dust

I was riding a bike-sometime back-much like anyone else-and I went blind (momentarily!!). Where are we going? We are going towards dust. There have been parades of writing about all subjects but all we know about dust is that we return to it! What does one mean by that? Well!! It means that we are born from dust and we return to it after death, this of course is true only for our physical existence if at all it is true. But let’s think about it the other way, if that is what is left of us apart from the immaculate soul which wanders until reincarnation, then can you not contemplate how important dust is. What went in that moment in my eyes could be one of your forefathers or even mine? Don’t you believe me? If you believe one part of the supposition then you will have to believe the other part as well.

I love fantasy; I have always kept my own world where I have dreamt of wierdity, pain, pleasure, heroism, almost everything capable to be copulated inside a young soft womb in the skull. And over the years I have learned hard to makes sense out of the most horrendous and nonsensical of things, what am I doing? I am just playing with thoughts. And here right now I will share with u a history of a moment.

I can feel my blood running faster, may be rushing out of my mouth as well. But all this is irrelevant, I just want you to read with care, because to you these words might seem farce, fictitious and imaginary, but they are no more fantastic then you and I, yes! that is the truth of the matter if this dust is unreal then so are we or our thoughts, then how relative are things, they are not relative they are one, just two sides of the same coin, two perceptions out of so many. DUST lies under our feet, no matter how clean, it will crawl on your body, it will make your eyes itch. It is in these moments that ignorance of imagination makes us curse the itch, makes us think of nothing better then to take a bloody bath. But! What are you washing from your body? Is it dust? Or is it history? Which has crawled to you?

As I said-I was riding a bike-it stung my eyes-I felt an itch-I closed my eyes-tried to steer by the side-got stung by an imagination-filtered into a dream-saw a flutter-and the moment has already outstretched the term "momentary". In that lapse of time I was catapulted into an obscurity, towered by a land which can be called land. A region which stretches the term outstretched to abnormal limits. Bliss is here! There is a grand door with heavenly walls and raking winds. Creaking and breaking, the door opens, at the speed: the fastest rolling, slow speed recording camera (extra slow motion), and people march. I don’t know where I am or what I am, but I wonder if I am anything more then a particle of dust.

They came out and out and out and out and out. Heaven unleashed! There is no end to it, i thought the population of the world today was too much but believe me what I am seeing is definitely not the world today and by far from anything less then a hundred times more symmetrically crowded. I hear a scream and feel a gulf under me and hooooooooo!!!!! I am flying. The wind is taking me somewhere: history does have an absurd manner of portraying itself. I am weightless and do I use the word hell!! There are more of them coming from the other side...more and I mean moooore!

Wait!........ aaah!!........ I am inside now by some phenomenon known as wind tunneling i have been sucked inside the kingdom. Tell me readers! Have u seen beauty? Isn’t it something that is most potent when we are struck by love? What does beauty signify? Peace? Tranquility? Righteousness? Yes I think these and many more of the words that swirl in the tamed universe around them. Beauty is something that pierces the eyes and makes way to the heart without a single wound or scratch or the tenderest ligament tear. I think that is beauty. When you are surprised out of your senses, when elation lifts you and elevates you to a newer spectrum of thoughts where there is harmony between you and your soul. Where the heart pounces and is ready to jump out but not for the purpose of giving you an attack but to make one realize that beauty can not be seen only with the eyes and so the heart jumps out and inside again many a times till it is satisfied with the sight.

What I see is far more placid then anything I witnessed out of this moment. Tall lush green trees with red flowers, red flowers with green stems, green stems that also populate the fruits of wisdom, the fruits plucked by small children and the trees are happy to be of some use to the naughty games, the children playing in innocence and ignorance, ignorance keeping all engulfed in peace, peace in the eyes of the young girl standing by the water, the water touching her feet, the young girl not sure of the sweet distant voices, the voices rushing through plenty houses, houses so beautiful that each seems to have been built in an eternity, eternity rising now and calling all to its bosom, the voice rushes though the houses with hell fire ordinance, the clouds cleared by the ordinance, the clouds cleared from a centre far from where I am, I am here and the voice echoes through the ground and shakes it, the shake produces a gentle sweeping wind, the wind carries me high again, high i go and back towards the door, the heat of the voice makes the wind warm and it sweeps from under me and the cool air tries to reach the ground, the cool air thus makes a drift cycle, in this cycle i am swimming and reach the door, where the soft gentle voice has taken to its true pitch, the pitch symbolizes the roar of a billion lions, the lions are at war!

Weapons flying, catching arms legs heads, the story of their detachment will be written in some book that will become an epic and later mythology and cause a new religion. How great is this table where this game of blood and tears is enjoyed and played with such devotion, where one door separates such wonders. On one side lies heaven and on another earth. What cajoles such, such irony? The men in this war were once the children plucking fruits, they have been wedded to responsibility of society and made numb and responsibility has heightened there thoughts to reproach. These lions will die here and news will fly like dust from under the immaculate door or over it, through the skies and tear tears out of the girl with peaceful eyes; sow and water the seeds of revenge in the girl and she will trample the water in sudden fury, and the boys will nip all fruits from the trees and sow dismay to the trees and here forth will be the beginning of the end. But there is no end to this beginning except the end of contemplation of dreams and memories.

I am wandering until the clouds cease to breathe and I fall form the sky and a boy, young, with a mighty sword in hand is striking his foe with a wrist of anger and looks up and the girl falls, is it a mirror? I saw my face and I entered his eyes. I go flying front wards...one bounce...two bounce...three bounce. A speck of dust-caused a moment of silence in the movement of anger-and the wrist missed its turn: in war the gift of opportunity is never left unattended. The boy was sliced and the blood from his throat spat out and as he bumped some of it went flying and sprayed drops of it in eyes and i see red...

...I am red, red all over my face, like the flower in the garden with a green shirt. There is discomfort: the voice is the same but the land has changed. The smell has changed and brings to mind a lugubrious distaste. I am light and numb, but I feel a pain, i can see a blurred environment, now my eyes are clear, now again it is blurred, the war has ended! Was it just waiting for my demise, why didn’t I know? I could have altered fate and its chapters, but i think they were written well before this day. I hear chasing at a distance as my ear is touched to the warm dusty ground, and i feel the red dust sticking to my cheeks, i feel the color of it, it is red. I seem to be flying on shoulders of a couple of people, i think they are taking me to my palace, but there are no palaces! My eyes clear again and i see my bike crushed...

They say when you die your entire life flashes in front of you...so much for living a life of fantasy in this already fantastic and grave world. I am not a martyr prince of some mighty age, but a victim of a conspiracy between a particle of dust and a break-less-bus. What the dust showed me was my life, my history, and what I endured for its unwelcome admission in my eyes was my fate and a callous present. In this age we die in wars of machines in another we would have died in wars of lust senseless serpentine emotions of brotherhood. How does it matter? I am no more and the young girl is all tears and the stream at her feet was not from a distant mountain.

From dust I rose
With dust I lived
By dust I died
To dust I returned!!!

I Thought I thought Of Everything

Dreams!! dreams!!! it is quite an act tht everyone has a right to and everyone makes use of everyone posses the talent to make use of. Qualifying for the best used rescourse of the world i think. "EVERY ONE DREAMS". If u look at it there has to be more then 100 billion dreams floating in our world swarming, chasing (Some fast, some slow, some strong, some not), crashing into each other, and all of a distinct manner in which they were prespired, from many lumps that still mortal and so many yet to come and so many that came. can u imagine how many thoughts have been let out into this swollen universe, i doubt if one day the atmosphere will explode because it will not be able to hold dreams on to the expansion just like one day the world will have no space for it will be over crowded, and wht happens then? Since we might exist and then inevitably cease to exist bt our dreams do not die they live, they do not age, they conquer : imortality. wander through the ages until one day they find another such cloud wid a similar dream (most probably a brother or sister or someone belong to the same family of dreams but definately not in-laws, then they cant sit on one cloud!!) and then join hands peacefully and chat and when they get tired of chatting, they fall down as rain.

Multiludes have thought about it, spoken about it, written about it, slept over it, lived for it, died for it, sung for it, composed for it, fought over it, had lunches and dinners over it, and they have remained a basic momento of every mortal. They have subsisted in our sub-coscience, sub- unconsciense, unconsciense, conscience, here, there, now, forever, everywhere, like this, like that. But every now and then they evolve : like any and every thing that exists either living or non-living or supernatural. The only thing is they do not age, they grow but not old. They are wht is left of us after us : "A Dream!!". We were a dream and we shall return to a dream once and for all, but tht does has no relevense here(We will talk about that somewhere else).

Can u excogitate a cloud with dreams talking amongst themselves, floating, flying way up high and way too low, through us sometimes and at other times watching over us, laughing at us, crying for us, sympathysing! It is here when some of them are floating through us that we can match its frequency (to be talking in scientific terms) and that we begin to understand its understanding. It is here that we infuse with the knowledge of wisdom and our past and of everything else.

What i would like to state is, in all these dreams and everything that is concerned with it, there is a sublime tranquility, a normality beyond reckoning, yet we blind fish, are so obscured by this reality that we forge a different or rather lethal perspective of such an extravagant tissue of understanding and swell with so much ego and pride, that even these languid dreams fabricate into much sordid deeds. "Deeds - an act comitted by a person acording to his understanding of right". But then one man's right is not another man's right aswell, we do not assume when it comes to deeds, it is not ficticious, it is real, as real as me and you. Everything done is done for a dream, assumably not a nightmare, jst a simple dream. And here we stand today with our own dreams, individual as any other, living inside us, feeding us with courage and the lust to walk on, and grab. But no dream is as blind as us, no it is not, and i will say again, it is not!! Dreams dnt show us ways, they show us goals, they show us clouds that they had sat on, and in our greed to fly and hover like that cloud, most of us devour other's of there dreams. Why this sullen phantom of us? why not a crawling snake that can teach itself yoga and imagine to fly and be evrywhere at the same moment and enjoy more then we can; by slaughter instead of love.

We! us! all of us belong to that part of the food chain where we dont feed on the flesh of our own species, and look around you. I think i do not need to write what i want to say because you can not only see the truth around but also feel what i am trying to write. We are dead from the moment we are born, one way or the other. Yet we kill and malfunction more of killing (let us not call it dream, let us call it a malfunction. i would not want to degrade the word dream by using it here). Even more, we have scared everything off, we are scared of ourselves, of everyone walking around you, everything is scared around you and runs away when we aproach. The animals have disapeared, some are hiding, the rest, dead. Every now and then when a person stands against these deeds with an invariably cosmic dream, he is assasinated! And now is the moment when everyone is caling for peace, look how cannibalistic we have become that we are fighting for peace. It is like killing your own father who loved you all his life and taught you to do the right with non-violence. Such beauty! we are ready to kill and cause disharmony for peace.

Do you know why so many of them are floating and dont come down unless ofcourse in rain, when again they fly back, because we scare them off as well. We have scared away our sacred possesion : dream. I remember my fellow friends calling out for answers, they lack imagination, they lack dreams coz they cant touch them anymore all of them are too high. let us enjoy this present. We are so advanced that we have killed our own dreams.It is so neat, so fine, i wonder if we will be able to call them back again. The most that will happen is when most of us realise what has happened they will build a great monument or if they can catch hold of any, keep them in a zoo for empty skulls to come and be amazed and imagine how it would feel to have them inside one's self. But that is one of the myriad possibilities.

And my dear derams they will keep floating if nothing happens. they will keep wandering gayly around everywhere and nowhere. Be whatever they can be and i am here bt absent for i dnt have a dream, the price i have paid for being born in the 22nd century. Welcome to the age of fanatics and brutality .I am hungry and through my window i can see a beautiful yellow cloud with a pitious expresion and my neighbour's father, walking in the grass, and i see in his pocket; a big fat wallet!!! TIME FOR FOOD!!!

Crazy

What i am is wht i speak...or so u think.
What i meditate is wht...I AM.
And if i speak tht
They say, "He is Crazy!!"

Dead And White

There he goes again
Up the ladder, down the drain
Behind bars and shackeled chain
He was hung coz a white man ordained
"Tell them i killed...because i was right"

-"Son!! any last wishes for the night"

"Dont let the dawn break upon my body,
i shall forever live in the dead of the night"

-"Hang this man! he gives society a fright"

-"Free him from his physical self"

-"We have decided now let god help"
He walked out and cried
His body hung next to him
But he was not in sight

"Amen",said the parishner
Choked and dropped dead like a winner
In a second became a mute stunner

-"Why did we hang the man and set him free!!"

-"Why did not we cleanse his soul and let him be"

All cried and cursed the white man's ordinance
Drooped dead like falling geese and filthy tenants
5 minutes and they all cried
But none in sight
A fresh dew felt in the room
Thier moist tears were not just a few

-"Let us hang him again"

-"We will fight for democracy in this dead man's domain"

-"Let us base baseless laws"

-"Create a society before night falls"

The man rose and walked and hugged
Requested them not to be bugged
"You are free from one land,
Your mind is free but your soul still stands,
Let not your other world effect your existence,
Cleanse your soul and free from sinning,
We are dead yet we meet again,
Please dont rage wars in this domain,
Let us live through our death,
Hold hands and imagine a deep breath,
Look down and see
Is that the wrold you wanted to be?
Sick and hatefull like rotten flesh,
Please realise you are beyond death's bed,
Rise above the hatefulness,
here lies the fairy beauty in obscured existence"

They held his arm
And took him again
Up the ladder, down the drain
Behind nothingness and unbearable brains
He was hung coz a dead white ordained

"Believe me i killed you because i was right"

-"Son any last wishes for the night?"

"Let me fall and this rope break my neck,
See the miracle i create,
Witness the beauty no mortal can contemplate"

-"Hang him he dosent deserve to be dead!!"

And the man was born
a lovely child
from a loving womb
on the sacred doctors bed
throughout his life
his skin he was again to shed
but bless him!!
for his murders were far away
building democracy
amongst lively, peaceful, uncertain death!!

Gone

beyond the churning clocks;
ever unstoppable pendulum and me
my heart still dwells in your eyes,
your lips set me free.

beyond here and there;
somewhere, everywhere and me
your words echo in the corridors of my heart
your touch i still feel

beyond the shadowy street lamps;
lights, days, nights and me
i have touched your satin skin
in your arms lie ethereal melody

beyond the practical mind;
imagination, mirages and me
i stood firm, eyes closed with u in a second, lived thru eternity
how do I explain!! Its all so painfully lovely

RELIGION

A thousand temples
for foolish saints,
"peoples contaminated
brain products"
a society built,
to help with god,
occupying acres of land.
Filled with,
death stoned creatures,
building hopeless structures,
of wisdom,
on thoughts
by green divine leaves,
on a high.
Doped out,
Flying,
in search of answers,
god,
divinity
and peace.
Learning,
only to cheat,
other creatures,
and thoughtless brains,
found in heaps.
The grass,
to find answers,
divinity in naked dancers,
divinity,
in anything,
but themselves.
Misguiding,
those lipids,
in soft skulls called heads.
Raging wars
on heavenly horses,
prove
each others god’s verses.
Riots,
bombs,
guns,
brains,
fighting
to free their gods,
chained,
to blindness.
At oath,
to never see,
the truth behind.
Is this,
all that gods are for,
to start cold blooded,
insane,
egoistic wars.
Peace,
is not in temples
you build,
sacred acres
of war land.
A pity citizen
afraid to fight
is god himself
and not his knight.
A citizen,
afraid to fight.
No sorrow,
bliss in sight

Stoned

Memories
that precipitate delight
upon reasons fighting
stoned nights,
cities and countries
of thoughts of
unbearable and timid feelings.
My brains got
lights and sound,
reasons buried underground.
Years of passages
never to be walked again,
lying on black sheets,
reason and circumcised feelings
copulating in search
for new born answers.
Could be beautiful,
could be ugly.
Belated they are,
babies dying
in lovely wombs
without letting mother reason
help them comb.
In sudden conjuncture
noting was born
although
even stranger feelings
that got formed.

Soilder Of Plight

The soldier of plight
In a plagued night
Not a single soul at sight
Rode against the crescent moon
Can he see the cacti bloom?
Can he see the other side of doom?
Dug his hand in the cold sand
Enslaved by his feelings at hand
Dug deeper to dig a hole
To walk at night and free his soul
Dug deeper and deeper through layers so low
Walked into blackness as darkness was through
Screaming to come out again
He signaled his horses reign
Who pulled hard to free him out
And he did without doubt
The soldier came out with immaculate wisdom
Fell at the horse’s feet, which he did seldom
And all the answers came with a thud
Kissed his horse as he jumped up
Left his devilish thoughts in the hole
To light came back his soul
Far away at the horizon
A thousand colors from a prism
Dancing angels green and red
Rode the soldier of plight
Away from the plagued night
With angels and cupid souls at sight
Rode against the crescent moon
He could see the cacti bloom

learning

Time just flies
Like moving skies
The clouds that rain
And drift away.

We are born
And learn to grow
Like tropical fruits
From heavenly trees.

We grow and grow
To seek wisdom
Left by those
From past days.

In the hearing
Of the divine soul
We forget the promises
That we made.

I learned a lesson
Unheard by many
That in the years
Love and luck seem to fade.

Dave

Ropes are hanging,
Strings are attached,
To the dead man’s grave,
By the name of Dave,
People visit,
Priests preach,
They come to listen,
To the dead man’s scream,
“Purgatory”
A hopeless case
Death is a phase
They seem to be sorry
But none so worry
People visit again
Priests preach again
And now the dead man’s curse
Spoken in verse
For all to listen
But none so care
Upon the dead man’s grave
By the name of Dave.

goodbye angel

Take 1:
A soft feathered, fragile boy
Playing with imaginations toy
Now featherless waiting to fly
Beyond the warm limits of sky
Touched by angels, now waiting to die
I look back for an angel to say good bye
Just goodbye….



Take 2:
Wandering, wandering I am able to fly
Shed my body as time passed me by
I think I deserved to live but preferred to die
But now I’m free ah! Immortal and high
Lying with angels who kiss me dry
Yet I look back for an angel, to say goodbye
Just goodbye…..
For in her arms I did die !!!

lucifer sam

Peaceful anxiety in the rhythm of life
Held by the powers of loves domain
I thought and built a house for Sam
But Lucifer cursed my dame


Honey sweet, surrender me, in her eyes
In my ears whispering sweet soft complain
I thought and built a house for Sam
But Lucifer cursed my dame


Prisoner at will for the love in her arms
Was kissed, set free, to live happily in pain
I thought and built a house for Sam
But Lucifer cursed my dame


Dreams behind closed eyes, divine beauty in my brain
Opened my eyes to reality and memories they became
I thought and built a house for Sam
But Lucifer cursed my dame


Considerate blessing, been loved by an angel
Promises to wait at the gates of heaven remain
I thought and built a house for Sam
But Lucifer cursed my dame


Gods blasphemy shadowed by her fragrance,
Heavens beauty looked anxiously in vain
I thought and built a house for Sam
But Lucifer cursed my dame



Merciless beauty, I am stoned at her blissful sight
To exterminate hell my conscience ordains
I thought and built a house for Sam
But Lucifer cursed my dame


Isis doned, serenity in her voice, she tranquil herself
My freedom and flight serendipitous me obtain
I thought and built a house for Sam
But Lucifer cursed my dame


Universe in vapour, burnt by jealousy and tormenting pain
Unconscious of bitterness, happily in my arms she remain
I thought and built a house for Sam
But Lucifer cursed my dame

Economy

eyes under bridges...and stars on building tops
wounded, on stiches...the doctors fly in flocks.

walk the road tht runs staight up high
martyrs to remove the sun frm sky

polluted tear streams tht flow to ... glossy ...bathroom ... props.
reflections on window panes..
my million faces..
i see anew...

fighting over spaces
and i lost my mind to the few.
finaly i se them riding bees of luxury... and gold
running into building..
for fear to take us.....
all

this economy is something i fail to... understand
money tht keeps us moaning...like whores on desert sand

tht mother who lost his son
to the lust of the tanks
one man strives fr power
and him... follow...
a few.

the rest are gently murdered...
of their innocence...
in labyrinths of bloody schools

in the corner i see the old man..
rotting in the grass...
people stepping on him
fear crawling around him
he was left of the.... tanks
bt connotation left him fr life
and hunger took its toll

finaly i understand the sickness of the few
the greed fr...money...
and power....
the craving fr beauties on beds...
are all economies do...