Let me go.

There is yet a place which is mine,
For me to float and hide.
Where dark swirls of serenity soothe
The tremors of a foolish mind.

the golden girl

She haunts like a ghost,
Wanders these halls lost.
Her misty dreamy eyes.
Twinkling like fireflies.

She deals in coins and gold
And snatches my soul.
Nameless, silent and fair,
There's fire in her hair.

No respite, no redemption -
For the time for words is past.
Am I just a coward ?
Or a mere stranger to her ways.

No smoke, no spirit can soothe
This dull burning despair.
Stellar dreams placate
An aching heart tonight.

A momentous lesson

I wonder who I am to thank
For this gift of deemed normality,
I think of what forces were at play,
And what drove the hands that crafted me.

We barely know the plight of those
Whom nature has rendered incomplete.
We cant do better than to ponder why,
They tend to nod to a different beat.

No doubt they're gifted with a mind that dreams
Of high skies and of happy things
The wind that blows to goad it seems,
While they stay down chained by wooden wings.

Perhaps the early ones that were
They shunned the laws of holy creation.
Only to awaken the great maker's ire -
Souls thus forged from an angry fire.

Perhaps they stay on, in deep despair
As a cruel token of our misdeeds.
To remind us to be grateful and fair,
To be hubmle at heart, to live and let be.

My brain in blank and white

Head is full with
Storms of uncertainty,
Gripping Vices,
And falling pillars of faith.

I'm headed east
Down a black road,
Into the woods
To find the mountains.

Thinking on the move - Shot at Redemption

Every once in a while I open the gates to my private hell and let my demons consume me. Chewed up and spit out, I'm usually at the top of yet another saw-tooth peak, post the ordeal. The will to restrain from knowingly harming myself is lacking in me. I guess Billy Joel spoke for a lot of people in saying "I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints". In the long term its a trade off. If I were to put the philosophy of Karma in a nutshell, there is no wrong-doing that will go unpunished and no good deed which is not duly rewarded. What is inherently wrong and right though, is a question that's not easily answered for everyone. From a bird's eye perspective, its pretty simple to define this in a pedantic way. But a pragmatic person may find this view conflicting in many ways.

Lost in such meandering thoughts, I am usually utterly confused and dabble at many passing interests while always trying to search for that one passion that will someday define me. As a dear person once said, "maybe we're all incomplete". Yes, we are incomplete indeed. There is no room for completion in the human world. We're all negotiating an asymptotic locus in search of a culmination that's nowhere in sight. The only difference is how far each one of is and will eventually end up from being consummate, when our time does come.

I already have a definition here, but I'm not too sure if that's what I set out to be. Very few people are meant to become something - the majority become the one thing they work towards. It all comes down to what we know and how well we know it because at the end of the day, knowledge is the true measure of one's potential. The desire to read, observe, practice and learn is ever present in me, but severely lack the drive and desperation to follow this yearning into satisfactory execution. The most gripping fear I hide is that of ending up a dabbler, and in a due time, a quack for the sake of livelihood. With this long due confession I'm at the beginning of yet another attempt at what I believe to be true redemption. We'll see how this goes.

.....

An exploding heart..beats within..
blood no more, its a river of red.
biding its time,
i'm whiling away mine.

A bleeding brain, sits deranged,
words no more, they're fragments
of stinging pain,
unsettling and overwhelming.

The ruthless clock ticks away,
minutes no more, they're vicious needles,
meant to stitch,
but clawing deeper, a gaping gash.

will you ever know?
will it ever show?
this endearing affliction
you so unwittingly conjured?

Qualms and Complaints

Swept from pillar to post,
We trudge along like ghosts,
A dollar more perhaps,
But none the richer we get.

----------------------------------------

Information makes me sore,
The grapevine gives some more
Playing along, buying money with time
Playing along, to make it all mine.

----------------------------------------

Where is my heaven now?
Whither do I head?
Can I not just build it here
And regale myself instead?

Bunch o' my brain - Winds.

They crumble by themselves,
Those walls of caution,
And the winds of carefree love,
Waltz into your brain.

Fettered still, they linger there,
Your sword, all set to kill.
Clanking chains are severed deep
And the mind sways again giddy and free..

To the moon...

When reality knocks too hard,
And the world scars my skin,
The only words that ever makes sense,
Is the rant my brain conjures.

When insomnia strikes a match,
To burn the night ever so slow,
I tend to colour my blacks
With shades of grey and blue.

It is indeed my escapist friend
Who rescues my cold senses,
When I 'm rendered unconscious
By the fumes of today's toil.

When fair skies fail to lighten
The heavy heart that beats,
What then is left to do?
Where can the lonely go?

When restraint is a shadow,
That wanes with the fading light,
I run to my filthy corner
And hide behind the haze.

When obligations hold me fast
And remind me of my defecit,
I let my words enthrall me,
And propel me to the moon.

Eatable Quotes - Infinity

Think long enough and digression becomes the norm.

In the name of life..

The friends we make,
The songs we sing.
All the colours that are
And the flowers that were.

Every coin we own
Every piece of land we dont,
All the stories untold
And the kings and their courts.

For every beetle that buzzed
And all the sciences we learned
For those days of concern
And the bombs that rang.

Every puzzle unsolved
All the bridges that crumbled
Every ounce of determination
And every cowardly act.

Every angry rebuke
All the splashing water
The hordes off laughter
And the murders in vain

All the ties we've made
And the chill of the winds
All the names we've called
And the stars we reach for.

Every word of wisdom
And every cry of pain
All the blood and the strife,
The things we do, in the name of life.

Plea

I live in the sigh,
Of your free wheeling mind.
And I huddle in the shade
Of your caressing boughs.

Grow me a memory
And make it shine bright.
You cut all my wings
And still, You make me fly.

Its neither my time
Nor is the dime.
You are my song,
My blood and my rhyme.

Take me for what I am
And for what I will be,
Take all my joys cause they,
Are no longer for me.

Let me live in the sights
Of your glistening eyes
And hide from the world
In your warmth and embrace.

Sow me a garden
And let it bloom forth.
Let the winds seek our way
And come drifting to us.

Basic doubts

Weary and lost -
Eyes bleary and dark.
What's my role here?
Where do I leave my mark?

No sudden reprieve
Or heroic demise.
Just the dull thudding
Of a spineless surmise.

Slipping away
Yes, I'm sliding on down.
Feeding on thought,
Yet eaten within and beyond..

Momentary lapse
Of a life force that wanes.
Only to materialize
As another victim of disdain.

Hopes and images
Flitting by fast.
Envy, my ride;
Faithful alibi, grandiose pride.

Worthless words
In an estranged mind.
Does it really matter
What I earn or who I find?

Crinkled skin and a life later
Where will my thoughts lie?
Will they let me think?
Won't I be free to fly?

Rage

What were you thinking
When all those days went by?
When it was the time to learn
Your numbers and your rhymes?

Beats me to no end that you could,
While away such precious time,
In trifles and petty games,
In day dreams and the like.

But the time was not yet gone
To rewrite your misspelled ways.
I remember it was still evening when,
You chose to drop out of the race.

You disappoint me with your hollow words,
And anger me with your tainted thoughts.
You surprise me with your brashness,
And disgust me with your mediocrity.

If only there was a way to embark
On the quest for pure knowledge
If only you knew your way out
Of this blindness and mildewed stupor.

If only you'd make up your mind
To set off and be gone.
If only you could be someone else
If only it would come to pass, that you weren't me..

Bunch O' my Brain - resilient

To break and to mend
Forever defend,
To let it run wild
And then contain.

To swallow your fear
And stand your ground
To drench your spear
And turn it around.

Thinking on the move - creative balance

There's comfort here in the womb of darkness, penetrated only by the silver strands of music. Reclining gently against a black leather couch, for a rapidly melting hour, I'm at peace. Words and thoughts are all fast asleep in the dimly lit corridors of my brain. No agitation, none of the restlessness - just a tranquil haze, both inside and outside. Still waters, mirroring an equilibrium that effaces on the visage of its bearer, complete with closed eyes - merely the victims of a mind lost in the meandering strains of a Floyd number. A perfect time to let my jail-broken mind take its customary stroll into controlled delusion. Words float around, grope about and bounce off the vacant space upstairs. When enough Brownian motion has come to pass, there's a little verse sitting smugly, lodged in the corner of my brain's dump yard.

To Break and to mend,
Forever defend;
To let it run wild
And then contain.

Meanings and implications can be dealt with later. They're of meager consequence at times of elevated intuitive consciousness. And make no mistake, this state bears no semblance to that which is perceived by the vast majority as being conscious. Far from it, a disjoint free wheeling mind of a momentary renegade is what we're dealing with. Tobacco seems like a paltry price to pay for the trip to this creative haven. I lay back and let the remainder of the night pass by soothingly like a mountain breeze. Music playing the captain, and I the willingly lost sailor we sail on into serene waters, knowing very well that reality is just a mile away, ready to crash down upon us like a fierce storm. But that's ok, as long as I get my weekly dose of detachment from a severely entangled world where involvement amounts to an intertwining of emotional, and material bonds alike.