The fluster and the rustle
The attractive inviting green
The subtle elegance erudite elegance
Even a leaf wants to be somebody
The clamor on the roofs
The chill in the air
The smell of fresh soil
Even the rain wants to be somebody
The buzz around your ear
The song of interrupted beats
A sting and the tickle
Even the mosquito wants to be somebody
The bolster of the world
The heart of every concrete
The mother of civilization
Even the brick wants to be somebody
The carpet of flickers
The timer of rest hours
The blanket of warmth
Even the Night wants to be somebody
Looking out for attention
Wanting love from everyone
A pat on the back for every nuance
Even I want to be somebody
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
On a moment in heaven...
The shadow of the moonlight
And the fragrance of buds
She lay there still as the stream
With the lights caressing the curves
The shiver of the alien
The whisper of an unknown tongue
The creased sheets waited
Till the cloud of passion set in
Soft purrs blew the horns
Quivers gave way to tumble
The moment was of rhythm and motion
And the dashing of flesh
I drank the wine divine
She played the whistling tune
Together we discovered
What a joyride means
The pace was ecstatic
The ambience cuddling in
For a moment we attained
What ambrosia and manna meant
Every moment was of wistful blue
But so was the déjà vu
A walk in the meadows
And yet every sight refreshed
Wilting like a bow
She strung the arrow up
We pained to keep it there
And then went the chimes
Drops of energy moistened
Like fresh dew on a morning
The Sun was out and bright
But we cuddled and slept in tight
And the fragrance of buds
She lay there still as the stream
With the lights caressing the curves
The shiver of the alien
The whisper of an unknown tongue
The creased sheets waited
Till the cloud of passion set in
Soft purrs blew the horns
Quivers gave way to tumble
The moment was of rhythm and motion
And the dashing of flesh
I drank the wine divine
She played the whistling tune
Together we discovered
What a joyride means
The pace was ecstatic
The ambience cuddling in
For a moment we attained
What ambrosia and manna meant
Every moment was of wistful blue
But so was the déjà vu
A walk in the meadows
And yet every sight refreshed
Wilting like a bow
She strung the arrow up
We pained to keep it there
And then went the chimes
Drops of energy moistened
Like fresh dew on a morning
The Sun was out and bright
But we cuddled and slept in tight
On imagination or lack of it ...
A picture tube with a million stories,
A click away from sundry knowledge,
I lost my ability in the mountains and trees,
To work my way through every wedge.
They tell me what I need to do,
Back a tell with many a ream,
I stop to wonder and belch a moo,
Need I know or it should always seem.
My tourage has gates and boulder,
Grey is surrounded by a ugly moat,
The plank across is too much to shoulder,
Green is where they painted the note.
Free from the shackles of an open mind,
I learn to obey and accept the line,
Where ideas are not there to bind,
I never sense a tear or a whine.
With no burden but to align,
I live through in calm and peace,
Imagination a forgotten wine,
Never to mix up with my peace.
A click away from sundry knowledge,
I lost my ability in the mountains and trees,
To work my way through every wedge.
They tell me what I need to do,
Back a tell with many a ream,
I stop to wonder and belch a moo,
Need I know or it should always seem.
My tourage has gates and boulder,
Grey is surrounded by a ugly moat,
The plank across is too much to shoulder,
Green is where they painted the note.
Free from the shackles of an open mind,
I learn to obey and accept the line,
Where ideas are not there to bind,
I never sense a tear or a whine.
With no burden but to align,
I live through in calm and peace,
Imagination a forgotten wine,
Never to mix up with my peace.
On drifting into intoxication
A feeling crept in with silent paws,
Peace covered the waves of acid rain,
Mind lulled to a faraway loss,
Thoughts drifted beyond the pain.
Troubles were lost in a goblet of wine,
Senses were pampered with each swig,
The sea was calm as a silent shrine,
Silence cried out to a leaf and a twig.
A drop balanced on the tip of a circle,
A message came of an empty tune,
The violin strings froze to a tingle,
The rumblings began in the mind dune.
A gush of grapes and a whiff of life,
Many a bubble to the rising fire,
Smoke went up as a docile friend,
A floating yacht moved into its lair.
Gulps and swallows followed in random,
The balance went on the passion,
Life dulled to a faraway tune,
Oblivion eased into intoxication.
Peace covered the waves of acid rain,
Mind lulled to a faraway loss,
Thoughts drifted beyond the pain.
Troubles were lost in a goblet of wine,
Senses were pampered with each swig,
The sea was calm as a silent shrine,
Silence cried out to a leaf and a twig.
A drop balanced on the tip of a circle,
A message came of an empty tune,
The violin strings froze to a tingle,
The rumblings began in the mind dune.
A gush of grapes and a whiff of life,
Many a bubble to the rising fire,
Smoke went up as a docile friend,
A floating yacht moved into its lair.
Gulps and swallows followed in random,
The balance went on the passion,
Life dulled to a faraway tune,
Oblivion eased into intoxication.
Monday, September 1, 2008
On understanding...
There are moments of angst when
The memories rip through the surface
Ushering disdain and chill
Sour and pungent thoughts…
The actions that denied
Any shred of love or belonging
The Words that evoked
Hatred and putrid minds
Seconds of dark clouds
The onslaught of mocking vibes
Glances which belie numbness
And resoluteness of never wanting more
But we still go on
The storm always tides over
The softness still enters
The smiles come riding in
Is it always so easy I thought
That there is light after every night
The sunshine always return
Mirth embellishes the mind
Do lovers always forget?
The bad days, the ugly words
The moments of hatred
The aura of unreasonables
Then I realized the truth,
We do not always forget the bad days,
We do not pretend it did not happen
But we just forgive each other
The memories rip through the surface
Ushering disdain and chill
Sour and pungent thoughts…
The actions that denied
Any shred of love or belonging
The Words that evoked
Hatred and putrid minds
Seconds of dark clouds
The onslaught of mocking vibes
Glances which belie numbness
And resoluteness of never wanting more
But we still go on
The storm always tides over
The softness still enters
The smiles come riding in
Is it always so easy I thought
That there is light after every night
The sunshine always return
Mirth embellishes the mind
Do lovers always forget?
The bad days, the ugly words
The moments of hatred
The aura of unreasonables
Then I realized the truth,
We do not always forget the bad days,
We do not pretend it did not happen
But we just forgive each other
On lying down alone...
I stared at the ceiling
A crack creeping on the yellow
The mount of a serpentine tent
An escape for the seeping
The walls sang the same elegy
There were dunes everywhere
Was I on a bed cavorting?
Or living a cold night in the Sahara?
The bouncing of monsoons
And the glee of the rustling leaves
While nature danced to the windy tunes
I lay with sundry thoughts of her
Loneliness can be like the leakage
Seeping inevitably into the mind
The pillows whispered into the ears
And bugs sneered at you
The rains poured further
The cracks grew to new designs
I still lay there
Measuring ennui closing in
A crack creeping on the yellow
The mount of a serpentine tent
An escape for the seeping
The walls sang the same elegy
There were dunes everywhere
Was I on a bed cavorting?
Or living a cold night in the Sahara?
The bouncing of monsoons
And the glee of the rustling leaves
While nature danced to the windy tunes
I lay with sundry thoughts of her
Loneliness can be like the leakage
Seeping inevitably into the mind
The pillows whispered into the ears
And bugs sneered at you
The rains poured further
The cracks grew to new designs
I still lay there
Measuring ennui closing in
A moment in heaven...
The shadow of the moonlight
And the fragrance of buds
She lay there still as the stream
With the lights caressing the curves
The shiver of the alien
The whisper of an unknown tongue
The creased sheets waited
Till the cloud of passion set in
Soft purrs blew the horns
Quivers gave way to tumble
The moment was of rhythm and motion
And the dashing of flesh
I drank the wine divine
She played the whistling tune
Together we discovered
What a joyride means
The pace was ecstatic
The ambience cuddling in
For a moment we attained
What ambrosia and manna meant
Every moment was of wistful blue
But so was the déjà vu
A walk in the meadows
And yet every sight refreshed
Wilting like a bow
She strung the arrow up
We pained to keep it there
And then went the chimes
Drops of energy moistened
Like fresh dew on a morning
The Sun was out and bright
But we cuddled and slept in tight
And the fragrance of buds
She lay there still as the stream
With the lights caressing the curves
The shiver of the alien
The whisper of an unknown tongue
The creased sheets waited
Till the cloud of passion set in
Soft purrs blew the horns
Quivers gave way to tumble
The moment was of rhythm and motion
And the dashing of flesh
I drank the wine divine
She played the whistling tune
Together we discovered
What a joyride means
The pace was ecstatic
The ambience cuddling in
For a moment we attained
What ambrosia and manna meant
Every moment was of wistful blue
But so was the déjà vu
A walk in the meadows
And yet every sight refreshed
Wilting like a bow
She strung the arrow up
We pained to keep it there
And then went the chimes
Drops of energy moistened
Like fresh dew on a morning
The Sun was out and bright
But we cuddled and slept in tight
On the 'Celebration of life'...
A shower of blossoms flirted in vacant air,
A muse of mirth overflowed into the ambience,
Beads of laughter echoed in abandon care,
Beatitude blessed in every human sense.
Minutes tickled the passion to live,
Hours brought in the blues of the yonder,
Clocks gifted the bouquets to give,
A future with more glee and wonder.
Blessed were the souls I met in the past,
Kind were the hearts that sang me songs,
Sonnets lulled my memories vast,
And time was filled with hearts and throngs.
A canary chirped a sweet wish,
And branches danced to a wanton tune,
Paricles waltzed when the dust came in swish,
And earth orchestrated the whirl of grime.
Nature’s symphony was at its best,
The flora blended in without rife,
The sun opened its benign chest,
And God played “ The clebration of life”.
A muse of mirth overflowed into the ambience,
Beads of laughter echoed in abandon care,
Beatitude blessed in every human sense.
Minutes tickled the passion to live,
Hours brought in the blues of the yonder,
Clocks gifted the bouquets to give,
A future with more glee and wonder.
Blessed were the souls I met in the past,
Kind were the hearts that sang me songs,
Sonnets lulled my memories vast,
And time was filled with hearts and throngs.
A canary chirped a sweet wish,
And branches danced to a wanton tune,
Paricles waltzed when the dust came in swish,
And earth orchestrated the whirl of grime.
Nature’s symphony was at its best,
The flora blended in without rife,
The sun opened its benign chest,
And God played “ The clebration of life”.
On what to write...
I wondered why I never wrote
Why the pens dragged along
The blocks seemed mountains
And the lexicon always failed
Perhaps a sequel to a comic
But Archie is in a septuagenarian
Phantom is long buried
Tintin has already been canned
Perhaps a soap
But sex and incest will only thrive
Only mundane can conquer
And couch potatoes have to swallow
Perhaps a family saga
But ‘Roots’ have rotted
‘Glass palace’ has cracks
And there is no ‘ god for large things’
Perhaps an autobiography
But I never experimented with truth
Never was close to a Mein Kampf
And never had a tryst with destiny
Perhaps that is why
I need to see and breathe
Wait for the wistful sorrow
And an unfulfilled dream
Why the pens dragged along
The blocks seemed mountains
And the lexicon always failed
Perhaps a sequel to a comic
But Archie is in a septuagenarian
Phantom is long buried
Tintin has already been canned
Perhaps a soap
But sex and incest will only thrive
Only mundane can conquer
And couch potatoes have to swallow
Perhaps a family saga
But ‘Roots’ have rotted
‘Glass palace’ has cracks
And there is no ‘ god for large things’
Perhaps an autobiography
But I never experimented with truth
Never was close to a Mein Kampf
And never had a tryst with destiny
Perhaps that is why
I need to see and breathe
Wait for the wistful sorrow
And an unfulfilled dream
On the death of imagination...
A picture tube with a million stories,
A click away from sundry knowledge,
I lost my ability in the mountains and trees,
To work my way through every wedge.
They tell me what I need to do,
Back a tell with many a ream,
I stop to wonder and belch a moo,
Need I know or it should always seem.
My tourage has gates and boulder,
Grey is surrounded by a ugly moat,
The plank across is too much to shoulder,
Green is where they painted the note.
Free from the shackles of an open mind,
I learn to obey and accept the line,
Where ideas are not there to bind,
I never sense a tear or a whine.
With no burden but to align,
I live through in calm and peace,
Imagination a forgotten wine,
Never to mix up with my peace.
A click away from sundry knowledge,
I lost my ability in the mountains and trees,
To work my way through every wedge.
They tell me what I need to do,
Back a tell with many a ream,
I stop to wonder and belch a moo,
Need I know or it should always seem.
My tourage has gates and boulder,
Grey is surrounded by a ugly moat,
The plank across is too much to shoulder,
Green is where they painted the note.
Free from the shackles of an open mind,
I learn to obey and accept the line,
Where ideas are not there to bind,
I never sense a tear or a whine.
With no burden but to align,
I live through in calm and peace,
Imagination a forgotten wine,
Never to mix up with my peace.
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