the sea witnessed two lovers
made deaf by the questions the confused wind asked them.
looking in each others eyes they stood,
touched and overwhelmed every now and then
by the passionate waves surging to tell them,
and then withdrawing silently and gently,
leaving them on their own.

the setting sun caused anxieties,
threatening and promising at one and the same time.
they anticipated a night full of love and starry dreams,
and feared getting lost in a night dark and lonesome.
in a moment they had each other
and in another lost sense of why they were there.

a cruel or benevolent fate looked at them
stand there helpless, like two wet little birds
unable to fly, unable to dry.

he saw the love in her eyes, she saw it in his.
never for once did they find it inside.
like a yet uncut diamond it laid there somewhere and gathered dust.

they talked and listened,
they laughed and cried,
ignoring and doubting perpetually the treasure they had.

it laid there in the sands.
and one day was washed away.


the sun set the eyes lost contact and the night came.

i still see them on the beach looking among pebbles upon the shore, searching for something.
they act as if they don't know each other, still wet but without each other.
i still think if the uncut diamond was meant for them..
but one thing is for sure - for once it was theirs to be had.

they are still confused, the wind still asks them questions, and they still have no answers.

those who can love can also forgive and forget. and those who can forgive and forget can never turn to stone. i want to be a stone.. but i don't want to stop loving.

being...

drown in the green sea of formlessness.
darken the presence of light.
close my eyes.
close to being dead.
in my death alive.

consciousness fades away,
and every pore on my body gains it.
it becomes alive and desires.
unstoppable as an object i finally
become a subject.
untouched by thoughts, fearless.
like a beast in an act of hunt.

an element of desire and destruction,
of birth, and of decay,
both unpleasant and unacceptable.

pointless the struggle is to wrench meanings out.

consume and forget.
desire and get.

march 20, 2009

oh how i forget things! .. good that i forget..otherwise to move over past is not very easy. like miss havisham i can lay a pip's hand on my heart and say its broken. don't say nice things sweetheart..they are tragic now. ironical. they barely mean anything. having by now become empty. hopelessness? should i be hopeless? to fall is easy. i must not close the window. let the fresh air come in. madness is slowly seeping in. but i must rise. rise out of ashes. a phoenix. because that's what i am. i feel all. i allowed myself to feel. but do i really feel? if i decide to i can feel nothing. but would that be betraying you? violins don't play unless you don;t want them to play. or do they really play? everything is shaking..my bed..table books..vision..hands..room, and there is no sound. there is no language for true emotions. i will come out. like i did last time. i will forget.. like the last time.. like delicate tokens of rememberances memories get locked up in fluffy darkness. hurled down the abyss with tenderness and pain..remembered with a sense of estrangeness from the self.

should i hope sweetheart? this time i will. will you turn back?
yes you will. yes you will. yes you will.
sleep is already taking over me. its getting cold. should i close the windows?
i will forget soon.
no. i will smile. i will hope, because i know we are meant to be.

smile..

A sinking captain of a sinking ship

Sunlight blinds my eyes and ignominy my visage

Sea water in my eyes

Maddening silence in my ears

Or perhaps I have gone deaf

That I can not hear the clamour of refusal coming from the sea.

All I have is a sinking feeling

That too sinks with me.

Unable to belong anywhere

My tears too float

May be they are denser

Or may be they are just dense..

Love..stubbed out

Love like a cigarette burns,
To ashes my heart turns.

With time the flame dies,
Stubbed out on an ashtray love lies.

Wounds black and grey spattered,
Pieces of my ashen heart scattered.

Stifling pain hangs dense in air,
Passion freezes into a meaningless stare.

I try hard to make sense of what lies before me,
But smoke and only smoke fills eternity.

Like a cruel heart I kick dead dogs,
And put to fire lifeless hopes.

Caught between knowing and not knowing I gradually perish,
Like smoke I hang mysteriously in air and vanish.

Another day ends just like the last one,
Another cigarette burns just like the last burn.

resurrection

resurrection

Death came unannounced to the dog
that lay dead near the car.
so alive
his dead form.
and i see him lifting his head now
turning it slightly in the direction of his mourner
he might have wagged his tale as well
contented to have a mourner.
but hey who mourns dead dogs here!

the mourner looked once
and walked away mumbling
"why don't they pick him up!"
and throw him somewhere he can not be seen.

of course dead dogs should not rot here.

and the dog was dead again.
and i wrote a poem about it.
of course who mourns dead dogs here.