Is This The Real Life? Or Is This Just Fantasy?

Who am I, and what have I become!
Life is the same, as when it begun,
If all I learnt, I learnt to discern,
Make it not me the crawling worm?
"A Faithless Brute" tattooed on arm
Lying to attain false social charm
I meant not waste, meant not harm
But such is life and such its perm,
Reason of mine, not reason for some.
To walk this day till that day come
The promised hand, the promise of one
But isn’t mere waiting, also to be dumb?
Idling with nothing, nothing to learn
Facing stagnation, facing fears gun
Pointed towards me, my soul all numb
In boredom, boring old songs I hum
In powdered confusion evermore I slump
Who am I, and what will I become?

Rack my brain will the answer ever come?

Sugar

The craving
Gelatin
Sack in
Bit-ween
The legs,

Forms fluid wet thoughts
Surrender the snake flesh
In search of the dark purse
Beneath the salty forests

“Oh! sugar pie,
Come! Dance
The dance of death
Between your legs
Let’s stain the beds”

Born to suffer
And surrender
Yet she refuses,
They wonder!

“Come now sugar
Surrender to our guilt
We are the mob
From despair’s pit”

Held her wrist
Put a gun under
Yet she refuses
They wonder!

That pain.
The white sheet.
Touched and torn.
Jaws of the moon,
Jabbing at the ivory.

Sweet sugar melted
Screaming; rising tide
Blood moon pelted
With lust as its guide
We need to learn;
This Night!!
We Should…!!
We Must…!!

- Ripples Of Collections Of those Things

Baked Bored Moon

- Bored silence,
Baked bored moon,
Blue bored trees,
The Amateur fool.

- Your palm’s sweating – Expressionlessly, she asked - Do you want to leave my hand for sometime?

Strange; why would she want to leave his hand – Thinking; he declined.

- Are you forever going to be this quite?

He has read in those books that love can best be described through silence. His eternal vow, never to utter a word. He truly loves her.

- Martyrs of those love poems
I pity your innocence.

- Poor victim of book shelves, it’s just your addiction of the idea of loving me - she thought; leaving.

- The last episode, of the last goodbye
I’ll send you a smile; sometime.

The question is. Where is the dream?

I believe that a sudden mellow wind, the kind that sweeps from within a creature but feels like its coming from somewhere way outside and afar and is sudden; and with much uncomfort, lifts a boy or man or any creature for that matter; lets say a dog (assumption), had lifted me up. I think I was in love.

It happened at partial night, the span of light and dark, together - when the moon presents itself with bold vigor and the sun; desperate, tries to engulf it into oblivion. To erase its mere vision (But shallow deeds and thoughts are hardly ever rewarded). Evening. I was walking out on a grey road. Straight and unconscious, conscious of only a parley in my thoughts.

- Walking down the city of dreams,
Walking Striding my city screams.

A pompous loud car swam by my side at great speed.

- A little to the left and the reason of man would be dripping in soft red haste, dignified be our death. Amen. Dimensions change form with slight hurt. Do we all hurt? Is pain a thought or a feeling? Or both simultaneously? Does death bring peace? Or is it merely an excuse to change form. "I am tired of these clothes, let me put on this new one", so said my soul to nature.

- Bring me the sweating pain of a dime,
And I will gladly show you all of mine.

- Reproduction is the beginning of death! "Strange thought". But then death might be the point of reproduction of some other circumference. Something else. Something that we do not understand. Morrison says we are looking for something that has already found us. Could this be the probable reason why we do not understand? Or may be we do understand but do not realize. Can that be true? The true depth of the realization of an understanding has nothing to do with the education of the mind or the nurturing of it with-things-fed. It can only reciprocate to one stimulus; experience. Then what is survival? An act to prolong the attainment of death!

I hopped to cross a pothole and landed on my left leg. Tried to balance myself for a long moment. Just like that. And started to walk again. Strangely not many people were there on the road. May be it wasn’t a weekend. I can’t recall. I won’t hold myself in contempt for that. I was looking straight. Trying to figure out the path an arrow would take and where its mark would be, if I was it. And suddenly. A pair of eyes, clear as the morning sea. Full. Vast.

- Your eyes are pretty loud little girl
They remind me of fresh begotten pearls
What ocean do they carry?
Or within it do they vary?
Such wet wisdom and waves
I hope my life it saves.

She was coming from the other side and she caught my eye. I wasn’t staring. She held my gaze for some precious moments and then let them fall. Like an eagle. Eagles circle their prey for a period of time, from very high in the sky. They have the eyes of the gods. Then suddenly plunge into something that resists it. It wants to dig at higher speed. The resistance is not something it can understand; only that it knows there is something that will resist it. She let her eyes drop. This was the resistance, but I wanted to continue. I wanted to penetrate through the resistance of a stare, and look into her eyes. I turned back and she was about to enter a shop, along the road.

- There is a shop beside the stream
it sells divine immaculate dreams,
She whispers with her eyes,
Like the splendid voice in my dreams,
She wants to shop beside the stream.


She looked back to look at me and i could see them. Her eyes. You could find all the knowledge in a sight. Blasphemy. Religion. All of it is a gesture. Those eyes are my prize. Let me look into them. She carried oceans and rivers and lakes full of mountains of future. Not one but two. Beautiful both of them were too. Her black hair as if insulting all of nature. Calling. Competing. Can you compete? Oh! Beat me? What a joke! Her lips I remember where red. I had once tasted a strawberry. It could not satisfy my imagination. The lips of Hera. A symbol of sensation. I want to hear all that they could speak. To me. She wore the feathers of a peacock. Rich and vibrant. I wonder if she could dance as well. All pause to hale and rejoice this beauty.

- Goddess of delight
Hold on to this night
We need your arrow
To mark our dreams.

Vhrooom! screeech! A car pauses. Three men look at her; one smiles. There is no surprise. She does not recognize them. They rush out of the car. The eagle comes to its prey, unheard, unannounced and unwanted, at an odd hour. It picks it up, lifts it and swoooooom...there goes the prey, I’ll see you some other day. But it might not be in this world. They picked her, not in a manner that you would pick your girlfriend or your wife. She screamed.


- I have sensed a scream
Its shrill I have seen
Not heard for I was blind
I'll see her at the end of time.

-Protest is a liberty in a democracy. I have forgotten what they call it in a dictatorship? They carried her to the car. Those beautiful eyes. I saw the river that flows from the hair of Shiva. It was not as pure. I tried to move, to protect. Something that in a strange void of reason and thought seemed to be mine. But what was I to do? They forced her into the car. The streets were crowded now, with silent spectators and wise council: don’t involve yourself. Fear is not the thing you can hold in contempt. its just wrong. The spectators of ruthless safety didn’t move. I didn’t move. The engine gunned. A recollection of movement in the stomach of the car. The car says i can turn the wheels real fast, if you can provoke me to. The man, who had smiled, was now provoking the car.

- The wheels may turn
And they could burn
Too fast, if, along
The road you went.

There was an explosion. Loud and clear. Something was burning, was it my soul? The tires had caught fire. Shaking as if hot with fever, yellow fever. The car stopped and shivered. Out flew a dove, from the window. Some feathers of the peacock. Stripped out of her body. Beasts prefer their feast carved. Two men ran down to the car. They picked up the feathers and were trying to smell the tattered piece. Not all senses function at the same time. The mind can only act at one thing. No one was expected to hear her screams? You could either see or smell. We are humans after all not god.

- The dusty devil, dawns,
We were copulated mere pawns,
Satan come and save me
These beasts are worse then thee.

A young boy moved. David. His sling in his hand. Faith in his heart. Courage in his eyes. To save the world from the soul of the stone. He flung himself towards the car. He was running. I didn’t know what he was doing. He picked up a piece of brick that lay beside the road. Lazy and alone, no one cared for it. Abandoned, he gave it glory. He threw it towards the car. The sound of breaking glass has always attracted human ear. It’s the multiplicity of that one sound that it wonderfully attractive. The crushing lets say humming sound, the clinging of it, which sticks to the ear.

- A serum becomes the rock
When held within you palm
If only courage was in stock
Held within a righteous arm.

He didn’t realize that there were more men behind him then he could expect. He didn’t care.

- There is a small dot of a point of contact between absolute fear and Achiellian courage. It’s unpopularly called the point of knowledge of one's moral premise. Where man is ready to deny himself guilt and thus stands up to his own standards. Without fear. Without care of the hypocritical wisdom of the social order. It takes a moment to decide. Just one.

- Who made you the strong?
Was it not those staring eyes?
Listen to the sound of the dumbfound!
You’ll unearth things you'll despise.

The three turned. Saw. Ran. The girl lay there in the car. Bleeding arm and blood pool beside her head. Her clothes torn. Feathers of the peacock. Brilliant and lost. Pulled out with a vengeance of guilt. They were bread with it.

- To keep it in your gallery
In a careless pot of gold
To show to Mrs. Hillary
How high your head you hold
Not your fault Mr. Gunner
You did what you thought was told
It is the fault of the simple feather bird
That thorn instead it did not grow.

The glorious stone had hit the car at the right time, she was only hurt. Not ravaged. The boy went up to her. Puppets of cowardice like me moved behind him. Reminding myself that I could have saved her as well. Convincing myself that it was a fact. Looking into her eyes. The streams had put sediments on her cheeks. She was crying. Lying there and crying.

- Oh! Sweet angel thy feathers shall grow
How that will come about, I don’t know

He reached for her. David. The hero of ancient ages. He had slain goliath. He reached for her and took her away. And those eyes with her went to despair.

- is it necessary to claim what one wants. Why not earn it? Is it a flaw in the human mind that we want things and we force ourselves to forget the right way to achieve it? Or is it just a flaw in the education system? The moral system? The code of law that has been delivered to us through the ages; through the sages? Are we sure that it does not promote desperation rather then salvation? Man is not a beast but a worshiper of cunts. Too eager to go back to where he came from. Why are the men that don’t worship this slit in the human genome; despised?

- Nietzsche said that man is the stepping stone, the middle of a rope which connects the evolution of apes into super man. This is how it was supposed to be. Probably. If you want to believe it. This was how nature intended it to be. But then the gods came in and then apes became man, only to become apes again. The complete evolution of evolution.

- The power of wrist;
The wisdom of your fist;
Your dramatic wonder;
Divine nature;
Is, all, lost.
Because
We lacked
The dream.

So I say to you come I will show the ape-man.

Lunetic Lake

I can not return riders
I have wandered too far
You can sweat the same road
I left the strange door ajar

How sick would it be
To fill all of life
With two promises
To live or die

There are horns waiting
Jingles, ribbons and wine
How wierd at the end
If death not be mine

Oh promised grave, delight
That musty strange smell
My odour wont be ruthless
Just my soul; stench.

I have lived long and hard
A sore in the head of time
Travel to the ancient hour
Surreal limits, hand in dime.

Through that dream we soaked
Beside the moment of utter wake
Right before we slipped into
Deaths promised lunetic lake.

My Bad...

"Don’t swallow your food. Chew it.", the darling mother said. She wanted her child to live long. “Not chewing your food properly, effects your digestion. If you want to live long, you need to chew your food properly". How strange was her love; her wish. How could she guess, that food would be the only reason of demise, in this strange and sordid world without choice.

"You have to listen to your mother", spoke a gentle male voice, “Son."

The day of crumbling had far approached. The rumblings of sin had long been mounting. No deed was right, in its effect. The holy books saved no one from their eventual deaths. The day of judgment is here. God is calling, listen! we have to hear. HE arrived on the scene, the omnipresent, the all knowing; in a great chariot, driven by slaves; his personal disciples; angles we call them. He summoned all to attend.

The vast eternity was too small for his voice. It reached the further ends of the void. Of this universe. Of all being. The earth had become full of evil, so the creator had decided to shut off the seen; seeing. He had had enough! He stood upon some strange psychedelic platform of drifting colors. It seemed like a vast ocean of creativity. Man could have swum in it and discovered; himself. But it would have been blasphemy. You do not share gods knowledge. We were to live in ignorance, for philosophy was a sin. And we had to do good. Because good is the only route to attain the kingdom. But the good was not good, because to understand good we had to attain the knowledge of it. And hence would have sinned. So no one knew what good was. Man was just meant to be manipulated by ignorance. And our great lord was tired, of man’s ignorance.

“Now listen, I summon ye all. To this platform. The day of judgment is here. And all shall leave their bodies. And all souls shall drift towards this place. Ye shall all be judged in a moment. All the souls; the born, the dead and the once to be born. All ye shall be judged. And thy lord, me, shall be just. You can not question my judgment, for ye do not know as I know. And so come forth.”

And so the earth crumbled. And all of life turned to death, and flew, towards the omnipresent. And god started to judge, and condemn. All the holy ghosts struggled and opened the holy gates. Sudden light floated from inside. It filled in the space, it was deafening, loud and arrogant. It seemed to be deaf. It just had its own ways. Where it went was light, and the rest for it was only darkness. This was its understanding. The angels had opened the doors of heaven for those who would tread the stairs.

There were fathers and mother and sister and brothers, waiting in a long cue. All saying that god only knew. There were priests and pastors and communal charters, confident enough to know. The kingdom of heaven was theirs. There were more, but god only knew who they were, for no one knew them. They hadn’t been born here.

And each man’s soul came to the place and all his sins came flying from the deepest corners of some dreadfully dark maze. Alas! The burning world of sin was greatful to the king; the omnipresent. The souls kept flying anew. All were condemned for a reason or two. The stairway lay silent. None reached it as yet. And then came the turn of the gentle father and the mother and the son.

The son was a young boy of 6. His soul was hardly his. He didn’t even know what was going on. Such a pity for someone so small. His father was good and able. Young as he was, had tried to teach his son to be capable. His mother, oh! The caring fountain. The lovely beauty as she was. No sin could come of her. And they stood as a family in the presence of the omnipresence.

“Child ye have sinned! For ye did not listen to your mother.”
“Oh! Lord no forgive him”, cried the mother in agony of the future.
“Woman ye have sinned, for ye do not question my judgment. And ye son of man, the father of this ignorant child, and husband to this immoral woman, ye have sinned aswell, for ye took to scold your son. When in creating ye I made a gentle creature, never to harm. Ye have sinned for ye raised your voice”.

“Is there anything else my lord, that I have sinned for, or my family?”

“No ye have sinned no more. Ye have kept better then the others. But ye have sinned non the less, and did not repent. Ye did not lament after ye had sinned, and thus ye shall be put to hell”.

“As you command my lord, I would be most unhappy if I had not sinned, for I wouldn’t be able to live without my family”

“Son of Adam, ye are ignorant, ye do not know what ye say. I am the judge, and I am lenient, and forgiving, only ye had to repent”.

“Yes my lord, god, I can see that you are all you say you are, all they had said you would be”.

The Battle Of Evermore; The Symbol : Chapter 1

Lord wind helped the butterfly,
Dazed, enroute, protected under th' sky,
Ancient sun entangled in coloring,
On the yellow and white of its wing.

Gentle nature helped it over the hill,
Now it sat beside the queen on her sill,
The symbol of future on it stirred,
Fortune for the queen it brought; lingered.

Only for the appropriate eye to read,
Of coming days swathed in wicked greed,
For only the goddess, queen of light,
Such was the symbol on the butterfly.

She opened her eyes, glowing;
Butterfly held in her eyes, flowing;
She read the symbol with rabid calm
Hurriedly rose on her arm.

She deciphered no meaning useless,
Calculated the measure of the mess,
Anger bellowing under her breath,
But she only wispered at length.

"Come now black flags, riding;
Come on the cold wicked wind, hiding;
But cross not this land today
Greedy amoral as you stray".

You bringer of myseries,
Crowding faceless thieves,
I alone will shake your glory,
Translate it into a forgotten story".

Thus putting her promise in her heart
She lands her feet, to start
This day; mother earth puts across a smile
She feels the feet for a little while.

Something is spoken between,
No words can define what they mean,
The glorious queen has understood
What mother earth said to her foot.

Thus began the ancient war,
This morning as the forests roared,
The queen gallant, picked her staff,
And called the angels at day's half.

Soft swollen lips, wispered;
The names of the angels, spurred
With the wind, the message flew,
To all the horizons it blew.

Mother earth saw all this power,
From her eyes drew gentle shower,
She alone could foretell,
The future of gods as well.

She alone understood,
How these winged words stood,
The fortune they would bring,
All black flags, soon be crumbling.

The queen of light, aphrodite;
Gazed around outside;
From her lovely drapes today,
No black flags yet sway.

The chariots of the illuminant sun,
Swift across the horizon,
Rode to match and scale the hour,
Scaled along time's tower.

Laboured to take time away,
Memories mounting as they sway,
The present being churned;
Past; all churned glories earned.

Gentle queen, wore white crystal dress,
Magnificently flowing, touched the floor,
Calm and serene, her face bore no stress,
As messenger wind opened her door.

"My lady! I arrive this hour,
I swept aloud, all, too far,
I summoned all to this place,
All shall arive in much haste.

Angels woved through all the spheres,
All made aligience, and so their heirs;
Even now their horses trod this way,
They shall arive at the half of day".

Soft pink lids dropped over her eyes,
She pictured her words in sublime skies,
Resounding and echoing, away and afar,
Its meaning trailing; a shooting star.

Followed secretly the silence of wait,
The coming of the seven angelic troops,
Sun’s chariot trod at stupendous gait,
Lord Wind and Queen await the sound of hoofs..

***

No Eternal Reward Will Forgive Us For Wasting The Dawn

The Birth Of Tragedy

Scene Six

There is a grave in the middle of the stage. Enter Ray and Robby and Danny on stage, John is lagging behind.

(Ray) Hurry up John, we want to see his grave.

(John) You guys carry on, I’ll catch up at my own speed.

Robby is mournful and just looks back at John, but doesn’t say a word.

(Danny) I don’t know how to explain my grief. He was such a boy, I don’t think he will ever be replaced.

(Ray) He doesn’t deserve to be replaced Danny. Hold your senses. We’ll see him again in the other world.

(Danny) There is no other world, there is this and once someone is gone there is only grief for the one’s left behind.

(Ray) Come on Danny, I am sure Jim expected you to come wearing a hearty smile. And say words of love to him. Just show your love Danny. We are all sad. We all miss him.

(Danny) May be! (With a bent head).

They reach the grave.

(Ray) I never knew I would miss him as much as I do.

(Robby) You are right at that. (In an undertone)

John reaches the grave.

(John) That’s it?

Robby looks up at him, sad yet surprised. All the others ignore him. Danny walks up to the stone and touches it with love. Ray stands at the side staring at his grave.

(John) How did he fit in there? He was above six feet! This is too small for him!!

(Robby) John!! He’s dead now, please stop it. (On the verge of crying)

(John) I am serious! Look at that.

(Ray) You want to say something you can to his grave but just stop the stupidity. (Pauses) I think I’ll walk back to the car. You guys coming?

(Danny) I cant stand here I feel like half of me is dead. I think it would be better to go.

(John) Just give me two minutes. You guys proceed I’ll join you.

(Ray) Alright

Robby and Ray and Danny Exit. The way they had come.

(John) (Keeps staring the grave for some time) (In a very malicious angry tone he starts) So there you ARE!? Dead! Gladly gone to the kingdom of doom, is it? I hope you found your land of wine and wisdom and feasts! I hope they are treating you like a king. Such a fool you were. Took your girlfriend with you, or was she your wife?...No…You had married that reporter right? What’s her name? (Ponders) Patricia. Why did you do it all? Was this what you were born to do? Die on us? You almost killed me with you. But I am glad you are dead. Really glad. I hope you are having a nice time, in your own box.
(Mixed emotions, he is getting a bit sad) Were you human at all? Did you have any feelings? For anyone? Did you ever think of anything except yourself. You self centered moron. Were you for real? I don’t know what kept me attached to the band. But if you wouldn’t have died, I would have. I was tired of you and your pranks. And you knew that didn’t you? Ignored it all with that innocent smile of yours. What were you Jim? What were you? I didn’t understand you Jim. I never did? (Begins to cry) Nobody did. You were far ahead of your time Jim. Too much to take in one go. I didn’t hate you Jim. (Weeping) No I didn’t! I loved you too. I was just confused. And I was tired of baby sitting you. I think it was all our fault. I think we could have stopped you from doing this to yourself. But we were too scared. It was our fault. May be you were trying to say something and we didn’t understand. WE DIDN’T UNDERSTAND! Why didn’t we stop you? I don’t know and may be I will never forgive myself for it! We could have stopped all those girls from filling your mind with all the crap. From you going over board. But just like you; even we didn’t understand Jim. And you took it too far. You stretched it all and it snapped. And we just stood there, amazed, watching how you lasted all the time that you did. I am sorry Jim. I really am. Give us one more chance Jim. Just this once. I will stop you Jim. I will be your friend. One that you didn’t have in this life. I will be there Jim. We will all be there. Please come back Jim Please! come back! (Pleading). (Weeps and puts his head on the grave.)

Lights fade to black.

...End Of Scene Six...

...The End...