Pocket full of stones

Fell is the curse of the green leaf
That buys you and gets bought.
Count them slowly all you want
No slower it seems to run out.

You hopped all day and sang all night
And stole an afternoon nap.
The world looked smaller to your eyes,
When the evening had come by.

Dont you think you're dreaming
Sooner than you are allowed?
Where'd you think you're going
With your pocket full of stones?

Somber, concise and diligent,
They cruised by, through them all.
Past all the mighty mountains,
That held you back afar.

Toil and trudge, that you will
But theres always more to climb.
You chose to burden the beaten path
So, heavy your footsteps fall.

Dont you think you're dreaming
Sooner than you are allowed?
Where'd you think you're going
With your pocket full of stones?

Gilded skies lead you on,
And promise to take you there.
Where the sunshine filters soft and warm,
To tickle those dancing strings.

Off you go, down the road
Sweating, trudging, till you drop.
Brace yourself for you chose to share
Of all things, the dreamer's plight.

Dont you think you're dreaming
Sooner than you are allowed?
Where'd you think you're going
With your pocket full of stones?

Ten days

Bang in the centre of my head
It stays all the time.
Drinking all these worldly treasures in.
Claws at my deepest fears and,
Stirs up a storm.

Wield your cunning powers
Another day
Let me go and let me
Have my day.

The wait for the horses lasted
Ten full days
Days of apprehension and a little pain.
But the story now plays inside
The warmth of this wood.

Wield your cunning powers
Another day
Let me go and let me
Have my day.

Chime time

A distant breeze, once carried to me
A priceless gift on its crystal wings,
The light grew weary all around
As dusk drifted into the winter sky.

Ever so lightly, it crept inside
The vision of a high priest in prayer
As somewhere afar on a river bank
He joins his palms to salute the sun.

The magic contained, in a mere chime,
Set me adrift in an ocean of mist
Where the devil inside the water did sound,
The rover's knell with the Inchcape bell.

It took me away to the tall, cold halls
Of an ancient Chapel in the streets of Rome
Where the walls quivered in obeisance
To the mighty clangor of a holy peal.

A ding, a dong, a chime and a clang
Myriad pictures in an instant sprang
And silenced the demons in my brain,
For a splendid second, if not for life.

Bunch o' my brain - What goes a O comes a O

The circle's coming at you my friend
To give you what you gave me.
Its coming around to show you
All the places I have been.

"Bunch o' my Brain - Sensible" - the centurion \m/

You're not mad, I'm not sane
Thinking is such a pain.
I'll yield and tell you if I must.
In nonsense we trust.

Also, this happens to be the 100th post on this cheap imitation of my pessimism, projected onto an optimistic plane of mind, by my alter ego. Drafted by the whirlwinds in my brain, my dialogue with myself and no one in particular, tends to range from poetic prose to prosaic poetry, encompasses the physical and questions the metaphysical, indulges few and bores many, enlightens no one but refracts me (reflection is pretty much impossible I've learned) plausibly well, if not accurately. I'd like to thank anyone who's been kind (and patient/crazy/patient(the other one)/mad/intellectually gifted/parenthetically tolerant/tangentially eccentric/admirably athletic/patient(see what i mean?)/critically critical/ killer rajan) enough to go through all or any of my musings. Here's hoping for a quick double century!

Hocus Pocus gilli gilli boom.

My bliss

With nimble fingers,
You cradled my dreams.
Held me captive,
With a heavenly gaze.
Fresh like the morning breeze,
You helped me off my knees.
When I'm tired of walking,
I long to see you again.

Soothing Rain, make me yours.
Wash over me, Like a song.
Caress me, make me strong.
Warm sunshine, you are my bliss.

I like the feel
Of your hands upon my head.
You'd carry me
If I asked you, in the night.
My hero, for ever long
My god, if there ever was.
When I'm tired and hungry,
I long to be with you.

Soothing Rain, make me yours.
Wash over me, Like a song.
Caress me, make me strong.
Warm sunshine, you are my bliss.

Soothing Rain, make me yours.
Wash over me, Like a song.
Caress me, make me strong.
Warm sunshine, you are my bliss.

An outlet

Hmmm... I just got done with a meeting with a couple of professors. Nothing special - just a weekly routine, yeah; just my weekly dose of "I'm a dumb***k".

"AAAAAARGHHH~!%^%^&!!!" is all I'm afraid I'm allowed to put in here. A lot of censor worthy expressions with lots more of the weird-ass symbols, would fall short of doing justice to what i feel right now. Trust me! its not even funny, how much I feel like knocking myself out cold with a frying pan. I'd christen myself Einstein if I understood 5% of what these guys talk. Frikking over achievers, always standing round the corner sporting a "my day's as good as yours sucked!" smile. Oh! lord, I seek swift deliverance.

In retrospect, I always wanted to be the guy who could play the guitar AND understand Maxwell's equations. I can now, in fact play a bit of guitar and as for Maxwell - I appreciate his ability to smoke up and write fiendishly complicated stuff, but now he can lie back, count his blessings and while he's at it, get himself a fine unearthly tan from the infernal heat in hell. How the hell am I supposed to believe that I was created by the same God, who also created Guiseppe Caire? Its during times like these that I fail to acknowledge the existence of an entity worthy of being called God. I'd love to be a really clever person, and I'm even willing to work hard for it, but hell no! This is Graduate School son! you also need some of that "u have it or you dont" stuff (WHAT!! Lycra?). Have it or dont, I dont care - I've always believed that just hard work IS in fact enough. Hopefully it will stand me in good stead. But for now, I'm pretty much done prattling.