Some early-morning clarity served up in cut-crystal,
A penny drops,'clink-chink!!' echoing against the exhausting eternity of consciousness,
That maybe when the shot finds its mark, when the sleeping pill overdose takes its course,
when the footstool slips away from under feet, when the pavement rushes at the incoming skull,
when the bathwater turns crimson red, when the lungs have surrendered to asphyxiation by gas,
It is not this life that is traded for death, but the weight of all thoughts, all fears, all dreams, all hopes,
The accumulation of this emotional excess,  finally slides out of the once-throbbing chest...

TNT

Feeling the earth shudder under her feet once more,
She felt a strange kinship to a stone quarry,
Her three-dimensional landscape having been explored, sized up, drilled with explosive-laden holes and blown violently up to the sky, Just another source of construction material...
For those who now left behind a wasteland - an unsightly blemish on the panorama

Mice and men

It'll hold you together - my love that is a thing of absolutes, 
So that when I leave, it'll pied-piper away each and every piece of your being

 Strange are these humans, strange is their nature,' said one star to another
 The strangest perhaps they are when they tie their life with another,' said the other.
'Demons they seem to seek, where there are none to be found,
 experience cautions - much happiness in love a bad omen, it says,'
'Yet the most apparent demons -claws, fangs and all - shall no eye perceive,
 bleeding preferred to drowning, too deep in the ocean of love might they be seen,
'you see, to implode is a trait we thought we had mastered, for this is how we die,
 but burning out from within to without, is their way of being alive' the stars agree.

Origami Blossom

They say, you can fold a sheet of paper, no matter how big or small, only up to seven times
Didn't you know that?
Did you think you could stick your fingers in the back of your throat and throw up the bad taste in your pert mouth?
Did you think you escaped the infernos with just the wisps of black on your silken cheek, oblivious to soot-choked in your lungs?
Did you think you got away unscathed, seeing your pretty face in the mirror and not the scars of the gashes that used to be wings on your back?
Did the think the fallen stars in your eyes and the salt of your tears would anneal into tinted glasses and shield you from the glare?
Did you think you could start afresh? Start from scratch? Bury the hatchet? Turn the page?
My darling, my incurable fool, you hapless romantic, look at yourself? You have fingerprint-soiled creases all over...
Listen, hold on, stretch out and let your lungs breathe, don't you dare wait about,
Till you are all folded out...

Prose too prosaic for you

You hold a book, a book I love, it casts a shadow upon your face,
You burrow into words that have you smitten as they had me,

Your beautifully dense brows furrow and your eyes dart back and forth,

Devouring each page with a lusty appetite, you lean forward, completely taken,

It is probably nothing to anyone else, but you seem to me, most pervious,

You look like you should be touched, like you call for an embrace, that you are but to be loved,

With no real reason to help me understand, why in mundane activities, so star spangled you seem,

There is nothing to help me cope, with the feelings you draw out of me, why with you I’m malleable and ductile,

If there was a polaroid that could capture my life this moment, there you’d be reading, brown-gilded into sharp focus, everything else barely blurred noise ….

Three words too few

There are days when 'I love you', is not nearly enough, 

When I am battered for the words to tell you how I feel, 

There should be better words, words that sing, words that bleed, words that bloom and whither all at once, 

How about, 'I the-perfect-orb-of-your-shaven-head-is-my-world you'?

How about, 'I feel-liquid-when-you-gather-me-in-your-arms you'? 

How about, 'I my-fingers-search-for-you-to-touch-even-when-there's-no-you you'? 

How about, 'I laugh-at-our-post-coital-jokes-in-bed-alone you'?

How about, 'I can't-say-goodbye-not-for-five-minutes-of-separation you'?

How about, 'I your-voice-has-brought-me-back-to-life you'? 

How about, 'I would-wait-at-street-corners-forever-to-see-you you'?

How about, 'I can-hear-the-symphonies-in-our-silences you'?

How about, 'I stare-at-you-stare-at-me-and-the-world-stops you'? 

How about, 'I don't-wanna-wash-my-hair-to-preserve-your-scent you'?

How about, 'I will-never-let-go-of-a-world-you-are-in you'? 

How about, 'I love-you-will-never-be-enough-for-our-love you...'?

I knew I'd love you forever 

When my pencil started scribbling poetry

Instead of bucket lists 

The Silent Deep

For the longest time I believed that in loving as overwhelmingly as I do,

I was setting you up to fail, setting you up to falling short, 

It's taken me years to figure out that love was always meant to be an ocean, 

That looking at it you must think the world ends at the water's edge, 

That when love should feel like an amniotic sac, 

It took me years to figure out that it wasn't me, 

You just didn't have the sea legs to traverse my love 

Scalpel to the bone

The end of a bad relationship is quite like an amputation,
You endure severe trauma to the limb of your heart,
You keep at the macabre exercise till you cannot breathe, just cannot,
You closely probe the excruciating limb that is now infected with toxins of your hurt,

You do your best to infuse the limb with antidotes of self-reconciliation,

You methodically record your skin's pallor, your knotted stomach, your sunken eyes, 
You clinically note that your limb is dead and that it's poisoning the rest of you,
You mourn the limb and its years of servitude and its embittered death,
You pick up the glinting blade, bite down as hard as you can and slice right through, 

You survive

Flip-a-coin Love

Now we are one, I'm at peace yet not at peace, I'm miserable yet not at all, I'm bouyant yet I'm dragging my feet, I'm a believer yet I'm bullet-riddled with doubts, I'm both blessed and damned... I'm the ocean and the sky...What is love but a tousled paradox...? 

Shore to Shore

A hundred miles away from you and you're still here, 

Your voice is the original score of my mind's reel, 

I'm watching the tanned sun sink into the ocean bed,

My fingers trace our name as one, into the sand, again and again, 

I've told the ocean our secret, my love 

I watched her gather us to her ample chest, 

At every land she touches, every shore she kisses, in every drop she sweats, 

Our name will resound, again and again

The Fiend in the Night

Sinister shadows in the dark room, Shaped like empty palms,
Like lonesome waists, Like naked arms embracing nubilous night air,
These shadows, they find me, they find me, they find me...
I stay awake at night, soldier at attention, rifle drawn, eyes peeled,
I watch the clouds froth the starry-cauldron of the witching hours,
I lie in this bed of thorns, await the roseate silhouette of dawn, count the hours till morn,
I twiddle thumbs and bite nails through the sun's awakening epoch,
They will bring you to me, these rays, In day I will find you by my side again,
But I don't like these nights without you,
I am a child and the monster's under my bed, standing over my head,
It is filling me with an ensanguined, nauseating dread,
The night is no longer my friend,
Until I can be your lover again... 

No matter who you are, what you have seen,
If you are a lover and if your heart's beating to another's tune, 

I know two things about you, Lover 

You have found in yourself a dreamer 

You will find that time is your friend, never 

Wear down my veneer

I think all of us are always looking to be seen,

I think when we are drawn to someone,

We are so eager to be someone they see,

We don body paint that we think they can perceive, 

All the while hoping against hope, that they will call our bluff and wash off the paint, 

See us naked and love our mangled core,

So we can believe that we are invisible no more, 

Bodhi, my baby

'How do you know?' asked the angst-drenched, boy with the storm in his eyes and the petrichor-scented voice. 

And she with her purse full of painted bottles of regrets and custom-made masks, dropped her baggage into the abyss of yesterdays, her fingers meeting the curve of his face, intimately familiarly.

Her thirsty-mouth moved, 'I know, because there is peace in the crook of your neck, that sages traversed the earth to find, 

Because enveloped in your arms, I am a fledgling, emptied of fear, of doubt, of anger, of hurt, because when I see you I SEE you and I FIND me. 

Because, when you and I are US, you are not a storm and I am not a drought....'

Impasse

Creaking and groaning the ride goes round, 

Wobbling, shuddering, careening with doubt, 

I sit huddled at one end, you perch tensely at the other, 

We spin around, eyes sparring, held hostage and knowing no better,

Like shipwrecked smithereens sloppily washed to beach, 

We wait endlessly, dangling hopelessly in this stalemate,

Creaking and groaning, the ride goes around, 

Never shall we reach each other, till you, I and this ride run aground..

First Edition Lover

You are a rare, unread, unfathomed book of beauty paramount, hidden between earthen hard-binding,
I've found you now, in the dusty, mothballed, cobwebbed corner of the library of my life,
With you in my hands now, I am angsty and restless, fingers shake as I race to consume you wholly,

Then slowly, tracing lines like scintillating words carefully strung together to masterpiece, 

Each shining scar, a breathtaking twist of plot, every crease a masterful character,

I want to plunder into those eyes, the protagonist of this roller coaster ride,

I want paper cuts off your edges, want to dog ear the curves to revisit again and again, 

I want to arch in the pleasure of your erotic beckoning, spill myself on your paper, 

I want to lie with you in bed, inhaling the deep woody scent of you, tracing you lovingly,
I want to read between all your lines, leave charcoal scribbles on oft-handled corners,
I want to know all of you cover to cover, I want to know you differently each time I devour you, 

I want to never put you down, escape into you, make you my world, weep and laugh only with you,

I've picked you unbeknownst that you would become my pivotal guide to loving-dom,
You are the habit, you are the salve, you are the perspiration of dreams, you are the way and the means,
And each time I touch you, I will love you once more, even when you are yellowed and old,

I'll pass this love down to generations ahead, it will always be remembered.....
that in your words,
I lived

He said he loved everything about her,

Then he took a chisel and got to work...

A Pair of Pariahs

You are on me. the salt of your sweat, the nectar of your lips,
The shapes of your fingers, now blooming upon my hips,
The voice like embers warming up the cold-damp of my mind,
The dull echo of your flesh and your bones, draped over mine,
Like love letters hidden between old clothes, I unfold them once more,
I revisit your light though my dark, I find again my customized spark,
It isn't so much that I miss you, not so much that I need you,
not even the most unvarnished truth that I love you,
only that I am a storm, a blizzard, a hurricane on the horizon,
until I meet you again - and the fracas that unmade comes undone...

Sometimes

Sometimes, our love is gently leaning chest to chest, heartbeats nestled together, shallow breaths,
as my fingers trace out a new unit of human anatomy, a name for the spot where my head rests,
Sometimes, our love is sitting two feet apart, my legs crossed tight, yours wide open,
while our eyes make love, consuming each other hungrily, dry mouths bearing witness,
Sometimes, our love is raking landscapes, seeking a space to ensconce you between my thighs,
For a chance to plunder your mouth with mine, for a place to become your illicit bride,
Sometimes, our love is the thunderclouds in your chest, the storm in your throat,
when it's someone else taking me home, or drinking tea with me loveless-ly,
Sometimes, our love is waking up weeping, at the blinding beauty of a dream that is you,
not believing till we meet, that you exist, and if the air really vibrates between us,
Sometimes, our love is telling ourselves and each other that we belong together,
and then weeping inconsolably as we pretend to have lives with irreverent others
Sometimes, our love is the unperturbed silence of hours, constructing mazes of embraces,
other times, it's raucous dismantling of two lives' worth of secrets, vexations and lacerations
Sometimes, our love is the way I wish you had hurt me, so that I could be angry,
so that I could hate you just a little, so that your absence didn't mean that I forget how to breathe
Sometimes....

Double-helixed hearts

They ask me to break it up, to cut you off,

As if you were an errant thread, escaped from the weave of my sleeve,

They'll know when they see the broken ribs and the stitched up chest, 

What you are and always will be, to me....

Plan B

These moments of togetherness, 

We're on borrowed time,

Let's steal the sun love, 

hold on to this night forever....

Panoramic Rhapsody

That afternoon it started, as soon as the doors closed behind them,
Frantic they perspired, quite inspired, pushing fabric past the topography of two writhing bodies,
New in their togetherness, but intimately familiar, like fingers plucking at a harp only they play,
The sound of hunger, is as soft as that of satin tossed at a cold, tiled floor,
The taste of heaven, laced upon those supple lips, the bristly beard on the pink of a neck,
The raw sound of mounting ecstasy, spiraling shadows of a two-headed being,
The trance, the dance, the shivering, shuddering, the wildly pleasurable gyrating,
The open mouths, the urgent breathing, the flushed skin, fingernails tearing,
By night it began, as soon as the sun drowned in its own fire,
She lay by his side, un-beautifully reposing, frazzled hair, sweat-matted to her forehead,
Her face nestled against his chest, lips parted, supine breaths leaving the sloping breast,
Even as she jittery-ly flung out her limbs in her dreams, possessed she seems,
he held her close, as if she was his zoetic heart cradled in his arms,
And she said she was not the crying type, had never been.
Yeah, tell that to the blades of his shoulder where she grappled,
As terrified sobs rippled through her ribs, dreading their parting,
For fear of all the places inside that would break, if this ever ceased to be,
As the morning rubbed its eyes, stretched out and smiled, they both were changed,
Emblazoned minds, braided melancholy, engorged hearts, never to be separately whole again.

Fare thee well

These empty spaces, these lonely hours, these thirsty places in the darkened corners of my heart,
They make me want to leave I tell you, they make me want to shut these doors, damage control,
This place settles into me like the cigarette smoke, that so prettily did unfurl from the curve of your lips, now on me stale and nauseating,

I hate that I feel like this without you, like the bulging purple of veins of a neck that's being throttled,
I hate that I live to catch the fragments, like a junkie trying to purloin from a malevolent drug lord,
I hate that I feel like curling up and dying, because my senses are fading, eyes closing, heart slowing,

My heart feels wrinkled, like fingers that have soaked in water far too long, from leaking pain in a the colour of rain,
My fingers are trembling, like lips that have been crying for days and days, for they cannot reach out and touch you,
My lips are parched, like the cracked soles of my dust laden feet, for the lack of your desire-drenched mouth on mine,
My feet are swaying, like hair strands caught in the frigid winter wind, for they cannot carry my body over to yours,

And although I wonder if this love will be my undoing, I fear it will, I know it could, I trust it shall,
I cannot get off this train, I cannot break this ligature, I cannot shut this door... I will always lead you in,
look wide-eyed when your body meets my embrace, as your mouth whispers entreaties to mine,
as your electric soul ripples through my core, as your heart blankets the shuddering closets of mine,
So, here I am, here I will be, here shall I lie, debilitated, until once more you find me.

Gypsy Soul Sister

Wild child, life free..
Rise may you each day, meeting roads not paved but cobbled with tiles of adventure,
Find may you one who loves each curl on your head and every kink inside your mind,
Wide-eyed, may you live in wonder, hands in the air, tracing the lace of the clouds in the sky,
Smile may you, white teeth flashing, at the zaniness of every blip along the way,
Open may your heart be, ever the welcoming doors, to the love that is all around you,
Sashay may you, never hurried, especially when losing you way is means to finding yourself,
Tread may you lightly, wisps of footprints in your wake, never bleeding for the need to belong,
Dream may you with abandon, fearlessly and hopefully, weave them gently into a gilded future,
Ache may you for that which flavors your ardent mind, your fervid soul, yet never with futile despair,
Rage may you against the battle-wounds of love that has turned to war, never lay down your arms,
Meander may you through every new journey. breath baited and wings unfolding for fight,
Soar may you through open skies of boundless possibilities and countless exploits, unbridled by strife,
Wild child, live free.....
.... love hard, dream big, dance, sway to your own intoxicating drumbeat.....

Te amo mi amor

It's easy to say 'I love you', isn't it?
It's easy to let the moment play in your hair, like the wind, cool and comforting,
It's easy to gush and swell with magnanimity, in a single luxurious expulsion of breath,
It's easy to swish those words in your mouth, like a full-bodied wine, deep-red and heady,
........
How about what it's like to watch your face so closely, your heartbeat flutters inside of my wrist,
How about the pink tidal wave inside me, effervescent champagne-flush rising, at the briefest touch,
How about what it's like to hold on to the seconds with you as they slip like the moon into the morning,
How about the gutting hurt I can hear in the first syllable of your heavy footstep, out the door,
How about the time warp we slip into slipping into each other, the world dissolving like salt in water,
How about fingers and palms, bones and muscles, curves and edges match groove to groove, lock to key,
How about that voice of yours that trickles tenderly through my head, rain through drought-dried land,
How about the plundering torpedo through my heart, my entire viable universe in another's careless arms,
.........
How about that love? I hope you know, I know you know, 'I love you' just doesn't begin to cover it.....

Legends of Long Gone

I wonder what they would say about us, you and me, after our time, 

would they say we were friends? Would they deem us mere strangers?

would they assume us in between... two disconnected oars of a wretched boat?

Shall we leave a note love? Shall we leave the world this legacy of ours?

or....

Will the stars know how we traced our shared future into their glittering dust?

Will these barren streets testify our forbidden trysts, just beyond their corners?

Will this desolate bed resound to echo the rhythm of our frenzied dancing?

Will the dust motes carry word through sun beams, of the hurt in their width's distance?

Will the waters gush loquaciously, of feet, yours and mine, yours and mine, sinking into the sand?

Will the drawn curtains reminisce how my body was cocooned in yours, my tears on your cheek?

Will every second that kept us apart clash with every second that brought us together....

for the right to testify the fervor, the right to the aphorism of our oneness, the right to call us lovers?

Or...

will they think us friends, deem us strangers, or suspend us in between, oars thrown into the sea?

Trojan Heart

So here is the thing, This love is not a master plan, it is not disaster proof, nor has a panic room,
there are no fire escapes or convenient back doors,
This love is an absolute, or another word that means a definitive of definitives,
I didn't chart this course we set sail on, only to my compass you have always been the North Star,
I didn't look at the dog-eared, puckered map closely, only lines the years have etched on you playfully,
I didn't draw out the papers, bullet proofed, with the rules, the boundaries and the crafty loopholes,
I didn't mull over you and me, until I saw your brown wide-eyes in the depths of my first cup of tea,
I didn't consider the gravity of your existence, until the trees back home whispered your voice to me,
I didn't make too much of your touch, until the warm, summer-rain washed down the deepest-deep of me,
So no, this wasn't the plan, this wasn't the deftly calculated move,
all I know is this, there was an anarchy within me, passionately endorsed by every vital  atom,
And it overthrew the governance of any logic, giving countenance to the paroxysm-driven exultation that is YOU. 

Never say bye

It takes me back you know, to a faraway kitchen, in the village of fireflies and paddy fields,
Where the drunken old bard of a river, gurgles and tumbles, maniacal, beside the sober rubber trees, 

On an archaic wood fire, a spice-laden broth simmers, producing billows of charcoal smoke,

Flushed with the tongue-tingling essence of curry, ginger, dry roasted coconut,

Of garlic, cloves and cinnamon sticks, of shallots and of coriander-cumin mists, 

So dressed up, the smoke rises, cloaking her charred-wooden perspiration with flourish, 

Perched in the stalemate of the tiled roof, she spots the yellowed square of dusk-en glow,
Lighting up the browned abyss of the ceiling, the window glitteres, beckoning,
Unsuprisingly, the smoke meets only glass, withered hopes of passage into light, dissolve in silken threads,
Wisps of its former self, floating, thwarted and broken, into the deep beyond the cobwebbed door,
In that memory, I see the beauty of heartbreaking longing, of silent depair, of doggone tiredness,
the dried flower, the shadow of a vibrant life, tucked between crumbling pages,
the creaky boat, with the aching oars, that have no hope against the storm,
the wings of the butterfly, devastatingly wiped out by the rescuing fingers' touch,
the lonesome White owl, unheedingly hooting at the cloaked, elusive moon,
the old brass key, in a heavily lined hand, bereft hopes of meeting its only lock,
the hardy tear, that fought will and worth, to escape the melancholy of the eye,
The narcissistic candle, burning itself to a smouldering puddle, all for the flamboyant flame,
There is something to be said for the hopeless love, for love-drunk hope, for the marriage of both,
There's something to be said for the tenderils of scent, in the withered leather of a watch strap,
Of the yellowed pages of a children's book, slouching at their aged spine,
Of the washed out, bleached-blue, well-worn, threadbare of a slept-in shirt,

A hopeful nostril longingly wanders the surface of all that i have left of you,
Unwrapping, once more, the faint and fleeting frangance, of charred-wood smoke.

Inamorato

Sex? Yes I'm familiar with the concept,

But I've barely walked in the room and your fingers part, as though to make way for the skin they want to touch,

But oh, when we kissed we unraveled, unbecoming and becoming, like two rivers in the mouth of the ocean, 

But when we are just bodies stitched together with the thread of need, your eyes still sought mine, 

But we find each other, in crowds and in our private spaces, like roots seek beads of water hidden in stone,

But my mouth knows the lines of your body, all of them, lips mold to your shapes, the hard and the soft of you, 

But your tongue is laced with the heroin of me, like a true addict, taking hit after perilous hit, twirling in the Russian roulette,

But when we move together, we are lighting and thunder; electricity deliciously rippling through water,
But when you are in the depths of me, I surrender, the saffron-red evening sun diving into the open-armed horizon,
But in the music of our urgent whispers of our bodies, I've forgotten the name I've been known by, the number on my street stile,
But I know the auroral scar on the chest of your heart, the callouses on the soles of your feet and the bottom of your soul...through fear, toil and sleep,
But I, you, you and I, we are a symphony, we are melodies of smiles and simpers, whispers and moans, of thoughts and dreams, of hurts and bleeds, of life and life,
But  even when you have left, your love warms the sheets, even as my heart and hopes leave pinned to your shirtsleeves,
But in the ebbing of our pulse, we smile into the curves of each other, we are triumphant, we are ecstatic, we are bathed in sweet sweat and the noiseless sounds of each other's names,
So, no, this isn't sex, not as in just-sex sex, not as in making-love sex, not as in pick-me-up sex....
'US' is a collective noun....

A Song to the Stone

After all, who looks at the primitive rock closely? Who loves him deeply?

when flowers burst forth, dancing, swirling, a palette of provocative perfumes,

when the sprightly spring of nectar-sweet water, gurgles, gushes and merrily sways.

when the vixen sky, distracts with her changing hues, russet-gold to lilac-blue,

when the fruits are bountiful, luscious, juicy,succulent and inviting, is it fair to anyone else?

where the bountiful boughs sigh and moan, as the wind makes love to its emerald leaves,

where the songbird croons with notes of longing to the storm clouds voluptuous with rain, 

where the earth is supple, fertile and virtuous, and bursting forth with buds of life,

After all who looks at the rock, who for his part kept his stony silence,

He submits himself to the rain as she washes over him, eroding bits of him to her lover the earth,

He heroically stands the wind and the storm, to shelter the oblivious delicate of the rose bud's lips, 

He martyrs himself at the altar of the root, breaks down to feed the salt that sugars the fruit, 

But I love him, this rock, this aggregation of time and earth and all encompassing knowing,

I see in him,his nature to take the blistering cold or the callousing heat, 

I see in him all the muted colours he wears, testimony to the centuries cocooned within,

I see in him, how in saying nothing he has absorbed all the magic of the universe,

one thing though, how do you move a rock with just a heart?

The embezzlement of love

I'm a thief, for I steal, without remorse and out of greedy need,

I steal the darkened contours of gazes from your eyes,

I steal the upside down smiles from the corners of Your mystic mouth,

I steal irridiscent thoughts from the cobbled lanes of Your convoluted mind 

I rob the milling crowds of your prepossessing parlance,
I rob the fragrant wind of the chance graze against Your skin,
I rob the stars of your eloquent dreams of their shimmering beauty,
I pillage the rich scent of Your intoxicating sweat, off Your delicious neck,
I pillage the teardrop from Your eye, that elopes with the lines of my mouth,
I pillage the warm breath that You've left In the hollowed darkness of me,
I'm greedy, needy, hungry maybe, also wallowing, sailing, soaring easy,
You, who have no fear of my frightful, all consuming passion,
You who are of the sands of lands and beds of seas,
You who have the impeccable scars and tousled miseries,
I have nothing to give You, nothing to earn You, nothing at all in my heart to house You
I am a thief, and I steal, I rob and I pillage, Your heart, Your body and Your wonderful mind
Knowing, despairing and dreading all the while, You are not mine, never mine. 

Methods of self annihilaion

Of all my vices, the one I nurture, the one I hold to my breast,
the one I cling to in those lustrous hours of the night is this,
This inexorable gravitation to pain, to finger paintings on dusty windows that are tried by rain,
to open wounds, and obdurately calloused souls, to washed out dreams of wide-winged flight,
I wait at the shallow mouth of the throbbing ocean, I pick up what's washed ashore,
Indulge in the lip-biting, blood-sucking, pleasurable pain,
Of broken shards of withered bits, of malnourished smiles,
I lay them out in my lap, like once-proud flowers, ousted from branches,
I weave them together, as they rustle against my fingers, dried and lifeless,
They cut me, they split my skin, I'm sore, so sore
And when I'm done, I see the garland yet undone,
Dead petals in the wisps of my hair, between my teeth, staining my fingers,
So I stand again at the ocean's converging lips, collecting fragmented hopes,
Finding yet again seaweed and brittle bones.... Inexorably hopeful still

Pillow Talk

3 A.M. is a person...
for most part she is bone-crushingly tired,
of how the weary light keeps his distance,
her somnolent face is framed prettily,
by wisps of scintillant, buttermilk-y clouds,
Sometimes she is an oxymoron of tranquil loneliness,
dressed in moonless nights and vapid thoughts,
Yet, there are those rare nights she feels lascivious,
she is attired in mangled bed clothes,
and rich perfume of pleasure-driven sweat,
the music of the post-coital heart beats,
is interspersed with flushed-faced confessions,
He says he loves his noodles soupy,
She says she has lain in puddles of her own blood...
and silence...
See, that's the thing about 3 A.M,
she doesn't ever get to be happy.

Upchuck

So you tell me that my love is like the first rain in years,
to wash upon the thirsty sands of the desert,
It reminds me of the time I went without food for three days,
and then gorged my self on a rich, meaty meal on the fourth,
Instead of relishing the nutrition, within minutes i was doubled over, sick
So here I am, waiting to be thrown up.. from the innards of your desert. 

Meaningless songs of meaningful love

It is like breaking the surface of water, 

Coming up for AIR,

That your heart is still tender with love, 

it's so very rare,

I rave and i rant and i prattle on,

to hearten you with words of love,

But sometimes you think that its not me,

That it's just a well-rehearsed soliloquy.

Perception.... 

The night sky is beautiful, 
The seemingly zephyrous clouds seemingly caress the luminous moon, 
Against a velveteen, star-spangled sky, they seem to be suspended in a tender embrace 
But, the moon knows he has craters that time cannot heal, 
And, the cloud knows shes full of effete rain that shall not fall, 
And, they both know that there is a great distance between them, 
That neither can or shall traverse,
between them, they know that this is the way of the world...

The lil BIG love!

Ever since you first looked at me, Opened ur lovely big eyes, Your face pink and powdery, I knew it was the biggest love I'd have. When I held you in my arms against my chest, A small bundle soft and warm you were, You tried to focus on my face and then stared, I knew I'd never forget that love. When you reached out for me in ur sleep, And not finding you tearfully wake, The second I touch you, you are at peace I know that I'll never mean so much You learn to stand, holding on to things, You watch me working, across the room, And suddenly your wobbling smiling at me, I'm your magnet and I'll never feel so big. You are making a mess, throwing a fit, I scream n yell I'm almost losing it I watch ur tears n fill with shame, Uve forgiven me and hugged me so tight. I drive you to school, u hold me hand, The warmth ur little fingers lacing mine, When I leave you look back at me, smile, My eyes brim with tears n I say good bye. I love you my little one, love you so much, I love you little heart, you face and your smile, I love how you lisp and how u wrinkle ur nose, But most of all I love ur lil love so!!!!!

Lusting for you!

I watch you walk across the street, Ur long, strong legs bring you to me, Not too fast, in fact much too slow, And I can't wait for you to know, You stop but just not close enough, Ur eyes meet mine and hold me close, We hold still in the evening breeze, N now I'm almost down on my knees, We talk, we laugh, we eat,we drink, Make it seem like everyday things, U touch my waist,I hold your arm, The tingles from you make me warm, We part and I cannot say goodbye, Without looking you in the eye, Another touch to last me the night, A wistful look and look away, We meet again and we know we must, Come close together, drawn by lust, I try to inhale every scent of you, Before I do what really want to, I draw you close into my longing arms, Touch your face, your neck,your hair, You lower ur warm lips and onto mine, I'm drawn into you n not of my own, Your lips,my lips oh where's the line, Were bound together in this moment, Ur hips, my hips move in a rythem divine, May this night last forever and ever...

Starved!!

I remember you, the one that started it all, The one with the dark broody eyes, The one that mastered the stall, The lips that moved to some music, Mystically woven, unheard of before. I remember well, the attraction the spell, The gentle tug at my heart strings, The loathing in me n still I fell, Ur voice becomes the voice in my head, Wispering, linegring and ever so haunting. I remember the touch, the careless teasing, The excrutiating heat, the bronzed skin, The warmth of ur heart, only fleeting, Worries drowned out as soon as they bubble, Drowned out by the commotion in my chest. I remember, too clearly to sit still, The long sultry nights, the hot sweltering days, The twisting of limbs, the tousled bed things, It's something hypnotic,these thoughts in my head, N that's wht tells me I'm starved to death. Hah!

Stare at the mirror, set it afire,
the dark bile rises,
and you let someone else scream
tears flow down your insides,
your torn and burnt and continue to live

how i sometimes hate being me!!

wake up in the land of dreams,
in a bed of three as empty as me,
my modern condo 'hues' of white,
i live alone isnt it a perfect life
walk out on the matallic streets,
in my metallic car no one bothers me,
look at the beggar girl at the corner,
and think to myself "life's too fast to greet tough luck
so will you forgive me sister of mine?"

at work its satisfaction guranteed,
in my cubicle enveloped in steel,
clicking away at my lonely console
dont you think we're matched by whole?
think of the old man at the department store,
he calls me 'kid' so i give him a call,
order some groceries to be delivered home
and think to myself "lifes too fast to meet tough luck
so will you forgive me father of mine?

and then i dream of judgement day,
dont know why but anyway,
the lord asked me one thing alone,
"i gave youlife, i gave you love'
i gave you a world you could grow from,
you froze it, burnt it, cut it down,
biult your own world of stell n stone,
you loved no one, had no peace,
so i ask just one question answer please,
"do you forgive yourself daughter of mine?"

missin you

memories are so beautiful, fragile and colourful...
they soothe the hurt of the rugged roads..
but most of the time id just rather have you here
strength always came easy.. once upon a time
fought the world took it in my stride...
but dont ask be to be srtong about you,
tis something i can do naught,
and every street knows your name
evrywhere i go visions of us together
the concrete jungle and the streets of steel
they hold our life togther, cruel they remind me..
and memories they're beautiful, fragile and colourful
they try to soothe the wounds of this gruel,
but most of the time, let me be honest
yes most of the time it would be a blessing to have you here

dedicated to friends n loves that used to be....

sittin here by the lone window on the bare wall,
looking at all thats happened n happening still,
it hurts to see the truth, just this harshly put,
how fickle the human heart,
how fickle the human hearts dealings,
how we laughed, loved, hurt n cried,
how the intimacy grew like deadly vines,
n how now, strangers to ourselves we flee.......

hey there big man,
hope alls well in heaven,
give me a moment will u,
thers something you need to do,
come breathe with me,
come be fickle as only i can be,
come see what its like,
let me show you,
what it feels lik to be human.

hey you saint, let me show,
you the joys of sin,
feel the pain of being in love,
the joy of wanting to die for someone,
waiting for someone in the rain,
come see the way it burns to be,
green with envy,
see what it feels like,
to hold a child of your own,
come and be silly,
dance around on the street,
come be responsible,
for noone but you,
come let go,
come be proud of nothing,
see the thrill of fear,
how it chills to wal,
k around the dark corner,
laugh like its your way to survive,
cry like you bet the world and lost,
come let me give you an insight,
let me show you the ways of the human.

how long has it been now,
we wait here in the silent night,
the air still like its waiting too,
like us for the absolution we need,
why dont we break away love,
we can if we choose,
this life is ours and we can make it,
take my hand il show you our haven.

you fear the dark alleys,
you fear the strong wind,
in those deep brown eyes of yours,
these i see and know,
but we can choose to break away love,
n i can save you from the devil,
well get through the dark,
take my hand and il show you our haven.

its been a weary ride for both of us,
our feet blistered and souls are battered,
dont stop now though,
not when salvation is a door away,
we are going to break away from it love,
the end is near, the beginning nearer,
im not going anywhere without you now,
take my hand and il show you our haven....

tell me who you are,
all that has made you,
you know me now,
evry thought and dream,
so tell me god, where are you?

are you there, there in the sun?
when as it rises ans i cant see,
past the blaze, eyes burnin with tears
in this gold fringe, are you there?

or is that you, in that child?
he dimples at me, eyes twinkle,
holding out his little round hand,
in this perfection,are you there?

could it be you in the spring?
you move in the breeze all around me,
blanketed in colours that now spread,
in this fragrence, are you there?

might it be you in the moonshine?
letting me see only what i should,
the silent beauty of the velvety night,
in this peace, are you there?

and now i see you, all at once,
in the mirror on the broken wall,
in eyes that i see on my face,
the love, the joy, the hurt, the fear,
and yes in this faith, i see you, i feel you...
i know you are there.....

sitting across from you, far away..

the room, the world of distance,

looking at you, look at me,

your eyes glowing dark,

shining under the night lights,

your jaw drawn, mouth shut tight,

and how i wish to tell you..

on my skin i can stll feel you

in every breath, i cam still smell you,

in my mind there is but one thought,

in my heart there is just this one wish,

if i could just close my eyes..

how i wish i could tell you...

morning will come, come soon,

and when the first ray warms the sand,

with its gentle golden caresses,

i will be gone, to where i belong,

carried away by the yellow mist,

and how i wish to tell you...

you stand up and walk to me,

my heart stops, quickens, slows,

you lean close, bury your face in my hair,

i live in that embrace, lost for life,

tis done, your fleeting apology,

my hearts tears apart inside of me,

and how i wish to tell you...

every moment of pain of joy,

of relentless agonizing hatred and ecstacy,

ive lived this life for too long,

cant bear to look back at you now,

ive played these games lost and won,

and how i wish to tell you.....

im done

wil i ever forgive me, for looking in your eyes telling lies?
will i ever forgive myself for leaving the next morning?
will i ever forgive , myself for never saying a word?
will i ever forgive myslf for not telling you i love you...

will i ever know the reason why,it hurt so much to kiss you?
will i ever know the reason why, it burns me just to touch you?
will i ever know the reason why i ran away that adrk nighy?
will i ever know the reason why,i never can go back there...

will it ever happen now, the healing of these deep wounds?
will it ever happen now, that i will understand our dark sins?
will it ever happen now, that you will look back at me?
will it ever happen now, all the things of you im wantin...????

into the ocean i walked,
the sun sets & the light fades,
im bathed in the red gold satin,
in me were u born god,
or was i born in you?
this love that surrounds u and me,
does it end and does it begin?
we live in each other, blessed for eternity...

got a tattoo done....its simply amazin will post a snap soon.... if ur intrseted in gettin one done...ths is the best place....
http://tattooschennai.com/tattooschennai/index.html

Of days and years, of dreams untold,
Of hearts that broke theirs and my own,
Of wars that were waged, vengeance sought,
Nothing gained from both,
Of bonds that formed and those that broke,
Of paths trodden and regret that followed,
Of hatred born and laid to rest,
Of tears shed and all those dried,
Of apologies and thanks some left unsaid,
Of forbidden fruit and those labour borne,
Of wonders these eyes behold,
Of numerous sunrises and sunsets,
Of falling over and rising from there,
Of laughter and light, sadness and fright,
Of songs known by heart forgotten with time,
Of gained knowledge sublime,
Of victories with losses and defeats with gain,
Of fear that gripped and caused much pain,
Of daring of spirit that did much the same,
Of illusions of a haven somewhere,
Caressed with tenderness everyday,
Of perforce that changed the best laid plans,
Of rhymes of the chaos in my heart,
Of these is the symphony being written still,
Then the next journey begins and when it will,
It will be given my heart and soul,
Until the journey ends…. story whole..

forbidden fruit

your skins bathed in the moons light
dark velvet it seems, personifyin my sins,
you hold your mouth open,
and my thoughts are trickling away,
fast as water through my fingers,
you smile and its a rush,
you lick your lips and mine bleed dry
why oh why have you got me so high,
i forget the world and who i am,
why oh why?

this isnt love, will never be,
but this thirst for you has got me beggin,
for one kiss just one touch,
its killin you and its killin me,
i see your fire it only kindles mine,
why oh why have you got me so high?
the only way down will ruin me heart n soul,
why oh why?

from where i stand just inches away,
i smell your scent, can do that from miles away,
i clasp my hands for fear that,
they might slip and give our sins away,
and what is hell, i should fear,
after this feeling of tearin away,
why oh why have you got me so high,
to breathe i need your breath in me,
why oh why?

our fingers touch, in the briefest of ways,
i feel the passion emanate,
the strangers look and fail to see,
all of whats consumin you and me,
and then theyre gone, the urgency in me,
when you come close and kiss me,
your lips, my lips, its all the same,
now we forget the world around,
why oh why am i so fuckin high,
on this mortal suicide??
why oh why?

the nights are dark, so very dark,
its givin me company,
its hidin all my tears from you,
its breeze is liftin me,
but if the light comes shinin through,
would you look at me, see my eyes,
they mist now, the life's ebbin out,
if i tell you that i hurt, would you lend a ear
if my heart was bleedin dry would you mend the tear?

im a loner been that way,
its not your fault i kno,
and when iv fought the world,
thers not much else to do,
but if my arms start to fail,
would you lend a hand?
and when my knees go weak tonight,
dont leave me in the sand

tonight im lost, tonight alone,
tonight im raw with pain,
tonight i need you here with me,
a shelter in the rain...

HIS little angel

With god there was his land,
in his land he had his angels,
of these angels there was child,
beautiful as a poets dream,
fair as gods pearly clouds,
pure as only a child can be,
delighted was heaven with her,
and gods favourite child became she,
she pittered and pattered and danced,
she ran all about her and merrily she pranced,
but one day came, she wandered, far, alone,
she decided to chance a look at earth down below,
but looking down did the little angel see,
nothing but hate, pain and misery,
of god she was and to god she went,
Father she asked..’why are the men in such pain?’
God looked upon his fairest child,
And said, ‘its what they themselves to bind’,
‘that cant be so’, said the blue eyed girl,
your touch I’m sure will make them whole again,
HE lifted the innocent to his knees,
said ‘I gave man happiness, love for keeps,
he forgot how to use them and created his own,
world of destruction and has greed’s seeds sown’
‘but someone must save them!’ the little girl cried,
God put her in bed and said ‘child how I TRIED!!’
The little girl slept not at all, and when at days call,
She was sent for by God, she was not to be found,
For the fair child of God,
came down upon His lands,
to try and change this fate of man’s,
the men, they saw her, the image of God,
they looked upon her with fear and with awe,
she smiled upon them. And reached out to them,
she touched them, cleared their minds of all doubt,
she fed the hungry, healed those in pain,
and spread god light about her,
then chased the dark away,
they worshipped her and praised her,
and they called her word God,
and for some time,
yes for that some time, there was atmost peace,
but in due course, the dark clouds returned,
the greed that consumed the world of men,
came back to work with vengeance,
the men started to argue,
to own her did they want,
the desire for power taking control,
they created a council, to decide upon,
whose the angel was to be so forth,
words got harsher and harsher with time,
and soon a war among them was declared,
the angel now horrified rose to speak,
and among the angry men, to make peace,
they looked now upon her, once god they saw in her,
but that day she became the forbidden fruit,
they took her prisoner and bound her to a tree,
she she begged them and pleaded to be set free,
the war was roaring around her,
blood splattering around,
homes set on fire, within and without,
in this did gloom find her,
alone and tear stained ,
it claimed her and ate her,
she dint utter a sound,
the crops she had planted, the wealth she had spread,
all she had done, to dust all that went,
she thought of the words of her father the lord,
the truth now before her, naked to behold,
and then the war was over, the cruel had won,
they came back to get her, to claim their prize,
hungry and wounded, they called out in a trice,
they asked her to reach out hand touch them,
to heal them and feed them,
but though the fingers reached out,
nothing came out from within,
for they felt not, like she did,
her life n soul ebbing,
they could not see her pain,
so lost we they in theirs,
they flew into a terrible rage,
and dragged her by her hair,
they clawed at her fair skin,
and tore at her gold robes,
in hopes they could somehow,
make riches of those,
then, when all was gone,
but the look in her eyes,
they bit at her lips and bled her dry,
and in her last moments,
her tears mixed her blood,
she cried for her Father in heaven above,
she cried for the mankind with no hope,
she cried for the heaven that all of them lost,
and as the last breath, left her tiny lungs,
the Father watching above her, let lose a flood,
days he cried..oh countless days,
and when the tears were over,
he asked, ‘what went wrong?’
he found the answer, soon as one can,
it was in his idle moments,
he created a monster called man..

welll......pink n hvain a blast....!!!! alok n annu!!!! wheeee

my father....
He sits by the window. Unseeing eyes fixed at the distant orange horizon, at a sun that sets, bidding its farewell to the land, majestically making his exit. Had his eyes been able to watch the beautiful sight, he might have felt a kinship of sorts to the sun. He does not see though. He doesn’t even know that it’s evening already. I look at him, sitting impassive in the enormous, plush, leather sofa. He looks so old and frail I think, lost amidst the chair’s vast cushions. His arms draped lifelessly over the arms of the giant throne. He looks like a child sitting in his father’s armchair. In his mind too he has become a child… incoherent thoughts and lovely unreal dreams… horrendous torturous nightmares, amidst which he cries for comfort. But he is not a child…. I am his. He has not realized how long I have been standing at the doorstep, watching him. I reluctantly give up my minds wanderings, to walk into his room, treading gently on the carpet floor, so as to not have his thoughts interrupted. He stirs, for all my caution, looking my way. How does he always know? They say, when your eyes give up at an early age, you’re other senses take over to bridge the gap. Considering how old he was when he lost the use of his eyes, I’d say that it was not the case with him. In his case, I think it is more the fact that when you love someone as much as he does me, you don’t need any bodily senses to feel the person. Yes, my father loves me. As soon as I think this I think of all the times the word ‘love’ is used by many an unworthy tongue, wagging sometimes in deceit, sometimes lost in confusion, fear or simply helplessness. And I reproach myself for not finding a better word, for my father’s sake. No, my father didn’t love me. When you give someone every thought of yours from dusk to dawn, when every breath labors for a smile to be preserved on someone’s lips, when you would gladly take the roof off every child in the world to shelter someone from a light drizzle, when you would like to admonish the sun for biting at the beloved’s skin….how can that just be love…four letters, a bitter injustice. My father has given me so much of himself I don’t think he could ever just be himself again…what with all his emotional faculties in my possession. His eyes stare blankly at me and for a minute, he looks right into my eyes. I try to make myself believe that he can see me. Then he throws his arm out towards me… (in my general direction so to speak). And once again I see him as a child throwing his hand out for his mother. I stretch forward and grasp the bony, long fingers, thrust my way. A trace of a smile dances on his dried lips. That’s the most his facial muscles can manage these days. He holds on to my hand and for all his frail appearance,I feel his strength streaming out of his palm, into my body. No papa, they couldn’t beat you down…and something else rushes into my body…pride. I sit down beside him. At his feet. I take his hand to my lips and kiss them gently for fear that I might wither them. He places his free hand, with much effort, on my head and then, he sighs. The sigh of a man who after long, treacherous journeys has found El Dorado. We sit that way father and daughter. Joint by the hands and by half a lifetime of memories together. I lay my head down on his knees…just like I did when I was a young girl and had every day his presence living in the home he had built now. Just like it is now, isn’t it papa? Now you live in a home I have built. Only roles have reversed haven’t they? ‘No’…… I answer the question myself. I can never give him what he gave me. He is my father…my parent…how can I even dream of being him? His fingers play with my hair. And lying there by his side his arms holding me, however frail the hold may be….I feet blessed. I close my eyes and allow my mind to travel…. That is when I awaken, to find the remnants of my dreams in my head, swirling about in a misty whirl. I lie in bed still, much awake, but lost in the thoughts that plague me. The thought that the arms that now hold me tight and rest my fears, will some day, be weak and limp, fill me with a sadness unlike any other. It is but inevitable but that is a fact that I run away from. Memories flood my mind. I lose myself in thoughts of the man I love most…………I hear laughter and see us playing ‘house’. My little sister, barely old enough to walk, sits at the porch watching us… enchanted. We laugh….papa has to really squeeze to fit in the play house. Gigantic as the house is for us, man as big as papa, would surely have to curl into a ball to fit, and it sure was fun to watch him try. Papa always seemed such a big man…he was always tall but had a small slender frame of a dancer or an ice skater, which he probably could have been, had he known the first thing about grace. But my father WAS big. He was big in the heart. No one ever heard him say a cruel word to any man, woman or child. When a scolding was well deserved and necessary, it would be administered with much regret. He was a big man, because of the way he loved any living thing that came his way…..and loved with such abandon, that you’d swear that his life had held no disappointments. That, was far from the truth…about as far, as the new galaxy they have just discovered (that I never remember the name of). That is what made my father big. He had been cheated, but he would not give up on trusting, he had been hurt, but would not give up on caring, he had been disappointed, but would not give up on hoping, he had been miserable, but would not give up on happiness, he had lived a thousand deaths, and still would not give up his zest for life. He was full of vitality and some well chosen wisecracks, in his sickest of days. At times I would think, that perhaps it was a daughter’s adoration for her father that made me feel this way. Now much later, illusions have lost their charm, and dreams have either been realised or withered to nothings….even now I see him the same. The most beautiful man, I have had the honor of knowing. That I am the offspring of such a man is only a gift that I have been granted, perhaps for some greatly selfless deed performed in a previous lifetime (for, I certainly have not done any in this one).I think of bedtime as a child. My tired father, would lie beside me, waiting for slumber to claim my thoughts and attention (and that would take very long indeed). Just to know he is near, I’d hold on to a lock of his hair and twist it round and round my fingers and close my eyes. I’d ask silly questions and he would answer, no matter how exhausted he was. His voice would fill my ears those quiet nights. I’ve often associated that voice with god…perhaps for the comfort I found in it. One night I asked him, ‘if I want something will I have it?’. He said ‘if u ask for the moon, I will look up at it and know that it is impossible to get it….but I still would go there and give it my best shot’. I smiled and fell off to sleep, in less than a minute. It was not a dialogue meant to be presented dramatically, with a charming flourish. It was a commitment. Till date, there is not a doubt in my mind, that had I, in reality made a wish of that magnitude, he would have turned the world upside down to grant it. Every whim and fancy was entertained, when it was mine. Yes, indeed I was a spoilt favorite.I was faultless and perfect, dare anyone suggest otherwise. He saw no evil in me and for him, I wanted to be perfect (that I could never be is quite a different thing). In retrospect, I doubt if he ever really knew me. He did not care to discover either, he loved me with all he had and there was nothing more to it, than that. Perhaps the only suffering his love caused was born of the fact, that he would not stand my love being bestowed upon anyone else, but him. There were many, who bore the brunt as with my grandma, who in trying to spend the last days of her life with her first grandchild, got told off for not unedrstanding that a child’s place is with it’s parents. In due course of time, as my acquaintances grew in number, so did his impatience with them. To be honest, I loved every minute of it.In later teenage years, he like every other parent, had to deal with the inevitable accessories of adolescence. I’d say, he did a marvelous job at it. There were rifts and disagreements. I’d be out late and he would call and holler on the telephone. Then, I would be home and a second after my face appeared at the door, all anger would be forgotten and joy would light up his face and heart. His precious baggage was home, and all was well with the world. I never did understand how he managed to be like this… I never will figure it out….as I see it, I don’t have to. I just need to cherish him each moment that he is by my side. I will love him forever…and my children will hear stories of him…ever so slightly exaggerated. Perhaps they will tell their children about their great-grandfather….perhaps. But after that….somewhere along the road, the memories will be washed away by the waves of time. And then the greatness of this one man, will truly be lost… tragic as it may be, it is how life is and shall always be. I won’t be alive then, I would not wish to be. As long as I live, I shall carry this man in my heart, for he got there before anyone else. I will watch him and cherish the peace, that the looking bestows upon me. Inevitably, one day he will leave me and move to the heavenly abode (I have no doubt that he will go there)…. I will not hold him back, for then he shall truly be free and as long as I live, I will celebrate his existence through every breath I take, until I too, like all else, will return to dust…

Sometimes it happens…. My head feels full of thoughts…like mists swirling restlessly trying to find a contour..a shape, a form of some kind. These thoughts well they just are NOT thoughts of the day’s activities, or of the people that I know, or of things I enjoy…they are thoughts of ‘why’s?’ and ‘how’s’… sometimes it feels like this whole place is strange…the world around me, the people that walk to and fro..Seemingly without purpose. Sometimes I wake up in the morning to visit the bathroom and wash my face.
When I look into the mirror, I cant seem to identify whom I’m looking at. The eyes I recognize, staring back at me...wide and confused…sometimes smiling, almost impishly as though sensing the confusion of the mind…it seems sometimes that those eyes are the only thing true of me…me body becoming the well designed prison for those brown eyes beholding the spirit….my emotions flashing in them like a turquoise shell reflecting sometimes the blue of the sky, the murky darkness of the ocean depths some other times and then seeming to be a field green that stands between the two… and then I realize that when my own reflection seems a mere stranger…how am I to understand the WORLD?? And then some tell me ‘I love you and understand you perfectly.
I know you like I do the back of my hand’…..do you know the back of your hand?? In reality..?? do you know how many lines run across… do you know how many creases distort the back of your hand… you don’t know me either….i don’t know me how would you… It is indeed too much to expect of myself let alone of any other mere human…then if I don’t understand and you don’t then who does?? What makes me think the way I do…feel the way I do… love and hate and forgive and fondle…..what makes me make the decisions that I make…what is this thing I call ‘will’… I need answers because the explanations that science gives me are not enough and I cannot conjure up explanations to satisfy myself… sure then you’d say ‘you want to know what is the ultimate explanation…then here you go…heard of GOD kiddo???’ well here’s the thing how does god work??? Does he rule over every emotion of mine? Every rush I have…every time a song I like makes me breathless…and my feet start moving to their will….every time I get mad at something the way my blood boils….the way I shake with the wrath that plagues every cell in my body…I mean there is something that is bigger than science there…..what is that something??? What makes all these feelings so strong they break me shake me and force me to sit up and take notice??? If this is all science how would you describe the feeling of being held close by someone whom you love beyond all else…what makes you jealous when the object of your affections is busy elsewhere?? I cant feel no science in all that….
In every action of mine there is an absence of logic. In each one of us…let me take the example of math to explain what I’m tryin to say.. for a logical problem and Boolean algebra…there is but one logical answer just one…one that is perfect in all aspects… in us humans too… if there were to be perfection in the true meaning of the word.. there would be just one mould to make us…we’d be clones of each other rather than individuals… that’s the point, that it is but our imperfections that make us unique….the crook of the nose being too high too low, the eyes being set far apart or perhaps too close together… its separates us from each other… If I’m this, in this moment that’s perfectly the way its supposed to be and thus in this imperfection I am the most perfect being that has ever been…. And so when someone tells me that I’m good, bad, beautiful, ugly, cruel or kind… it is not any of those for in truth I am just me… no judgments to be passed… the rest is just the perception….
And thus it comes to the fact that there is no good or bad…. Because to each his own… and my good is ur bad n vice versa… so its just what our minds create that make our minds… we paint our own pictures for ourselves and thus our own worlds and in this world we create our own chaos…. we make our own complexities and then challenge ourselves for a solution and with each successive victory our strengths increase and we grow… this in agreement with the most basic laws of evolution…. With each hurdle we pass, we grow stronger….whatever this journey may be….whatever its purpose. we are here and we shall be till we figure out what to do with this gift..or curse….its perspective isn’t it??