks away
Leaving new dawn behind
Nights pass by this life
   - A remnant of dreams
Rumination of thoughts
To seek answer
   From him, the mothman
The mothman of my dreams
So hath come
   And speakth
In language I don't speak
"Th elo ve yo u seek
   Is ha rdt ofind"
cruciverbalist you are
if you reveal them best
   but when you would
this prediction be late
and you be left behind..

.. Ichthys..

Norman's Creek..

2005-07-04T22:34:00.000+02:00

Oscillating transitions
I become anything but me
like ghost from my dreams
to the shapes you've ever seen
quest that never completes
recoiled self as senses retreat
Heart and mind at odd ends that never meet
Real and surreal like
Phantom silhouette converge
and diverge as weak atoms
quantum self dissolute
in all axes
where I stood is jus an empty space
genesis sail with Noah's ark
with roots leading to this seed
and that dissolves to molecular warp
lost deep in this thinking - I stand
under autumn touched stem
towards sun-set end of Norman's Creek.

A scape from my dream...

Some Season..

2005-07-04T22:31:00.000+02:00

Some wild smell..in the crisp morning of a spring weekend from my boulevard. Its the first week of the spring, yes I could smell some mild orchid and damp soil. Dews that encumber leaves are fast drying up so on the grasses and from bushes. The warmth and the heat under the sun was unusually good, I’ve been under the same sun my entire life but never felt this way. There is something different about this spring. May be its the first spring after my cold winters, inside and out. Something is reborn, but season looks good and I'll keep this scribbling closer to that. If you feel the same about this spring probably we are in the same place, passed each other a few hundred times, down the alley near La Terrace, garden side of Cinquintannire or even at the jubel park..somewhere or nowhere..when surrounding is full and filled, I will be almost invisible and may be you were invisible as well. Good to feel non-existence.

Dads with sons and daughters, teaching cycle or football a common sight with the spring so is people running around with lesser clothes..we know what it is to get wrapped up under heavy fleece and jackets. I see fewer clouds in the skies, the haze is there though. A royal orange fabricating the edge of the inverted azure bowl, the aura is breath taking..leaves me at loss of words and alone on my sixth floor balcony facing the garden..some color, some smell and some sight….me, fathomable phantom ..am sharing this with my ubiquitous self.. slip of thoughts amid all this in search of something..and back to the gripping reality..

I run down to the park carrying some stuff along..spread out garden under pale blue sky with ash streak haze scattered ..I stretch my self on the mat, am pampered yes and i deserve to be..am not answerable to anybdy..I feel the satin blades beneath and the smell of orchids and tulips..head phones whisper Johann Sebastian's A minor (Triple Concerto), a 1730 creation, but its jus so mild enough to let chirping and noises to reach my ears. I am an ardent newtonian..I lay under the peach tree (no fruits yet), imagining it would sprout, bloom and ripen and fall closer to my head..no am not lazy..its respecting nature against abysmal time. Hands search for something in my bag and feels the fullness of the apple..bought that noon..so tasty ..Yes sinful indeed. Something far and above catches my eyes, straining, I raise my sights further into the hollow skies..streaks of gray lines splitting up the skies..clouds of dust like scars appear..hydrocarbon fuel and soot with oxides of nitrogen and carbon monoxides..or probably kerosene based fuel types like Jet-A1..whatever it was, it holds the same science of looking good and bad for everything else..in no time my skies weren’t one..they were two.. book beside with marker.. pages flutter with untamed breeze.."Treatise of great minds" by Leonardo da vinci..borrowed paper back, unread yet. The reality is too good to be true, so colorful as in caravaggio's works, realism or naturalism that can be felt by deceived eyes. Thoughts like vagabonds, has left me long back..mustave crossed stratos and feeling buoyant in the thermosphere..

Orange spectrum is brighter and closer now..Sebastian still playing..way down below with the body, Sins beside, pages still flip..reminding of a state different than dream..

Une ode au Amblève

2005-07-04T22:28:00.000+02:00

A sensuous touch on the nakedness
    Drenched in sweat
And we are wet
The heat in me as sin it flows
    As I plunge in you
This flesh of life is soaked
Bodies become solemnly one
    The cold dampness and mounds felt
Take us beyond this very step
Bodies quiver with cold embrace
    Under grasp of teasing finger’s rake
Sound of love
Heard yards away from woods
    Whispers of ecstasy
Like gyration of life from cosmic sea
Little aroused to be just a dream
    This spring bath in l'Ambleve stream

The Ambleve is a tributary of the Ourthe River, wholly contained within the province of Liege. It rises in the Hautes Fagnes region, then flows westward until it joins the Ourthe at Comblain au Pont.(Amblève River). This is the place where I go for Cave Exploration..she looks beautiful this spring..unforgettable trip.

Scribbles of the dead...

2005-07-04T22:25:00.000+02:00

A garden where no flower sprouts
   Strewn with withered and dead blossoms
Sanctuary of silence along these years
   Damp smell of dried up tears
Blue tungsten lit garden
   Gloomy, dull and scary
Pale, still and little life
   Creeps that entwine & devour
All those in its way like love
   Moon, she hides
In the leafless branches of the willows afar
   Dust carried by the west gale
Reach this mauve stone throne
   Upon that spiders cocoon
And four feet’s own
   The stones that speakth
Of him who lays beneath
   The flowers you left then,
Dried, intact and unique
   Below the English cross, moss green
Reminds of the time you came
   And for one last time seen..
A dream revived and written - Vinod 11 Apr 05

Mort Subite

2005-07-04T22:22:00.000+02:00

Stains of venom slide down
My chin and drip
Our lips depart as you drift
We evade conscious
To embrace stupor
Stares locked deep
Alluring souls inside
From moment paused
To having breathed
Eons slips into furrows
To vanish
Venus glistens
Under incandescent moon
In these arms, reveal
As buried faces retreat
'Am transmorgifing carcass
With your growing distance
Each step whispering
A different requiem
Grim reaper pries life
In your absence and in
seconds, delivering
sudden death..

....... Thin line of difference between life and death

One Last Time

2005-07-04T22:20:00.000+02:00

Confessions made
Across the heart
But in no impulse

Is it what we share?
When we refuse
To speak

Words said
Moments undone
And expanse of growing voids

May someday be dust
To dust
As ourselves will be

Yet I shalt confess
For one last time 'fore
Finding deep solace in sleep.

..confessions straight from the heart....again and ....again..

Rain

2005-07-04T22:18:00.000+02:00

A thousand dews and
Few thousand more
Like death and plague
Upon crestfallen you descend down
An adorable display
Of Joy and life
Eurhythmy of beings
In your rhythm divine
Footsteps heard on
Streets and sheets
Drenching souls
to salvation
That stands frozen
With eyes closed
As you taste saline
Flow of a million temples
Before reaching house of pain
In every touch the touch of god
Felt in you, pouring rain..

Sound of Silence

2005-07-04T22:14:00.000+02:00

In depths of your silence
  I find chaos pour inside
Unsettling thoughts about
  Things uttered
Separating souls in quay
  And souls sunk deep
Smothered by shadows
  Each in some mask unknown
Beseeching to free
  As myself beseech
Hell is where I am
  Standing amongst my many shadows
That pantomimes my story
  To all and to me - in silence
Let reckoning occur before
  I further dissolute and deform
By your mellifluous voice
  That devours silence
And your incandescence that
  Will resurrect me again
From the dark..
  Delivering from holds
Of ghastly devils
  To the arms of an

  Angel.

To your silence....

I (M/N) Complete

2005-07-04T22:02:00.000+02:00

Like e_bodim_nt of sca_t_red
clo_ds and contin_nts
D_spairin_ly coupl_d

Ev_n my nam_ at o_d
ends where y_ur's
start

I kn_w not what
it is to f_el l_ke
to be fu_l...

In ev_ry you
I will
be

Nonethele_s wit_out
You I'm
Int_restin_ly _ncomplete.

Twin Devil

2005-07-04T21:55:00.000+02:00

From deep slumber awakening.
  long silence, a silver voice
So a long pause-full stop..

Reckoning has happened
  across abysmal time
for me and for you

No different dreams we were
  but single solemn truth
In dark; In light

Words you breathe
  you will create
and so hath writ

In those, hides phenomenon
  And noumenons, eons ahead
of those works I did..

Your sanguine black eyes reflect
  that path of light - vision they call
Something I forever seek..

To bendatha... my sweet little devil..

Missing a Stranger

2005-07-04T21:43:00.000+02:00

One by one
  They all leave
    Some known and
  Most uncanny
Now a stranger
  She leaves
    Whom I know
  Couldn’t remember
Whom I see &
  Couldn’t feel
    Whom I'd listen
  Couldn’t talk
Stranger she is
  And will be
    Under many names
  Lies, unblemished heart
Stranger, hers, that is
  In due time
    She’ll soon be forgotten
  Or so but let me lie
For truth so many
I possess - bout a stranger
    Belowth pile of clay

When I die..

Watchmaker dream

2005-07-04T21:26:00.000+02:00

10 pm.

Present..Skies shed another skin. Day rests. Darkness fills everywhere..dark alone prevails. Vast and hollow..eternal.."the dark". Dizzy head and aching temples long for it..day has been a carousel ride..so has been life. I need to sleep tonight. Permanently.

With weary eyes I seek and fall on the half made bed..sinfully inviting..like your lips..in the willing cushion that takes me in, I surrender. For a moment before I dissolute into feeling nothing, I stare around..dark..retina filled with it and nothing else..long tresses that curtains my crestfallen face when am on your lap that is black...bla..now bleak..vision fades to a thin line in between the lids as my eyes seek solace under a skinny layer.......peace

...12 pm, Oberstrasse, busy as usual. Wet cobblestones echoing footsteps of passers by. Wind caress my neck..chill it is..a look right towards the crossing. School of Cadillac, Merz and Alfa Romeos. Engines still hustling and bustling. Rrrrrrrrm Rrrrrrrrm. Unsettling noises..Herrman Tags Zeitung, the news mart, hustles. Wind taking turns with the sheets of paper..sound of dry papers, distinctly heard from where I stand or may be, I hear them..Apotheek on my left and the Ruhe Cafe show little life.

I stare, stare at my reflection across the road at Uhrmans, the watch shop, 160 years old. Steiger, who looks too old for his age, from inside the shop waves. I walk towards the array of watches on the display. The Swiss made and few other vintages. The Audemars, Breitling, Bulgari, Rolex, Patek Philippe and so on.. Steiger, knows them all by their make history. I derive a sense of feeling that I am standing in the heart of Clockmakers Company, in UK. Oldest horological museum in the world. The shop smells old.Rusty. Stale smell of leather and sounds of thousand hands ticking. Some symmetrical.some synchronized. some frozen..like mine

His wrinkles on the forehead and round reading glasses speaks alot about his age...stripe pressed cotton waist and double tweed coat. Cream shirt and bow. 75-year-old horologist, meticulous from his mere appearance. Steiger. “Kann Ich Du Helfen”..rusty voice of Steiger breaks my cold stares from the shelf. Even before he finishes, I place my steel base leather strapped analog on the desk. Hands frozen..at 10 am. Victorinox, a Swiss made, white base & black dial. Frozen. Time frozen. Hands held tight. They don move anymore, its arrested, but not hand cuffed. No ticks. I continue staring at the shelf, while Steiger meddles with my watch under a watchcase wrench....
10 am on my watch, hands ticking as I jog towards the station. I need to catch the train. Another day. Missing a just zipped past rover. Am in hurry. So is everybody. Life no less ordinary..everywhere..shops, stalls, bus stops, cab stands, coffee shops jus everywhere. 10.12, it says, Victorinox. Time flies in the morning..does it rest later in the day..never.

Staring at the watch I miss another pole. Signpost reads ‘Oberstrasse’. The road I pass by everyday. Adjusting tie and jacket that has come off my shoulder to the quick morning sprint. I wait for the tram. Time doesn’t. Am Waiting.., those few minutes looks eternal. Am restless. Gazing and staring at familiar faces, armpit held newspapers, Starbucks cups and croissants. Far beyond behind the sweeper, it catches my eyes. The antique shop, with hand crafted wooden clock piece. Hung outside and above the entrance. The shop is closed. Name board has come off the rails and covers the clock, partially. Reads ‘Uhrmans’. Corrosive stains on the glass window & graffiti. Nothing is visible inside. Hmmm yes, read about this street, one of the towns oldest. Read it few days back on the Leuten Zeitung. Some place it must have been years back.

Some sense of belonging, may be am a regular wanderer in the morning. I claim nativity for those few moments I pass by.. Hmm but we don’t have time to repair watches these days. But some things are stuck to your skin and can be shredded. No not necessarily those inches deep. Hmmm some satisfaction. Some pride of being born in a different time. Superbia may be. Tram hasn't come yet. Uhrman board...rattatat tat..on the walls..hmmmm. What a pleasant morning breeze, I finger my hair from the forehead.

Brought it down before my eyes to read time... its not ticking.. 10.12 still.

Nail hitting thought about the dream I had last night..Hands frozen..this time mine..time flies. Am lost in world that separates real and surreal…….still.

..Rattatat tat.

Saturnine

2005-06-24T17:36:00.000+02:00

Sanguine little face
Oval and young
That's chiseled
To the depths
Of a cursed soul
Time slips past
And will continue
In whose treacherous spell
Genesis be old
Kingdoms and men be
Moss and dust
But what shalt remain
Point back in time
To memoirs, grass green
That face amongst
Many masks unveiled
Now, thought
Only a thought
To this grim faced

Saturnine..

Fullstop

2005-06-20T17:23:00.000+02:00

Juxtaposing contrapposto
of thoughts as words
Fingers at odds with head
scribbles on their own
on a parchment
with blood as ink
for every two lines writ
one, it strikes out
shredding 'nother parchment
like skin to start afresh..

fresh with preludes
and only to end with it
nothing beyond
In a book of
sophisticated words
an aberrant text
with exclamations
and questions
that leads to nothing
but a chapter's fullstop .

Lady of Shalott

2005-06-17T17:37:00.000+02:00

Lady of Shalott and the lost look.. .the state most of us are in..

..different rivers..different destiny..

Pattern of Change

2005-04-14T17:40:00.000+02:00

Life is an exhaustive series of events, each of which is tightly coupled with 'change'. Does this change have a particular pattern to be studied and understood, well to an extent it can be. This is not some wayward post on some gibberish topic, neither it is something meaningful. Surprised and confused, don't be, the more we try to contemplate on what life holds for us at the cross roads, the more we are mislead and deceived. At a day as it comes, yep sounds hedonistic, well I wont go that far calling it hedonistic, its more of living a sensible life.

~GOD (Grand Ol' disseminator)