Friday, February 17, 2006


When the designs of a greater God imply we must flow,who are we to resist.A thousand helium balloons suspened midair without chords.The utter uselessness of such existence!.And such tranquility.Neither the great journey upwards now the limp decent downwards is liked.To break a perfect synchronity is ugly.But the ecstacy of being free is beautiful.The trajectory maybe wayward and the end near as the helium esacpes,but the abandon is worth it.Eventually the lone balloon will fall down and will be scorned by the assortment who never fell,never feel and never flew.They however will never know the pleasure of heights.It's not the point.The point is,breaking free is ugly.The gaps make the bunch look ridiculous.And unity is strength.No wind shakes the united.They stand proud,protected and secure.

Monday, February 06, 2006

Farewell my love.

For all the golden silences
don't you sit alone and stare,too
visit the rumble again
and again in the mindfields.
Poppies flutter and dust flows
vast arid landscapes
where many a green memories
and discolored photograps sleep.
Razor sharp stains,deep and red
I think I heard a laugh
a lovely crecent,reminicent of love
When love turns to stone
and stones to dust,a shadow flies
halts and decends and cries
A weeping child a brooding man
an eclactic mix.
Vibrancy is the state of my mind
and madness is abandoned
For all her shouts,the disowned
bastard child must die a lonely death
A death she planned for me.
Goodbye old lover.Good riddance.

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Lust and Love

Feels a little safer now,soft cushion safety.How many lies lurk beneath the ultimate truth.And every smattering of a libidinous desire confronts a dead end of unquenched thirst.Is that someone i'd bed tomorrow too or i'd be too bored?.Is this a sign of life or a sign of deadness,to not want?.Love still sits in her shrine,a dark glow around her.She is innocent in her virginty,the pure of her blood staining her from the insides.And she is dull,restless and beautiful.Almost fragile,except the fire in her which makes her a little quirky.Ofcourse they would misunderstand her.The Gods would be clubbed with devils.Thats what they always wanted it.The line between God and the Devil to be decimated.Slowly she raises her eyes and I see a look of laughter.She mocks at them and confides in me.I kill myself everytime I go for such casual adventures and with an expertness of experience,I make it appear happy.Such lies i am capable of.

In motion I looked under the stars
Sheets of dark stain,moist
are they the acts of love of war
or venting pain the vacant eyes hoist.

I suck at rhyming.But they make me.And thats the only thing that matters.