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.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
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.
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.
everybody says i'm fine
everybody says i'm fine
sick and rude i feel
forcibily being forged by the chisels of the time pass world.
and the eyes i meet are the eyes of hollow sheepish dreams.
and faces are masks melting away from the heat of life.
afraid anxious nervous -- "nooo! nothing's wrong!" "everything is fine!"
they drip and drip and drip of pretentious happiness.
a happiness they never understand
a happiness made up of cloudy smiles.
essences bleed and drops fall unceasingly like silent mountains.
"i'm happy!" "i'm sooo happy!" "noooo!" "yaaa!" "byeee!"
"hiiii!" "shit!" "he he he he!"
they have all covered their eyes with slime.
and they dream mechanized dreams,
like music boxes--
"you open them, they a play a nice tune, you be happy and 'cool'!"
"everyone has them man!"
i better have one soon too
i better have one soon too!
and break it to pieces into their faces!
i don't sleep anymore.
I DON'T SLEEP ANYMORE PEOPLE!
follow follow follow follow.... keep following...
"they ain't doin what they like man!"
so what? what's the big deal in that! do you know what you like?
do you? really?
and the circus goes on...
of course, the show must go on.
of course.
"never mind how sick it is!"
"cooochie pooh!"
"everyone is watching it!"
"don't you see!"
i'm sick.
sick and rude i feel
forcibily being forged by the chisels of the time pass world.
and the eyes i meet are the eyes of hollow sheepish dreams.
and faces are masks melting away from the heat of life.
afraid anxious nervous -- "nooo! nothing's wrong!" "everything is fine!"
they drip and drip and drip of pretentious happiness.
a happiness they never understand
a happiness made up of cloudy smiles.
essences bleed and drops fall unceasingly like silent mountains.
"i'm happy!" "i'm sooo happy!" "noooo!" "yaaa!" "byeee!"
"hiiii!" "shit!" "he he he he!"
they have all covered their eyes with slime.
and they dream mechanized dreams,
like music boxes--
"you open them, they a play a nice tune, you be happy and 'cool'!"
"everyone has them man!"
i better have one soon too
i better have one soon too!
and break it to pieces into their faces!
i don't sleep anymore.
I DON'T SLEEP ANYMORE PEOPLE!
follow follow follow follow.... keep following...
"they ain't doin what they like man!"
so what? what's the big deal in that! do you know what you like?
do you? really?
and the circus goes on...
of course, the show must go on.
of course.
"never mind how sick it is!"
"cooochie pooh!"
"everyone is watching it!"
"don't you see!"
i'm sick.
catch22
how can i be honest to this piece of paper down to the last bit? how can i put down the small and the large webs of conversations that i have with my own self when i, most of the time, am not conscious or semi-conscious of them? how can i give them a vent, a wild natural opening and a space so that they can come out as they are in their pristine most state? how can i be conscious of the unconscious or the sub conscious when the moment i become, or try to become, conscious of them they are no longer the part of the unconscious?
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