Wednesday, December 22, 2004

G r e e t Y o u F a r e w e l l

Today I wanted to experiment a new kind of form. A hybrid of poetry and prose. Let's see how it comes out.

G r e e t Y o u F a r e w e l l

The sun sighs on a brittle afternoon
I inhale it
The motorway hums into a lifeless beat
I relish it

This is my day
Pallid and stowed away

Dusty flakes quiver under cloudless skies
I abide them
Ringleaders wade me past in cynical slides
I salute them

This is my day
I like it this way

Please dont throw me tales of magic
Or poems of love or happy ever afters
Or spotless smiles from children small
Or beaming woods in the glory of fall

I feel pain
No longer numbed
Pain for you
I see but you

Bated is my breath
Jaded is my heart
Wont you hear it well
As I greet you fond farewell

I seek no audience
No cameraderie, no sin
I greet you farewell
Not good morning

I know you ..
You never believe me

I know you from the touch of a grand mother
Her fingers curled in restraint
Caressing on my head,
Her skin creased
Creased as the time, over thoughts

I know you from the sound of the spring
With the song birds behind
The wilderness chirping
To the promises of joy
And the noises that are unheard by us

I know you from the first droplets of rain
The smell of the ground
The ballads of the clouds
Anticipation everywhere
As the forces fight in the heavens, with unfathomable emotions

I know you
I know you when I was born

What should I call you

When the snows melt in the mountains
As the early sun gets reflected
Along with the blueness of the sky
How does the water look..
Is there a name for its color
I will call you thus

When a young baby is born
In the earliest hour as the world welcomes
With the mother sleeping beside
When it smiles, and when it cries..
Is there a name for its emotion
I will call you thus

I dont know ..
I dont know what I should call you

So listen as I give you my greetings
My greetings of fond farewell

Go away

Let me live this day
Dont come in this way
Go away
Go away

Monday, December 20, 2004

S h a d o w s O f L a p u t a

Jonathan Swift, who is a genius far ahead of his times (only comparable to Lewis Carrol) mentioned about a world called Laputa. It's an imaginary place where people take up totally unrealistic projects which are not at all practical. This happens when reality is subjugated to the mental imagination. I am drawing an analogy with this to the much darker problem of submission of human soul.

G r a v i t y O f S h a d o w s

Aloha Laputa
Buena noche de vida
In the light of the Satan
Are shadows awaiting

Alleys so lean and writhing
Bordellos in line alluring
Get up and run through shadows
Give up and run from shadows

Shadows in mind and soothing
Chasing in time endearing
Hacking enticing pulling
They like you, make you nothing

The night of a writer
Reposed in Laputa
As the right of a fighter
And as the sight of a suitor

It's cold and they call it nothing
It's soft - draped in underclothing
It's light and smooth as shadow
Refined and glad and rusting


It's a shape in delusion
A rift and ablution
With rhyming illusion
The closing solution

Saturday, December 18, 2004

L o l i t a C i r c u s

Hmm.. Today I got so bloody bored with no one in the lab (everybody off to attend a conference) so I did the craziest thing possible - reading the lyrics of Christina Aguillera, Britney Spears and the like.

Come on.. Can you think of anything worse than that !! But yeah, I came back alive and unscathed.

And here is my response ;)

L o l i t a C i r c u s

Yeah.. My sugar pie
There is a rattle snake in your apple pie
When you look like a bimbo and you say
It's late O' darling ooh ooh ah aah

You walk like a flamingo
When all the guys say bingo
You are ripe down to the seeds
Swing like a flower and go, red dahlia

Baby, you twitter like a baby
Smells like a daisy, chweet baby
Not tonight, sometime may be
Sing and play little barbie, tra la laa laa

Won't you worry about the TV
Won't you worry about your lipstick
Girls like you on the TV
They talk like little beetles, and then they say 'oh yeah'

How gross is this chorus
Sirens in a big circus
Laughing and gaffing, and swaying their hips
Sick and wicked, and wrinkles and sin

Cut it, my lolita
Cuz you swing like a flower but sting like a mamba
Let go my liberty and lock up your puberty
You can have my love, and I will have a lemon tea

Friday, December 17, 2004

S o n g O f M o s e s

Do you remember those nights when you wouldn't get sleep. But loads of images keep running through your eyes with no effort, and seemingly without any end.

I wanted to convey this emotion. So this is what I came up with. Take a look :) and see how awful it is.
This is the first poem I have in this blog I guess !

S o n g O f M o s e s

I walk on, these runes on the sand
As he melts down, the sun on this land
Sad ocean, sits trembling and beyond
I wait here, like stones on the ground

My mother is a queen, she left me to the sea
Borne by the weeds, I am chained but never free
What is love, and what is pure honesty
Is there a name for true empathy

The time, it's never so ripe
So I turn to the sky
To wipe my life, and its pain
But so vain am I, to sigh
I bow to the vast grainy sand
And to the long night, now high

And then I lay still, and wide awake
So very still, and so wide awake

I stroll through forests and rip thorough torrents
I leap through tempests and swipe down currents
So very stil, and so wide awake
So very still, and so wide awake

I taste lightning and the brushwood burning
Grievances so narrow and penances of sorrow

Symphonies in color and dubieties in sake
So very still and so wide awake
So I am the lord, So I am the serf
Self is else, and else is self