Thursday, November 26, 2009

On Fire

The wide world that shut its doors on me,
seemed like a giant reflective vampire.
A vampire, that sucked not my blessed blood,
but the very roots of my insouciant being.
With all the pain, came threads of pleasure,
and I floated around happily for a little while,
twirling slowly in my little black dress.
I closed my eyes and felt wonder in the air.
With open arms, I embraced the radiance.
Burnt my hands, my open arms- the wretched flame!
I looked around, my world was on fire! Raging!
My blissful apathy took the weighty blame,
and I watched ignorance turn to dirty ash.
The mirrors on the walls reflected the chaos,
and I wondered how I could still see my reflection?
The flames seemed to resemble me. And you.
I stood in the middle, awaiting confrontation.

Friday, November 20, 2009


Just when the hamster thinks the world would stand still,
his hopes turn into a pointless whirl of revolutions,
and he watches his vision blur into a splash of colors.
With the crimson shades of jealousy and anger leading the pack,
and the blues of diurnal life following suit. Rather sincerely.
The yellow of a few rays of honest sunshine that find their way,
into the omnipresent dark spaces of the capacious cage.
The hamster's smile, a broad white flash of light,
while a hidden sinister motive flaunts a deathly green.
The murkiness of life imbued in a dirty, dark brown.
And yet, his hazel eyes look so glorious in the sunlight.
When he collides with the broken bits of a certain milestone,
he shares a familiar tenor with their sheen and texture.
The medley of tongue and taste- a ballet of senses!
All the world, a bittersweet violet!
Or, is it purple? Indigo? Olive?
The sky, a morbid gray, a stark blue, a deathly red!
And the ocean, a thirsty empire of blues and greens!

Divinity, not a pearly white, but a fierce motley!
Divinity, a cuisine of contrasting tastes!
Divinity, an outburst of overriding emotions!
A volcano, a quake! A whole evolution of Man!
Tethered to a lifetime, stands a lone day!
Colourless, at first. Colourless, in the end.

Thursday, November 12, 2009


Rumble, mumble, toss and tumble!
Up and down, and came around,
this silly drop of water that sang
a song that cheered the gloom!
It screamed and squeaked,
merrily danced and leaped!
Across the oceans, across the sea,
It waded through all, to be free,
but found that it was bound!
Oh, silly hound! Silly, silly hound!
Rotund and stupid, just like cupid,
with an aim to cheer, drink some beer,
and loaf around with a ready dart,
to pierce my heart, O my dear heart!
Bounded from cloud to cloud,
get a life, for cryin' out loud!
You imbecile mutt, don't you strut,
and make a fool of yourself!
Don't let go of yourself! DON'T!
Bam! Thud! Crash! Boom!
There you go, I broke you.
And now I dance to triumph!
A little jerk, a little step!
A little sway, a little shake!
Cringe as you may!
Not a care in the world,
None at all!

Sunday, November 8, 2009

The light that pierced the sore eyes,
gently woke the devils of darkness.
The sonorous snores that had reverberated,
across the night, across the bower of sleep,
led to a mild quake in the mind,
and the crystals on the shelves,
fell with a loud crash, onto the floor.
Splintered across the mind, they hurt.
Panic! Many a foot rushed about!
A startled gasp, here and there!
Everywhere! Mayhem, mayhem!
A kick of zeal, and a bite of joy,
even though the dough of madness,
prevents another dominant flavour!
Amidst the scenes of serene chaos,
there rang a dulcet melody!
As I woke up to another nightmare,
I found myself alive.

The Ghost of Christmas Past

The scepter of the past came swooping upon my present.
It brought with it lustful memories and chunks of intimacy.
I desired not the sweetness of the dessert of Nostalgia,
as much as I craved a vial of venom brewed in bitterness.
The intensity of love turned time to cold, white marble,
and I watched the scepter carve a morbid sculpture.
Grotesque and ghastly, the sculpture and the scepter.
Adamant at procrastinating an impending peregrination,
the scepter resided in the obscure crevices in my mind.

The echo of its shrill laughter making me cringe in agony;
the shadow of the forgotten sunshine making me wither;
the tingling of taste with sweet romance making me choke;
the mirth that had slipped into the past making me cry;
and the sheer flow of Life, conspiring a murder...mine.

Sunday, November 1, 2009


The tiny drop of trust lay peacefully,
on the wrinkled brown leaf in my hand.
I watched it quiver, shake and shiver,
along with my tired, trembling fingers.
It reminded me of a blue-eyed infant,
swaying to the music of his Ma's voice.
He, who falls over, over and over,
only to be picked up lovingly and fondled.
That child then gazes at the stars above,
and tries to map out a life that shines.
His twinkling map has naught to proffer,
but flowers of love, mirth and fame.
Little does he know of one-ways,
dark alleys and sudden dead-ends;
for life, for him, was always just a
mere stroll in the verdant park,
or at most, a jog on the rumbling seashore.