Doesn't the ground swallow me
when I die, or the sea
if I die at sea?
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Music Calls; God and Satan Falls
Drums and guitar reverberating
stating; a reign of music
calling us to the mist of sleep
the sleep of utter wakefullness
A man wakes up
and kills fifty children
to score his lust;
he was named satan
they versed his monologue
and gave him freedom
the freedom of glory.
Let us devour him
let us stand and play some music
the glory shal be gone
with the hundredth note of my guitar
satan shall crawl
and god cry,
for remembrence erased:
we shallnt recognise
play the music
let us swin in the music
lets us live again
jst some more days
to play some music
just some more music
why shouldnt we
I say let there be
no more monologues
no more trouble
the music fills me with
soft bubbles
and my eyes dance
and melody streams
towards the oceans
and rivers and dreams
and we gather the lives
we left behind
decidedly again and again
and this time.
ooh!! the soft hum
the strings in my ears
they fill me up
with tender tears
touch me, oh no, not jst me
touch all and stay
music calls us
to start another day.
and we laugh aloud
we dance and sing
the music crowd
we become the born again
walk our way to deaths train
and music shifts
beneath our feet
and we rise apon
the clouds and trees
and nature smiles at us
we became the wisest ones
the trees they hum with us
sing together like in a lost bus
we dance towards the end
rising rising ringing again
we share the clouds and now
we slip again towards the snow
towards the path where music calls.
stating; a reign of music
calling us to the mist of sleep
the sleep of utter wakefullness
A man wakes up
and kills fifty children
to score his lust;
he was named satan
they versed his monologue
and gave him freedom
the freedom of glory.
Let us devour him
let us stand and play some music
the glory shal be gone
with the hundredth note of my guitar
satan shall crawl
and god cry,
for remembrence erased:
we shallnt recognise
play the music
let us swin in the music
lets us live again
jst some more days
to play some music
just some more music
why shouldnt we
I say let there be
no more monologues
no more trouble
the music fills me with
soft bubbles
and my eyes dance
and melody streams
towards the oceans
and rivers and dreams
and we gather the lives
we left behind
decidedly again and again
and this time.
ooh!! the soft hum
the strings in my ears
they fill me up
with tender tears
touch me, oh no, not jst me
touch all and stay
music calls us
to start another day.
and we laugh aloud
we dance and sing
the music crowd
we become the born again
walk our way to deaths train
and music shifts
beneath our feet
and we rise apon
the clouds and trees
and nature smiles at us
we became the wisest ones
the trees they hum with us
sing together like in a lost bus
we dance towards the end
rising rising ringing again
we share the clouds and now
we slip again towards the snow
towards the path where music calls.
Joint Thought
Someone is smoking in the skies
he puffs and there is a mist
he pulls on the cigerette
there is day,
he stubbs his cigerete
there is night
and the trenchy smell
dies in the thunder of
the moral police of death.
he puffs and there is a mist
he pulls on the cigerette
there is day,
he stubbs his cigerete
there is night
and the trenchy smell
dies in the thunder of
the moral police of death.
Princes
Steep wishes, of the young princes,
her daddys tumbled over in desert distress,
she asked him over the last letter
"daddy will you remember me when u come back?"
the father grew red and failed to recover
now lies beside his cousin
beside some strange person.
her daddys tumbled over in desert distress,
she asked him over the last letter
"daddy will you remember me when u come back?"
the father grew red and failed to recover
now lies beside his cousin
beside some strange person.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Roses
A silver tray carrying two cups of tea, some bread and omelet, in the hands of a florescent fairy wearing a white translucent kurti, reaching 4 inches above her knees; and she entered the room, with a soft hum; probably an old song she had heard in the kitchen on the radio, and was now an ear worm to her. He was still sleeping. She was born an uncomplaining person, could understand everyone’s problems, sacrifice herself for anything anyone wanted. And of course he was a nice person, and she understood and loved him.
"Wake up!” She whispered softly in his ears, a bit teasing in manner.
And he opened his eyes in an instant. He loved her voice. But he hated life, and that annoyed him. The feeling of wakefulness was not something he liked. He liked to be sleeping. He didn’t like the world, and he didn’t understand what exactly was wrong with it. He wanted to live in a better world, and that world existed beneath the parameters of his closed eyes.
He pulled her towards him, as she put the tray on the table next to the bed; and gave her a full kiss. He was never going to be happy without her. And he wanted to say so much to her.
"What time are u going to leave for office?” he asked her, in a desperately wakeful sounding voice, as if that was the best sentence to describe his love for her.
She sat on his lap and looked in his eyes and wondered if he really loved her - kept wondering forever. She gave him his tea and took one for herself, still maintaining her seat; all this while wondering if that was the question she expected. Deep down inside she didn’t want to reply. She just wanted to sit there. She knew it made no sense; she would never be able to have a satisfying conversation with him. They were worlds apart. And he was too ignorant to notice even this.
He was not blind, only sleeping, never ignorant, just absent from thoughts that wandered in this real world. Half of the feelings and complications of this world never struck his mind. It was as if he lived for his ID only: an animal. He had skipped a couple of stages of evolution in terms of the growth of thought in the human mind.
She handed him a toast and some omelet in a plate. And he took it, looking through her. He loved her. He loved her so much, that now he was perpetually dreaming about her, even when she was there; right in front of him. She stared at him- hard and penetrating- she looked for the man he was. But he was there and he was not there. He was having a conversation in his mind- with her – just like old times. He wanted her never to get up. He wanted her to be there. He loved her. And she loved him back. But what is one supposed to do when there is a feeling of mutual love?; Hold hands?; kiss?; make love?; what? No one knows what?
Is it mandatory to give answers to questions like these early in the morning?, when the thought of parting for the day is most painful, and yet one is reminded of it, when one is assumed to be like a log of wood, worse then Pinocchio, for even Pinocchio had feelings and his master loved him for that. So instead she chose to ignore the question. But then she wanted to make a conversation with him. How desperately she was attempting to form something in her mind; some bright star of a thought; something that would start the rolling of a forest fire. Lead into a perfect fairy tail early morning conversation. But never mind. Truth is there are some things money cant buy, for everything else there is money.
She was still looking at him - concerned and loving - in a very unconcerned way. Hoping he would look at her, and smile. Just then he did. And took his bite: and!!!!
“Why do you even try?”
“Because I want to make you feel that I can do things for you”
“You are most welcome to do things for me and I will feel them, but please stop wasting bread and eggs. Will you?”
“You know I try hard to cook, but it’s as if I just can’t!”
“Well then don’t. I will!”
And all of reality tumbled into her brain in an instant. She was right there, eyes full of tears, waiting for him to say one more word of care.
“Will you get up from my lap now?”
It was all over! In an instant! She would desperately try to make things right now, until she goes of to sleep. In her desperation she will only add to the trouble. But that is a long way from now. Here is the moment, which could have been starry in broad day light, and seems dark and dingy. Why couldn’t she be lesser in love with him? Why couldn’t she just relax a bit and then may be things would fall automatically into place? Why doesn’t he understand?
He wouldn’t so she got up and she wanted to throw the tea on the wall, but she couldn’t because she was born a very understanding sort of a person. So she took it all and got up - left the room.
Wondering why she didn’t feel like going for work today, she went into the lawn with her frustration and a scissor. She went and she pruned the rose that she had been waiting for, for the past some weeks. It had finally bloomed, and she cut it. She had been very patient with the rose. She had nurtured it with utmost care, just like her parents had been with her since her birth. And now she cut it; ruthlessly; mindlessly. But it was born out of patience, so had to be very understanding. It won’t mind. It will just wither by evening and leave behind a shadow of itself in her mind, while she will repent her action or rather actions. Because at the end of the day she might want someone else to understand. But then by the time she starts to need someone to understand her, she probably will understand that no one will. So lets just never mind!
"Wake up!” She whispered softly in his ears, a bit teasing in manner.
And he opened his eyes in an instant. He loved her voice. But he hated life, and that annoyed him. The feeling of wakefulness was not something he liked. He liked to be sleeping. He didn’t like the world, and he didn’t understand what exactly was wrong with it. He wanted to live in a better world, and that world existed beneath the parameters of his closed eyes.
He pulled her towards him, as she put the tray on the table next to the bed; and gave her a full kiss. He was never going to be happy without her. And he wanted to say so much to her.
"What time are u going to leave for office?” he asked her, in a desperately wakeful sounding voice, as if that was the best sentence to describe his love for her.
She sat on his lap and looked in his eyes and wondered if he really loved her - kept wondering forever. She gave him his tea and took one for herself, still maintaining her seat; all this while wondering if that was the question she expected. Deep down inside she didn’t want to reply. She just wanted to sit there. She knew it made no sense; she would never be able to have a satisfying conversation with him. They were worlds apart. And he was too ignorant to notice even this.
He was not blind, only sleeping, never ignorant, just absent from thoughts that wandered in this real world. Half of the feelings and complications of this world never struck his mind. It was as if he lived for his ID only: an animal. He had skipped a couple of stages of evolution in terms of the growth of thought in the human mind.
She handed him a toast and some omelet in a plate. And he took it, looking through her. He loved her. He loved her so much, that now he was perpetually dreaming about her, even when she was there; right in front of him. She stared at him- hard and penetrating- she looked for the man he was. But he was there and he was not there. He was having a conversation in his mind- with her – just like old times. He wanted her never to get up. He wanted her to be there. He loved her. And she loved him back. But what is one supposed to do when there is a feeling of mutual love?; Hold hands?; kiss?; make love?; what? No one knows what?
Is it mandatory to give answers to questions like these early in the morning?, when the thought of parting for the day is most painful, and yet one is reminded of it, when one is assumed to be like a log of wood, worse then Pinocchio, for even Pinocchio had feelings and his master loved him for that. So instead she chose to ignore the question. But then she wanted to make a conversation with him. How desperately she was attempting to form something in her mind; some bright star of a thought; something that would start the rolling of a forest fire. Lead into a perfect fairy tail early morning conversation. But never mind. Truth is there are some things money cant buy, for everything else there is money.
She was still looking at him - concerned and loving - in a very unconcerned way. Hoping he would look at her, and smile. Just then he did. And took his bite: and!!!!
“Why do you even try?”
“Because I want to make you feel that I can do things for you”
“You are most welcome to do things for me and I will feel them, but please stop wasting bread and eggs. Will you?”
“You know I try hard to cook, but it’s as if I just can’t!”
“Well then don’t. I will!”
And all of reality tumbled into her brain in an instant. She was right there, eyes full of tears, waiting for him to say one more word of care.
“Will you get up from my lap now?”
It was all over! In an instant! She would desperately try to make things right now, until she goes of to sleep. In her desperation she will only add to the trouble. But that is a long way from now. Here is the moment, which could have been starry in broad day light, and seems dark and dingy. Why couldn’t she be lesser in love with him? Why couldn’t she just relax a bit and then may be things would fall automatically into place? Why doesn’t he understand?
He wouldn’t so she got up and she wanted to throw the tea on the wall, but she couldn’t because she was born a very understanding sort of a person. So she took it all and got up - left the room.
Wondering why she didn’t feel like going for work today, she went into the lawn with her frustration and a scissor. She went and she pruned the rose that she had been waiting for, for the past some weeks. It had finally bloomed, and she cut it. She had been very patient with the rose. She had nurtured it with utmost care, just like her parents had been with her since her birth. And now she cut it; ruthlessly; mindlessly. But it was born out of patience, so had to be very understanding. It won’t mind. It will just wither by evening and leave behind a shadow of itself in her mind, while she will repent her action or rather actions. Because at the end of the day she might want someone else to understand. But then by the time she starts to need someone to understand her, she probably will understand that no one will. So lets just never mind!
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