rainy reflections

Shall we not rejoice that another day has passed.The glimmer in the distant star that's fading in front of my drowsy eyes make the approaching daylight more poignant,more mysterious.Speechless,I often wonder,are the hours before the daybreak--heralding a day filled with activity and choatic murkiness.Not every silence is so beautiful.I wonder why.Maybe the stars that are dying as the arrogant sun raises his powerful head in the horizon,are singing a sweet melodious tune.The fading moon orchestrates a requiem.There is a subdude vibrancy in this hour.Death of another day,and the birth of a new one.The cycle is neverending.The small raindrops are the tears which the clouds shed.Too heavy their hearts with the infinite melancholy of the turgid earthlings.Amidst the little droplets that flock to the glass of my window,obscuring my complete view..I witness my own face.The little droplets seem to be my own tears as I stare blankly at the glass.it's a face unadorned with emotions,a tired face is what I see.And I tremble with fear in my innermost depths.The tip of the ciggarate looks so alive in the glass reflection.A small fire reminicent of the fire that glows in me.A small fire which is slowly consuming the thin package in which it burns.The ash falls.The glass window is too crowded with the tiny droplets now.I can't see my own reflection anymore.There is a silent drop which just fell on my hand.I am startled.It came from my eye.

A love letter(visit me in dreams)

Their icy glares mean nothing. Meet me in dreams as sleep runs through our veins, and we will traverse worlds that lie beyond the shadows of these tear-stained skies and scar-scattered skies. Where with hearts as full as moons we will soar to songs made of eternally sparkling spires, carefully etched with the truths of our universe and with the unspoken sonnets of lasting love. We will find infinity in small spaces and we will understand previously concealed meanings with the kind of lucidity once believed impossible. We will dance bathed in light as the dark and dilated pupil of night watches on, in cold and distant silence.
And we shall dance,rejoice in each other.Two solitary dancers,or one?And then we would lose ourselves and be the dance.And the infinite gazes of the million stars would watch us in wonder.Draping our naked flesh in their soft milky light and we shall feel safe.Safe in each other and the light will kindle in our hearts,warming and melting the ice that would eventually drown us in oceans of love..those frozen pieces.And then will you come with me flying to a new territory.And we shall break our chains even from the stars.And find our home in pitch darkness.Where I would shine in your light and you will shine in mine

I shall visit you in the morpheous of dreams

Withering Flowers

There is a sense of irony in what I am going to write.The happiness which is so sacred to all of us,always brings with it a sense of clinging.And I wonder what great longing is there amongst us mortals over this slippery delusion called happiness.It's so touching and so beautiful--our longing.I always find people loving flowers.Bright cheerful flowers which are adorned with dewdrops in the morning bring involuntary smiles in the hearts of people.I was passing by this garden this beautiful evening.The flowers stood in their grandeour,proudly looking at the sun--sun which was obscured by the clouds.They looked pretty and arrogant.And I seemed to love them.And then I saw on the edge some old flowers..yellow in their age and brittle in their wisdom.Bowing heads.Those beautiful withering flowers.I loved them even more.Their bowed heads were not bowed in shame.It was an understanding that pride just hurts one's neck.No one loves withering flowers.Someone has to like them.

Someone has to find happiness and more.

I choose myself to be that ONE.

Contrasts

I am tired.And yet in my tired state of consciousness I am typing at the keys of the computer.The cold weather always has this aura of making me tired.I think I am just finding scapegoats.Oh well,weather seems to be a nice pick.It won't be pointing it's fingers at me and shout "It's your fault."...did i hear a thunder outside?.The strange lethargy that has engulfed me also gives me a hidden sense of comfort I reckon.As I look around my room,the dim lights and the strange soft and almost whispering music of Pink Floyd and the marron colours of the carpet makes the light coming out of the computer screen stand in stark contrast.I like to look away from the screen from time to time,soaking in the hues of the enviornment and the music.How desolate life would be without a contrast.It's only the sharp glow which comes from the screen makes the surrounding appear more soothing than they really are.The absolute tiredness makes the dream of a fresh morning all the more lucid.The seemless allpervasive apathy makes the few stolen moments of happines linger all the more forever.I love the contrasts.

The clouds are thundering again ..almost cutting down the voice of Roger Waters singing ~~ who are you and who am I, to know the reason why.Some men born and some men die,beneath one infinite sky.There be war and there be peace.And everything one day will cease.All the iron turn to rust,all the good men turn to dust.All things one day will mend,so this song will end~~

And so this piece ends.

Catty Smiles

Sometimes it just takes a very small gesture to feel loved.And come to think of it life is full of these small moments which go unnoticed in the blur of activites our tiny brains are thinking up.And suddenly a jolt comes,which shake us of our mechanical zombieness,makes us realise the interconnectedness of our beings.I was watching my little cat playing cheerfully with a small ball in my living room.I was sitting placidly on the sofa,smoking my last piece of cigarette,and thinking of things.I was being envious of the abandon of the little creature,eyeing her with growing discomfort.I threw the ashtray at her,the glass ashtray breaking with a violent noise and jostling her for a moment.She looked at me,as if surprised at my anger,and I could see the fear in her eyes.At that instant I felt a limitless remorse..my heart going heavy and dark and angry at myself for interrupting her joyful playing.She didn't move and kept looking at me.I wanted to pick her up and sit her on my lap,saying sorry to her.But I was dead tired and exhausted with my manic-depressive attacks.I kept sitting on the sofa.She moved slowly towards me and before I could move my hand to call her..she was on my lap,licking my face as if telling me "I know you are one angry,violent and stupid man.i love you still".My eyes almost welled up with tears.Such moments are so rare.I had a good sleep last night.

man is the dream of butterflies

Behold
Behold the wonder of a sweet smile
the sunshine of the Gods
and the twilight of a fading life
no more are the tears--of pain.

Awake
Awake to a dream of fancy
where the lullabys are soft
and the realities of the deep wounds
shimmer and mingle into our deepest pasts.

Dread
Don't you feel a dread too?
The scents of a barren land
seeth into the webs of beauty
and I breathe,still smiling--sweetly.

Dance
Dance to a tune of a distant festival
and the glory of our spirits
drift into the flowing rivers
awash with the freshness of a start.

And then when it comes to it all
it's all a great circle
the endless rivers,the ceaseless murmer
the golden memories,and falling butterflies
wings torn,and yet they look into the sky
to fly,to not die---to smile
.
Aren't we all falling butterflies.?

Poem in E minor

Along the swirling trees of lonesome pain
A leaf glittered and sighed
Without a raindrop of salty tears
The weeping willow cried
Come hither now, you sacred one
The oceans roar and shout
The seagulls look in lazy ease
Behold! my soul it flies.
And free I roam--above the stars
happy as a dream
fructured lives and bleeding pasts
in cocoons of the mist.
For all the angels and all who're not
I clap my hands with glee
they sing a song of cheerful mirth
their tears float in the winds.
I will not drown in apathy
I will not burn in flames
I will rise from the newborn ashes
I will be happy again