Strays

Strays

Thu, 17 November 2005 21:41

This is the winter of my discontent. The time which comes creeping in with stealth in every man's life, making him reconsider the direction his chosen path is leading him.It is not about success or failure, or poverty or richness ,or happiness or misery.Rather it is about the image that one constructs so lovingly carefully in ones own private mirror.Then the distant shadow of the grim reaper though still far away in the far distance reminds one of the journey half done and unrequited and then a sigh escapes one's lips,...

Will I make it?

Will I etch the etchable on the smoked glass of life?

Or will I blow away like countless grains of sand unsung and forgotten?

My kind'a town

There is a town of
great black snakes
sooty high rises
greasy cakes

in the center
is a dome
full of cesars
like in rome

far and yonder
the artery flies
suits fancy cars
full of lies

in the east
lies the river
black polluted
raped sliver

fat cats slobber
in the south
frothing foaming
rich mouths

starving does the
beggar lie
outstretched hand
a wink sly

screaming sirens
pilot cars
parasites feeding
age no bar

cant we ever
find a man
decent healthy
without a plan

purring cats
eating bait
sated bated
lowly rate

afar a pagoda
a gleaming mosque
holy temples
shining dusk

men at prayer
pass you by
full of hate
full of rye

wheres the love
lovers frown
wheres the beauty
at sundown

bilious pious
on the throne
thats the city
we all own

Walk Through My ID

Pebbles dancing,glistening sticky wet.
I walk through the cobwebs of confusion,
where am I,a question that always defeats me
And then I stand hands outstretched on the the misty mountain
exultant forces ripping out of my inner soul

I see the dark endless void
but also the shimmering light that pierces my ocean
Green leaves freshly washed sparkling bright
dark earth in mounds of dead souls
roads that lead on and on and on

yet they leave me full of hope
as i churn the new hopes and fears in my mind
as i think of what foes that i may face
as i push the devils down my throat
there is a wild dervish motion

Am i living or am dead
or it is just the pangs of
getting ready to be born

I Remember-A summer Dream

Slow trains
gentle moods as you slip off again
reverie for me that lasts summers
slow tumbling harsh drummers

hot gusts envelop you like a warm sleeve
then the rains you go drip drip drip
tracks of time always keep you going
dribbling dozing

slowly you feel the gentle breeze
lift moisture from your neck
the wind is hot and so is in motion
the rusty fan over your head

quick visions flit across
the great landscapes of your mind
great oceans roar in black and white
while demons dance in rhyme

is it only rock and roll
or is it just the blues
the whirling motion wakes you up
and you remember

God

unfeeling he sits
stonyfaced uncaring
does he exist
or does he not

cold rigid death
climbing vines
devouring souls
ululating high

does he love you or me
or is it just a tool
to enslave
our feeble minds

long tailed birds
flowing wind
opalescent dew drops
on fresh grass

beautiful maidens
rosy lips
large fluttering eye
sseducing hips

pink snow on peaks
untouched by hand
purple lights
in no man's land

fresh breezes
jasmine highs
meadows rolling
onto the sea

golden sunsets
misty dusks
beating hearts
racing lust

shadows of the
lurking dark
casting light
in the human soul

is this the end
or just an illusion
God made
or just confusion?

Interval

A strange beginning
a tame end
sounds of mindless laughter
endless eddys
cold mornings full of hope
warm days and the dread of passing
stabs of unrequited love
dashed hopes unfulfilled ambitions
what then is life
one asked the Muse
it is a dream he replied
a vague dream of immortality

Early mornin
river deep
mist kissed waters
eyes stinged
couldnt see a thing
took a toke
the whirling mind cleared in the smoke
the sun burst thru
darkness reigned
blue sky indigo blue sky indigo...................

Escape

Home , home my friend
when I sleep cold and tired
dreaming of fallow fields
unspent fires
there comes the star
blue and warm
enters the bedroom of my mind
playing games

Crazy

There once in the land of thongs lived a thing.
It thought thought and thought and then tried to be a thong.
But the more it tried more it became a thing.
So it broke down and cried.
Seeing the only thing among the thongs distraught with sorrow the Muse descended from the Pale Star.
The Thongs on seeing the Muse in their midst organised a do.
But they forgot to invite the Thing so right at party time they found that there was no sign of the Muse.
So the Head of the Thongs got mighty worked up and deputed a posse of subordinate Thongs to find the Muse and fetch him for the do.
The posse caught up with the Muse by the side of the pearly stream watching the waves flowing up to the shining stars , every atom shining like the iridiscent glow of azure sunsets.But there was no sign of the Thing, it had ascended long ago.