Sleepwalk?

I felt.
I walked
to door.
I opened.
I froze.
The smile
gently rose.
and stuck on my lips.
"may you smile back!"
that's it.

-ides-

I feel cold,
I see you walk on toe-tip,
faint whispers from frail lips.
and I see the way you hide,
dissolving somewhere inside.

I see you in blur
fusing with others.
pushed by the chaos
to a deeper, darker side .

and you sway
you smile, deride.
I am in misery,
I am lost in a tide.

and you are flowing
in the circles of white
locking my sight,
with your maudlin eyes.

thoughtless, I hope to move
but my ankles are tied.
You are blooming in full glow
as I chafe, stuck in ides.

I am so afraid
I am so concerned about myself
that I may lose, that I may need help.
that you may no longer be there
tired of the wait
tired of me being so late.
tired, just tired.
and then you will walk away.

and you did walk away.

Ciao!

Spring and after effects.

Well I,
twitched and twirled
whirled and swirled
had a laugh
had some fun.

For once I,
didn't thought
what is what
drink or drought
stopped to learn

And I freed myself
from all the worries
and
all mordant thoughts
all the sob stories

and then,
I pulled myself out of harm
and then,
I scurried to your arms.

B-Bye

But where was I,

When the spring blew whistles

Over the swaying trees?

And where was I,

When golden foliage was getting

Crushed Beneath novelty’s feet?

Where was I, then?

Where were you?

Ah! Listening to birds’ ephemeral songs,

We strolled sans care on the ageing grass,

Deeming in that it will last.

You flipped your creed.

You were there, I see.

But where was I, then?

May be I was outside your glass palace,

When you were blowing those mournful sighs,

Glancing over shoulder, to your wasteful dreams.

Forgetting a part of that waste was “I”.

Trespassing your memory kaleidoscope,

My face must have surfaced and then eloped.

As you jittered inside your glasshouse,

I saw you.

Yes, I was then, there.

And I am still, here

Outside your house of glass,

Among the insignia of past.

I see you,

You have emotions still waving

As you laughed, you smiled

And then you cried.

You are still living,

I am watching you numb,

I have already died.

************************

Dyed Eyes die ( or beauty fades) (or Someone loves what someone hates)

I boarded a ship and it was tied to the port.
For 2 years it dint move.
I looked at the doves from far off.

and all the while she saw me and smiled.
played with her hair, and her eyes- dyed.

Autumn greeted with sly smile
winter was harsh and riled.
few counted their memories
few mouthed their ghostly nights.

and all the while she saw me and smiled
played with her hair and her eyes- dyed.

Changing colors, my friend and I see
dancing lights under a prism display.
I wanted to cross the river of guilt.
he wanted to enjoy the show wallowing in bay.

and all the while she saw me and smiled
played with her hair and her eyes- dyed.

Then one day, as I walked off the boat
into the glimmering lights of shore.
She walked beside, close to my face
time stopped for the angel draped in lace.

and all the while she saw me and smiled
played with her hair but her eyes died.

My commiserations
but beauty fades!

Radiohead plays cold and etc.

Sigh! Lovely things buried inside.
his voice, it is mixing with music.
guitar lures me too deep.
Closed eyes smile, weep.

Voice is gold plated
replete with sense
tied to the pain
glaring vague lens.

The music flows,
then spin, spin around him.
tying knots to his hand.
water rising up the knee.

he breathes his songs in
his stainless steel lungs, they burn.
he laughs- "who cares what to win".
his stainless steel lungs - dry, done.

And the film rolls
credits in bold.
A head with a radio
as music play cold.

But I am listening still.

Poet's Note : Currently listening to Radiohead music... B-E-A-UTIFUL!

My footprints over a velvet underground.

what I have now?
Let's see -
few words that don't match
the thoughts in my mind
and thoughts, whose meaning
I am unable to find

A voice shouting Sunday morning,
and the roof, which I haven't seen
for so long.
A velvet undergound,
where I am gagged and bound.

Oh he says again, "It's a restless feeling,
oh, it is wasted years, that you are dealing"

and I say (rather should say)
"wait, you idiot, let there be day.
You will hide then,
your brother will creep out of shadow.
because you are young and callow."

And because it is late.
because it is too late.

Sleep off now.
You fool!

Poet's Note: "Sunday Morning" by Velvet underground...Exquisite.
Late night scribbling...as always .. Rooobish.

Purloined thoughts

Keep quiet
open the windows
duck below
there is a lesson
there is a lesson
to be learnt.

He is a shadow
he can never be alone.
but is dark.
He's a broken star
He's a blinded star
mend him please.

She is a lore
Her children are bore
They go to slumber
as she remembers
herself
herslef
listen to her please.

She is so fine
marble skin washed in wine.
He drools at someone else
She waits alone, never tells
her heart is broken
her heart is broken
kiss her please.

I am in here
with blank stares
closed corners
confining borders
take me out in open
bring me out in open
leave me there please.

Oblique...for it is too late (or too early)

As I grow old
I become less mystic to myself.
My shine is lost.
I am getting engulfed in whirlpool
spitted out of dream.

And I can see you
swirling in,
laughing
or smiling.
It is too fast, hard to tell difference.

But do I know you?

I am not irritated.
For I don't want more than much.
I am singing a song maybe
but hell, the same song, a lot of people have sung.

But what if I hum a different tune.
what if it is the one which only I hum.
or beat the drum like ...dum da dum dum.
whats the difference, if I am one of thousands or alone.
whether I stand in the front or the last one in the queue.
Among many or enchanting few.

Is it a start or the dying end.
Tell tell me dear friend.

For look at this huge land
I need to cover this.
But only till the sun shine.
And I slept when it was dark.
I dint see the sun rise.
and now the sun is red.

tell, have I slept too much
or too less?
Tell me have the battle begun?

For I can see only a red sun.
For all I can see is a red sun.

May be it's time. I am done.
May be it's time. should I run?

Maybe it's time.
maybe.....

Longings and Belongings....

It’s been time.

Leaves have fallen by
as autumn strikes.
Dry winds and dry sky;
Dry skin and dry eyes;

left behind.

I see through the clocks,
And they turn and turn.
But I have been tied
unable to run.

As I remember you,
and your pearl smile.
your crayoned lips,
your penciled eyes.

and those pebbles thrown over the lake,
the counts of the bounces they did take.

And I think of
your creamy fingertips,
your enchanting whims.
your swing,
over the tyre tied to tree,
those closing eyes,
as oscillations increase.

And I hope still you stop
and turn around,
to a hunch of my
footsteps’ sound.

And I hope,
Still you dance
those steps I taught.
Yeah, I hope,
still you dance
to the tunes of yore.

So, if I left my crystal heart
under your fluffy stole;
and you don’t notice and I don’t recall
then sorry, now I can’t stop
let it fall.

Let it break,
It’s fine.
Belongings undone.
It’s been time.

Longings-
Still have me trapped.
To you, I am still wrapped.

With time I have found the knot,
holding it but still lost in thought.

I know with single pull,
I will unwrap, unhook.
Still my heart waits,
with that last, lamenting look.

Rabbit Burrow

A man of polystyrene,
a decorative accessory,
fated, snoozing alarm
is he but not me.

Smiling twisted scotch tape
with a suspended animated gape
a gut feeling dropped, drained
is he but not me.

And he can never grow out of my name,
my job, my wallet, my nod, my state.
What a shame! What a shame!

He darts agony at them,
sips quiet wasteful tears,
sounds as last note of a requiem,
waving ship, he steers, he steers.

And he laughs!
handshakes, jokes, tricks
Alas! he laughs.

He jerks in a fit,
breath of angst.
No humour. No wit.
Still he laughs.
Still they laugh.
Alas!!

lets scratch the walls
of my brains now
as he is asleep under the lullaby of world
shove the earth. damn! plough, plough.
I had buried myself down there few years back.
I have come back for myself now.

Scratch! Scratch! Scratch! Scratch!


The above piece is all about discovering the real self which we have left behind in pursuing something that we think we need to have. This is about the people who realize that they have become a "He" and lost an "I" buried down under a burrow.

Chance and Loss

Her eyes - ruby, diamond, emerald type.
Her words, honey drops purified.
I love the way she twitched lips,
she swirled her fingers over the coffe mug.
Dint you notice , din't you notice how beautiful she is?

Clock has stopped talking,
time has passed crawling beside me.
I am still here.
and she is here waiting.

If I was you
would not have let her gaze across the tinted glass
would not let her wait
brought the buildings down
sank the rivers
crossed the mountains top
to be with her
but I am not you.

Oh! You damn fool
Oh! damn fool
I am here and you are not
but she waits for you
Oh damn, you fool
She waits for you.

Come along now.

PAUSE

Why Time turn?
why can't he lie over his crooked back
with his face turned to other side,
clasping Change under his arms,
embracing her face to his breasts,
enticing her with his lullabies?

Why Time wake up
and let Change fly?
swashing away the composure of centuries.
and belittling every great try.

Why time has to be so adamant?
Can't for once he let her go?
break his promise to be with her?
Just wait, date a date.
marry a week, commit to some month?
be with them and not bail out again,
Not run away, again.
to be with her, to be with his Change?

Isn't he alone? Isn't he tired
for centuries now?
Running over the tombs of oblivion,
leaving footprints over history
and then overrunning those steps
in order to catch Change
to embrace her, to feel complete.

Why can't time just be late?
have patience, be static, wait,
tied to a single state?
Stranded on a moor,
with his great white beard
flowing in the breeze
and his dreary eyes fixed
over the blank blue horizon.

and for once,
let her pass,
let her go.
and be in peace.

Ultrasound

So, you think you know it all
you can sieve right from wrong.

So, you think you can tell
where lies beauty and where is hell.

So, you think you are so smart
up your sleeves all wining cards.

so, I should let you decide,
which path I should ride.

and in your beamishing voice, you say
you will hide me secure, never let me astray.

explain me all the drifts of game
keep me away from the hurting flame.

but sorry, sorry I can't understand
your sweet music is just a blaring band

and sorry, I can't hear you aloud
Just stop talking in this ultrasound.

My mistakes, let them be my own mistakes
let me lose my share before something I take.

Let me bruise, skin my belief while alive.
let me wither, shouting at top of my voice.

Let me play with my own hand of cards.
let me lose, let me be distraught.

I just don't want to win, I want to be proud.
So stop babbling, stop talking in this ultrasound.

Sorry and likewise

You stood chewing your lips
I waited with silent poise
our glances were the thieves
stealing images of lowered eyes

You din't speak,
I couldn't think what to
Young; we talked so much
still got this hush in lieu

It wasn't fair! Not fair!
But sorrow has everyone's share

So, I bade farewell,
no tears fell
neither any promises exchanged

An apology was paid with my weary eyes
and your dolorous look soughed- "likewise".

Spring Boots

Downwards,
I face earth;
revolving land
comes closer,
surrounding me
in fading colors.
I am alarmed.
how quickly I fell?

and I wish
I could recoil.
Then, can we reconcile?

If somehow I pull out
my spring boots
and rebound, re-shoot
up; up to you.
Will you say "hi"?
or derisively-"nice try".

Gravity bangs my head to past
I remember my foolishness
I am sorry; I am aghast.
I deserve the fall.
But I can stall,
if you can
pardon my heinous crime,
give me one more chance,
just this one more time.

Then I will bring out my spring boots
I will rebound, re-shoot
up; up to you.
and will never plunge into depths again
before I crash, call my name,
call me to bring out my spring boots,
one last time rebound, re-shoot
up; up to you.

and I am going down!!!

Sunglasses

What was there to see?
It was all cliched
It was all predictable
It was cleanly ordered
and was fairly labelled

The mob had all the known gestures
the greetings were rehearsed the night before
the weather turned out damp and grey
as good as the forecast had foretold

Disinterested people weren't interesting
so I din't push my efforts in vain
I concealed myself into darker sights
I didn't even try to feign

I strolled amongst us for a while
sticking along a polite smile
and then after a while
I slipped inside to hide.

What??

Little drops are
now bubbles in the sky
My dreams grew wings
My dreams can fly!!

And as sunlight crosses
a rainbow splits
I had slept alone
But I woke up amidst !!

for the shine,
the winged reflections,
are causing relaxing swell
along the suiting contractions.

Everything, now above my eyes.
All are enrolled in my sense
Flying, flying , flying away
are these my desires or pretense??

A brazen mockery of weak!!!

In the twist of fate,
The weak die; the weak wail;

They crawl on their knees,
They blame the gods.
They genuflect to the greats,
and offer a servile nod.

They cry their tears,
And mitigate their selves.
They are Agony of misery,
Misfortune of whelps.

They cry for morals,
and the equality of beings.
and decry the flight
of a hero with wings.

They live in the world,
foregone and unseen,
with their trivial wants,
but unending needs.

They always crib
with smile on their face.
won't leave any footprints,
no trace, except their graves.

They journey their wasteful life
through the much trodden path.
befool their guilt and aver,
"these landmarks, everyone pass."

That it is the way of life
to bend and to retreat.
To face the life bare self
can only be a moron's dream.

Oh! but the mighty,
he laughs at destiny's call.
he merely tweaks his presence
and the mountains fall.

He bends the laws,
makes gravity fly.
Lives like an Immortal,
and let mortals die.

Objective Intellect

There were dunes,
and there were times.
There was a whistle,
and an uncanny rhyme.

and I was dwarfed,
sometimes by my thoughts,
my shines, my bloats
and my naked little footsteps.
I was belittled, I was dwarfed,
manytimes by my dreams
my carings, my screams,
and my unhindered desires.


The seasons went meaningless,
The scenery changed so fast,
the difference was left to rest.
and I was left meaningless.

The multicolored throng
tightened close,
looking at horizon,
cried out the prose:

"What you want changed?"
"What you would have?,lad"
"How it would have been,
if it wasn't to be this?"
"Would any changing in past
will lead you to your wish?"

and I know, they have me caught
No excuses or remorse can be bought
and with dwindling self
I admit with a shaking voice,
"Nothing better; Nothing worse"
and they say in unison
"Then just REST!! REST!! REST!!"