locked in a photograph
looking at all peering in...
i stare, when you stare
and look
i am imprisoned
in my memories and mind
a photograph, blotchy,
blurred and sticking to the glass
my face plastered
my nose rubbed in the dirt
memories flood
and i drown
never fully sinking
always up till knee-high

...

It is winter all over again...
I am cold and blue.
The snow is no longer white
Harsh it is, muddied and brown.
A piece of that unholy mirror
Has pierced my heart...
I was mistaken.
It was not spring
It never was...
A twinkle blinds my eye again...
Tricking me once more.
I am back outside...
In the winter
In the cold
All alone...

trying to unwind,
moving out from the looming relentless fog...
standing in the darkness
i stand waiting to be unraveled.
tears; aren't they the best medicine?
frustrated, its all i count on.
letting my blood flow through these beads, the droplets..
a lump in my throat
for a reason i know not...
why won't it just go away...
why do i stand in the darkness
groping for something i don't know.
stupidity reaches new heights
as i solve my non-existent mystery
i am broken
for was i ever wild?
i am defeated
for did i ever struggle?

Not at my very best

Not at my very best,
I sigh.
To get myself back,
I try.
These fallen leaves
Are playing, dancing
And living their lives, their afterlives...
Oh they are running away from me.
The sands are slipping away;
The waters dripping away.
In self-pity, I am drowning,
To get myself back,
I try.
In the middle, in the eye
Of a whirlwind
I stand
Doing nothing,
Seeing all the world rewind.
My oh my
What have i gotten myself into,
Stagnant and numb
I stand
Doing nothing.
Watching houses, trees and lives fly,
I sigh.
Caught in its timeless moment
Stolen from me is a part of me
I stand
Doing nothing.
Not at my very best
I sigh...

Love to see you squirm

love to see you squirm;
the earthworm bitten by the ants
piece for piece in the sun...
in a mood to spit fire
all i see is the dark
your pain comes as the light
for i have been hurt
left there to turn,
grovel and shovel in that pain.
i am hence the sadist
but what of the pleasure you got
as i cowered and writhed
world has never doled you the judgment.
why is it a one sided business.
oh why am i always in the dark
in the wrong.
now i want to be in the light.
i want to be the one
to bask in the theater bright...
for once let me be the cruel one
wait, for once i am the cruel one...
for once i delight
in your candles getting out-puffed
oh! love to see you squirm...
Or maybe.. maybe not...

ain't not yet forgotten

fallen...
among them dirt.
still pure
untouched as ever.
an ink drop...
it swirls and twirls and dances
to the unknown tunes
of my mind
beauty may lie in the yellow
or maybe in the brown
it is all to be swum in
for us to be brave enough to drown
as it lies in the dust
neglected and distraught
it forgets its own color
its own worth
look for there lies its beauty
in its ignorance...
for it knows not
it aint not yet forgotten...

...

My latest of findings...
Love isn't familiarity bred; it isn't a rosebush, cut and pruned beyond recognition...
Those who have never gotten drunk, well, they have this preconceived notion of that very state... and this, more often than not, is far from what is in actual. It is far from what creeps in our imagination.
We quest for beauty, but never realize what beauty is. We try to find it in the glitter off a sequin or in the colors and fabrics...; but beauty more likely would lie in that twinkle in the eye; in that spit bubble of a baby; in the laughing gurgle of a brook...
We tend to bypass what is so obvious for what we think is obvious. We get conditioned to expect certain things in life, and often that is not what happens in reality.
When we get hit by love, it is not what the films depict, nor the love songs... for what they talk about is but the tiniest fraction of what it is. Love takes us by storm, not in the sense that everything happens more quickly, just that nothing is the same ever again. The moment it happens, world goes topsy turvy, or maybe you go topsy turvy... Ah! as I said, nothing is ever the same...
Love is the total unpredictability of predictability, if you get what I mean; it is a grape vine that goes all wild and just as it should be... Love is you and me...