Say-so

Say-so

Nine out of ten

My days are damn fun!

Wanna learn to follow suit?

Here’re the words n’ comments to boot!

 

 

Wake not in the morn (no, no, not ever done!)

Sleep till the mid-noon (sweet, sweet, sweet repose!)

Laugh not in the open (What! You a bloody moron?)

Hoard mirth in an inner urn (Way to go, way to go)

Run from things that’s weak (for murder can be mighty fun)

Hide well in something sleek (Never to go naked, never to go naked)

Say no when it pleases you (be hard, be cool, be dead to everything good)

Nod yes, to things askew (way to sow doubts in all the rest!)

Do the double-speak, and this is for keeps

(Be deadly vague if you can’t, even if everything beeps)

Blame others for all your faults (For you have none, can’t have any)

And make sure to muck up their privet vaults (nothing’s fair in life, if yes, then you’re not)

Spend like god out of others wallet (You are the ‘tax’ divine, born to collect)

Walk like a star, but don’ ever bite the bullet-

(Run like hell then, if showing the back is what it takes.

Butts are all alike when in flight guys,

They are a biometric feature only to erotic eyes)

Boys, never ever marry, it’s scary (If you’re a lass, listen to this, the guys just don’t tarry)

 

Follow these dicta; you’ll be safe n’ sound

Till death comes stalking, with its damn hound

 

 

Nine out of ten

My days are damn fun

An’ about the tenth, if you care to ask,

Can’t a fella sometimes cut himself some slack?

 

 

Nothing but Sense

 

 

 

Oh, this is how I walk

Just like this

This steady, this good, this handsome…..

Isn’t it cute?

And

Ain’t I the thing now!

 

 

 

Now tell me,

Can you find a ‘singular’ fault with it?

Look high and low

Look left and right, top and bottom

In and out

Isn’t it a sight to see?

My walk I mean?

 

 

 

( What!

Nonnonno,

God

That’s just a sthupid rumor

I don’t talk nonsense

Who said so?

Lemme tell ya,

They are totally, wholly, unilaterally sthupid

 

 

 

As an aside,

 What the hell is this thing called nonsense?

Never made its acquaintance before

It’s some sort of sense isn’t it?

(See how bright I am!)

And they say-

There are even things called the past and present senses! Man!

Now that I remember,

There is one called the future sense too!

 

I do them too

On the side lines of course

Who has the time to do all the senses

All the time!)

 

 

 

You know, talking of the world all the time

Makes us forget about our own selves

Now tell me,

What’s our binary duty (or is it primary?)

It’s to ourselves, isn’t it?

And, God I am philanthropically inclined too

(That one, whoa! That one, boy,

Is one incline that is tough!)

 

 

 

Everything is a little perambulatory today

Oh is it circulatory?

Oh whatever!

Just think!

How do we communicate with each other?

Have you any ideas?

Hmm, you see,

I need to talk my walk

What a fix!

 

 

Shift

Strange,

When someone looks up

The sky hasn’t changed

The sea hasn’t changed

The rocks, the trees, the snails

And the birds haven’t changed

 

Only the mind has changed

The angle has changed.

 

Odd still, as somebody sleeps

The dreams are still there

Fears are yet severe

More the nightmares

 

Only the view seems different

The sights are no more awry!

 

 

 

 

 

Unstuck

Nothing sticks, not words, nor gestures

Mind even, love doesn’t, play wouldn’t.

Dies the day, nights fade off, a child so goes-

Never does being stay…..

 

 

 Doesn’t stick a thing, sea mayn’t, rain never

Pipes vacuum spew, Field pulsate,

Rock changes to soil, Men seed-turn,

And the sky never lasts!

 

 

Not something stick, mud evolves to cake,

Slough seize granite, frogs snatch birds, Dino

Mutate, ‘today’ is electrocuted,

And tomorrow never comes!

 

 

Nary has a thing stuck, not a granule

Nor the dribble on a lip after a peck

Not the infinitesimally minuscule

Nay, nor the imponderably large,

No, no, not anything sticks…….

 

 

What is? For, not a thing last,

Not even remains remain

It’s fickle to hold myself true,

I never am; can I ever be?

Can any be?

( One can’t be un-silly it seems!)

Can’t Know What

I can’t but love!

Yet what?  I don’t know that!

I can’t but grieve!

What at? Death? But I don’t know THAT!

 

I can’t but something- know!

You bet! But I don’t know what!

Concerned

Louis IV

 

Type word.

Dot it.

Circumvent it.

Vanish.

 

 

abracadabra

 

Lush July, fickle me…

Birds in flight…

Sky, the selfsamesilken lava…..

What’s in me? Care of love?

 

 

Descartes

 

Poisoned by night,

I die at dawn.

Worry little, this is no return, only that, a hiatus is desultory and produces nonsense

Cauldron Cool

credit:wallpedia.org

 

 

Slowly………..

Oh, how slowly some days end……!

 

 

Hushed with voices, muted with whispers

Slashed through with crimson lines….

Wanton with faulty ardors,pale deeds,

De-numbered out of diaries and schedules…..

And sweat stained with apathy

So self-destructed…….ruined…

Erased…..

 

Ah……………….so mercifully-

………erased.

 

 

Yet the brain doesn’t rust at night

Its vassals change into demons in dark.

(Gnashing teeth, foaming maw

Ghosting snares, chilling paw)

Yes, it’s dainty death in scaly grab!

 

 

Ah………

 Life does thaw and wither at night

 

 

Begin other days rank anew

Swift slithers, grins, accolades

Tidy pauses, myriad plans

Chance pleasures, incumbent delights

Grander vistas of limelight jaunts…………

 

Ah…. dreams are out- the cauldron cool.

 

  αΩαΩαΩαΩαΩαΩαΩαΩαΩαΩαΩαΩαΩαΩαΩαΩαΩαΩ

 

‘Snarl’

I
I fade into the shadows I see in my mind,
I lose myself in them, and they take me over.
For, I am these, inseparable from them -
So one with them that I become a conglomerate
Of feelings, passing thoughts, urges and
Inclinations……

In moments of repose
All come back to me in fragments, splintered by
The passage of time, torn-
Pieces of a puzzle that I am living, events of yore
Dim remembrances, emotions once gone through
Now having not the strength of reality
To awaken the old feelings once again.
Faces long lost to the abysses of mind
Sights which drove hot shafts into the being….
All are there, in these shadows……..

II

A pale noon is playing outside , it’s very still
The bushes stand frozen, the wind has died
The dirt in the panes that I am looking through
Has entered my soul, it’s all very dim
I see the summer written large
In the heavens, some call it spring, but we
Don’t have seasons here, it’s all without reason
Rain blubbers for half the year and
Then it’s the rage of summer. There
Are no transitions, only transitory passions –
Damp and fierce. Tropics kill the soul, by
Strangling all the seasons .
There is only the glare of sun and the slush
Of rain all the year round, all the year round….

III

This Calendar is old, the pages are torn
And the color has faded, I search for a date
In May, I had jotted down something on it
Years back-
Something I should remember
But it’s no more there, was it made in pencil
And has faded since? I wonder.
It’s a thin memory, nothing very specific.

The one thing I pride myself in is a lack
Of retentiveness, I fail to remember all
That’s important and recall all that’s
silly. I search the dirty pages once more-
They are as hollow as a toothless smile.
What was I trying to call up?

Then some phantom comes up and says to me
“ This heat , you remember-
It was scorching that day, people fainted
trying to go through the throng”
Who is this, I marvel and I see no one nearby
May be its my double, may be its god.

But then sit back and remember
Something had happened in May,
and someone had asked me to-
Remember it and bring her a present
Some one very dear……….

IV
Seen through my eyes, everything partakes of-
My desires, and fashions themselves on them.
Then I am a child, reaching for sparkling flames,
Punished by a mother, reassured by a father.
Caresses and tears intermingle, pleasures
And pains seem seamless- merged into an
Unmeaning whole. I am then myself and
Want everything to be mine.

Stepping into the soul of others, I feel claws-
Of steel fastening on my wounds, tugging at my spirit
Shearing them, just like in some bizarre nightmare
Ever repeated, ever recreated, immersing-
Me in a gloom I have known all my life
Then I am a borrower-
Of fears, troubles, dreads and miseries.
None of it my own, but strangely seeming so.
How could anything be mine, unless everything
Merges into my being and I remember-
It being so from times that’s lost to memory .

Viewed from afar, one is just a speck , reveling in solitude
Trying to be whole, and failing in the effort-
One with nothing to hold on to, yet nowhere to go.
Strange it may be, but what’s stranger than judging
Something we are not, and can never be?

Within this snarl nothing is true. Ever
Winding itself into inexhaustible mirages
Something unwinds, whatever it is
Nothing has yet begun, and so
Nothing may end.

WHO

Wasn’t really  in the mood to write and  had scarce time at my disposal 

 

Yet I felt sorry for my poor and barren blog.

 

Somehow I couldn’t bear its sad looks. So with a Herculean  effort I kicked up some spirit and concocted these lines.  Do they mean crap?

 

Dunno my friends just dunno!

 

 

What fades, and what thrives?

Shrouding itself in the evanescent drool-

Of fickle thoughts and feelings,

What survives and what perishes?

 

 

 

Consciousness is mutable; yet what persists

Through the varying phantasms we spot?

Is it an elusive entity we know from somewhere?

Or is it the person called God?

 

 

This startling shape-shifter, this magician,

Who weaves a charade seemingly out of

Nothing, veils itself behind the nameless-

And seems ever present, yet beyond mind.

Arrangements

The night fell (it was so unexpected)

Bringing a slight chill and longing with it

A light breeze, clambering up the shaded scene

Laughed at it, soon to die away in a sigh

The sky, still gray, smashed down in specks-

Of black-blue, filling the bowl of earth in slow swelling waves…….

 

 

I watch,

And contrive…………..