Saturday, September 14, 2013

The Tiny Tales

Our eyes had met for the tenth time now
with a golden shine on the peak
trying to convince our sights to
speak a little
for the sake of the
love which had been rekindled.

And then, later, however
after 20 years

We never got into a tiff again.


She knew she had no illness to suffer from
yet her mind was into it
for several years when she finally witnessed
no response from the statue
the 51st time, it had moved

shook itself apart

And broke itself into pieces of now and later.


He never knew he possessed those powers
Like when he was scribbling down on paper
the desires of his tomorrow,
his hands were transformed into feathers

For his time had come in the day to
be with his fellow birds.

Being a human was a choice he sustained.


Abduct the bitterness in me,
swallow the serenity
carry the soul upwards
and crush the menacing
ambiance around me 

And then ..... Then set me free
and visualize the novelty. 


And we cursed time like it was not going to hit us back

But it did.

5 weeks later, he committed suicide with my best friend from 165th floor.


"It was magic that she was creating,
with her lips floating on the paper
& hands designing the art in the sky.
It was a desire she had, 
to point them & then 

She was an immortal Witch".


She's like an evergreen beauty
she's everything I compare her to
she's magical,

They lamented : "Why"
I whispered: Because she's a non existing reality.


The ex lovers had bumped into each other
for the 60th time now. 
A new story had evoked at the very
61st interval

In the form of God. 


I don't want a handsome guy. I want somebody who is successful. 
Not in the Guinness book of World Record but with his passion. 
Good looks come with money. Talent comes with effort. 


He should be able to flaunt his passion in a way that mediocrity smirks.


Pain only happens to those who are outrageous. Wimps are not lucky enough to go through that light.


Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Losing the Battle 'Remains' Easy

There have been gazillion times of mishaps with me 
or perhaps the intended back steps
I have taken
Every time I go to prove myself in front
of a large crowd or just there. 
My hands faint
and my eyes shake
Like the good god is arriving
to filter my sins
Through the bitterness and crunch in me,
Deep own...somewhere
I...I so believe the rhyming of life
Full of spoons,
Full of knives
I bow in my presence to be a holy wish
Every time a foot step I raise  forward
the failure of the future envisioned 
Rushes down my spine 
Entering and residing in the veins of a defeated self.