Hera With Her Nine Lives

There is a shiver all around

Whiskers tonight twine no sound

Her wrath she calmly caresses

Until her heart it pleases.

O’ Hera with your nine lives

Give me one without question

I seek but the music of your tongue

And the wisdom of its knives.

The Birth

The eggs turned into fingers

Thoughts turned to hyena

Songs turned women

And men made beds.

The End.

Kiss Of The Cat

She smiled from across the street. Her smile the morning call of birds in a deep and elderly forest: candles in a morning. Smile that makes smile in bad times. Accident of the gods; in their rash evil creations, there they created unnoticed beauty. Sublime and gentle: happiness. And then cursed man for it: their mistake.

- Candles flickered in the morning light

Oblivious that they were ignored

The change in temperament they understood not

For at night they shall much be adored.

Her purpose was quite simple. Her heart was full. In her love for coffee, she strode towards it. Modern capitalist achievements, bars serving coffee.

The building was new, it was glazing through and through. The ground floor was called Sista-The Coffee Bar. Her destination. Coffee gave her a sense of belonging, it gave her freedom in those minute moments of sipping. Everywhere she went people stared at her, at her smile. But this was the only time when she was oblivious to the piousness of those eyes. The want of them; the jealousy.

She entered the immaculately clean glass door and softly spotted a seat for herself in the far left corner of the room. Her coffee immediately arrived.

- Cat’s kiss to the brown coffee

Her smile for a pending life given

Thus she kissed the brown china cup

And nothing was ever in my heart the same.

Wishes Upon A Tree

There was a lonely young boy

Who wished upon a tree,

His wish not for a toy

His wish not to be free

He wished all his loneliness fall

Come true just one dream

When the boy became a young man

He went back to the tree

Took a little of the lying sand

And recalled his vivid dream

His wish not fulfilled

Unsatisfied, he went to the stream

There stood he by the stream

He wished upon its placid roar

He wished again his vivid dream

His dream swam to the river floor

Though alive in nature so it seemed

Disheartened he closed his hearts door

There was once that young man

And he seemed to have gotten on

His dream forgotten as best as can

His hopes seemed to have left and gone

He thought he tried

He thought he moved on

But this young man knew not nature

Knew not surprises sweet of its bosom

Just one morning his wish ruptured

And his dream drew forth a kingdom

There came forth a princess

Smiled and she kissed him on his lips.

I Am Afraid

Today I saw it in their faces

Their smiles hiding their death

How fearful they all are

How uncertain in their steps

There were plenty

Crowding here and there

Blankly staring at whatever

Didn’t know where was where

Today I saw all of their empty faces

I saw all of their deadly smiles

The truth that had escaped me for so long

Today I saw it in their eyes

All the death inevitable

All the truth that we are blind to

Everything came flashing to me

Today I saw a million miles

Today I saw death smiling

And now I must prepare

For in their ignorance they do not know

But I am afraid.

Today I looked up at the empty skies

And I was; am afraid.

Wooden Room

* Its unbelievable how heavy a machine one needs to process textures on 3d surfaces...my system just crumbles even after 2 GB RAM...no! no! don't take me wrong, I am not showing off that I have 2 GB RAM...ha ha! This one was an elaborate plan that didn't work...I had thought of something of a shack look with doors that as in homes...a mismatch sort of thing. And tables and bottles sort of thing. But I couldn't even render this completely...as you can see, the cask is still in its early stage...coz my super computer decided to fly off instead!

* The Image is custom render...Too heavy Too heavy I tell you!!

Study Room Render

* This is a setting of a room with lights...Just trial...No texture yet! I dont think I will put any either...Probably somewhere else!

Camera - Vistavision, Aperture- 37.719

The Art of Human Memory

There were drops on chests and breasts

That fell from blood swollen eyes

They fell for they were burning the dead

Under cloudy stormy skies

Some were promises, some were friends

Some brothers and some wives

They were all charred the same way

Either bombed or butchered by knives

And those tears made further promises

Never would we forget their love

Thus they brought back the burning dead

Resurrecting black charred doves

Those bodies they sat up on their pyre

Weeping and requesting with dead smiles

"Why make ghost of us until eternity

Please forget us for a while."

But no word, no sound, no prayer was heard

None by the black weeping clan

None of them would stop to mourn

Such was their illogical plan

Though they would plainly carry on

And reminiscing as of some broken jewelry

The wretched ghosts would be called

For this is the art of human memory

No peace to the dead, no peace in life

No one understands why a ghost never smiles

Forget the legends the great the dead

For memory wretchedly is more servile

Those bodies they sit up on their pyre

Weep and request with dead smiles

"Why make ghost of us until eternity

Please, o’ please forget us for a while."