A Child in June

It was a whisper in a vast field
The memory I had hidden away
It came back with an odd vengeance
And I recognise little of it now

The rains smell different today
As though a burden lifted from a weary earth
The air seems cleaner
It makes me light

'Tis just a rational exuberance
Like falling from the skies
There is no magic there
Only a potent promise ahead

The World Ahead

All I can do
Is write a few words
As I see the white moon
Above my head
So far away
Looking down on me

When I think of the blue
In the sky beyond
And I think of the distances
Beyond me and farther
I smile a little
At what there is

It is here for now
This life that I can give
An honest word
With an honest look
This life that will leave
When time decided to stop

And all I can do
Is look back
At what I missed
And what I chose
In this life of mine
I chose to make complete

I forget today
All my deep sorrows
And all my fears
As I stare away
At all that I can't see

I cherish today
For all that it gave me
Which will soon be taken
But it is mine for now

All I can do
Is hope for a breath
And a peaceful thought
When it is given to me
And is given by me

Blade

A shade on her skin was drawn over her well worn face
Her eyes glistened in the sun which was above me

He spit a spit while blathering across the table
While she sat humbled by his intelligence

Her soft skin made him long for a touch
His bristles rubbed against her supple exterior

Come hither into my realm
Where everything is by itself
Where lives are lived
And I will teach you the way
The way of the world that has long been forgotten
Where the grass is still green
And where people still do nothing
And yet their hearts beat deafeningly

It is my paradise
And it is in my head
I know that the exterior will give away
And I know that youth will again be longed for
But this earth breathes a new life each moment
It is my paradise
And I am willing to share it

Yes to Dance

'Tis sometimes that a chord interrupts the beat of my heart, and somehow manages to soothe my nerves.
Silly little moments that make me believe in a loved life and an honest existence.
Just to be around a simple person, and listen to a simple song.
To eat a fresh meal in the confines of a home; away from the nuisance of the chores of the day and near the one who makes me forget.
'Tis in hope of this that I live my life, in pursuit of a carefree night, in pursuit of a lazy morning, in hope of love.

Pure Pursuit

We will never live those days again;
The thought resounds in my stomach.
As I saw his eyebrow stun the audience before him
I knew that this ought to be him;
He belonged there.
There, he was unlike himself.
Wasted time is but a silly oxymoron,
For we change every second.
Why is it that people drift through time?
And why will we never make people proud?
Living for others seems cruel
For others will never be satiated;
It is me I care for
Having wasted too much time in the past
I seize each moment now;
At least that be the endeavour.
I feel humble before a mountain
For a mountain cares not
About the sorry plight of living beings;
But we are here to exist.
Die not at the mercy of time
Rather, live by it.

Pictures in Sand

Brown haired boy drawing in the sand,
The wind waving his hair and he continues
Painting pictures of beliefs of happiness...
Waves lash around and he continues
A soft murmur from the tress ahead
But he cared not to look up
He has the stick and he continues
Looking down at his creations
And how happy he feels
Turning his face to his right,
He saw the boulder that had stood there for long
As long as he could remember
He longed to look beyond it
But he was too short
And he thought he was too weak
So he went up to the shore line,
And then up the gentle slope of sand
Only to witness his height altered.
Climbing to the top of a coconut tree
Afraid of falling
And afraid of crying with pain
He looked now, beyond the boulder.
All he could see was water
He was disappointed
But then he turned to crawl back down

He had been longing for something that he had possessed for too long
Ignoring the murmurs from the trees
Ignoring all that could change his life
All that he cared not for...
He had given himself up to the boulder
For too long,
He cried now for he saw what he should have seen earlier
Tiny people
The same size as him and
The same make as him
He thought that he would crawl down and run to them
But when he came down, he thought
He thought that he should, once again,
Go and see the pictures
He saw the pictures
The pictures were from inside him
He destroyed them...
Not really...
Those pictures still remain,
But they no longer haunt him
He unburdened himself
And he walked to the other side

He is sad now.
He is sad for he was happy alone.
The grass is always greener on the other side.
He thinks now, of the time when he can
Once again...
Go back to his sand,
And hold his brush
And draw again...
Away from people
Away from opinions
And away from attachment
His boulder was his support
But he felt too weak now.
He was too weak.



Some weeks ago
I saw the boy again
He held the hand of a tall woman
She guided him to security
Away from the lecherous little people
To fire and to warmth
To seclusion and to contentment
Away from the boulder
To a new land
And a new thought
And a new form
She left him there
To find his own way
And grow up by himself.

I met the boy today
He was crying
I reached out to touch his face
And he reached out to touch mine.

Ashes

Here I stand as I see my dreams and I light up the dark
Rainbows I hold and my eyes stay black
People walk hand in hand and they curve away
Aeroplanes and elephants with skirts drawn up tight
Beautiful white and sky high water;
Splashing about and naked mermaids
Buff bodies and puffed up fish
This is all I see and this where I want to be
Jokers laugh and mourners cry
People come and go on by
I keep telling myself that nothing is constant and nothing will be held
The cold air hurts me and my hollow heart aches
For things go on by and time flies past
Lovers lie on each other and talk while laughing
Lovers walk together, silent and quarreling...
Spiked hair and straightened hair

This is how I pass my time as I stare out of my window
I see animals walking together going into the sunset
I see them scared and alive

Take support my love for you are weak
Everything seems hazy and there is nobody near you
I know that pretty clearly for I have spoke to you
I believe I know you well but it confuses me still
It confuses me when you wear that white dress and that crooked smile
But I will say to myself that I know you.
That's that.
Naked trees await on a barren land.
Ash and a pot - and that is all that is left of me.

My Head

It gets cold at night when I see a silent moon in the dark sky. I sit on the sofa and stare at the screen of my laptop.

I believe that there are angels that fly and horses that moan.
I believe that there are people who lie and times that are blown.
The grass is becoming brown as I speak and the zombies I see killing a frown.
The chimneys across rising and red and a dog feeling cold, just looking for some bread.
There are inequalities I believe and that is the way this reality shall function. Everything here is clockwork, everything - including emotion.
Structures are wrought as a mark of existence.
Battles are fought as a testament to human perseverance.
Perseverance it shall be called for humans are cyclical.
It is a sad truth but it as said for all is a typical.
A rhyme is set, for its function is to harmonize.
But nothing is as beautiful as a barren sheet of ice about to pulverized.
I retire tonight as I see the dark moon.
I see that a witch approaches the round globe too soon.
I see fire and heat as I sit in my cold bed.
I see smiles and love as I wait for her to stand in my stead.

The man on the grass

As he lay on the grass, staring at the white sky above, he thought to himself.
He thought, or rather, he spoke of all the things gone by.
He spoke because he thought that thoughts never stick around for long.
And when his thoughts can hear the words as thought spoken by another entity, they may register in a better way.
He thought of the laws before him and how he had no intention of following tread paths.
He thought of the wilderness beyond, and how scary it seemed.
He then thought of the Beatles who had once said something about living being easy with eyes closed.
With that thought, he closed his eyes, but not his mouth.
Nothing ought to have changed, correct?
Thing is, and this is my hypothesis, the energy and the attention that he spent on seeing and analysing the useless sky were now diverted to a more useful function.
He remembered a religious text where it was implied, 'Go on and do what you must, chill on and live on; it ain't all that difficult dog!'
With that, he laughed out loud.
The laughter angered his head because, well, the head was focused on something so serious, when there was no reason for something as mundane as laughter.
So he decided to focus again, and he realised.
Good is never as good as much as bad is bad.
Which is why he will never be happy.
For only sometime back, something dreaded had been discarded FOREVER, but he gave such less thought to it now, that he didn't even relish it.
It's kinda sad, but such is the way of the present.
It is never as great as a present.
Coming back to this moron.
As he laid on the grass, an ant started crawling up his arm.
He felt it, but his eyes were shut remember?
So about the ant...
The ant too was talking loudly you see, but in a rather melodious way.
"O I like this hill,
The hill it makes me sway
To and fro!
Up I go
Battling my troubles away!!!
Soon I shall see the end.
When all shall fade n wear away.
That is when I descend.
Into another beautiful day!!!"

The guy, thought, an ant can sing, and I can not stop thinking.
Kind of insane.
So let me shut away my thoughts.
And think of a beautiful tomorrow,
Howmuchever absurd it may be.
But let me dream
Because well, I am an ant myself.

Rising asleep and falling awake

Lying on my bed
Counting the hours
When shall the sun arrive?
I cry in my bed
And my pillow is wet
There is no one around
Just me and myself
Wake up to face a new night
A new day and a new cry
The dream was a dream
Nothing happened
Nothing happened I feel.
I fell asleep and my body was in pain
I saw the stars through the roof above
I saw the ground as I flew around.
My neck cracks whenever I move it.
Things have changes and things are the same.
Everybody still talks.
They still believe what they believe.
There is no solace to be found.
Just sleep
A belief of regaining strength.
To face another useless sun.
To face another useless sun.
To believe that things shall become fairer.
And I will finally fall awake.
The ground it shook.
The day that I thought I fell awake.
I cry today as I write this.
I cry today as I think of all.

The Flight

There he drifted through the green layers
Strolling away and looking at none.
I said to him - O kind sir, spare a minute for this stranger kind sir.
He looked at me in disgust and asked me
"Why should I even think of a lowly creature as you?"
I said to him, " O - I know not why kind sir . . . May be I love you because of who you are. "

"But how do you know who I am?"

" O - I know you kind sir - you are the one who strolls in these gardens every night.
You look not like any other human I always see. You move like you are free. It is a trait not well seen anywhere I must say. "

" But what's so great about that you stupid kid? "

" Well, you see - and this is the truth - I aspire to be you one day.
Nothing related to what you may have achieved.
Rather, these plain 15 minutes when you walk the grass and sit in the rain.
The time when you sit alone next to that statue.
When you mumble to yourself and remember a pleasant time.
When you smile and you gaze. "

" Wow, you have been stalking me for quite a while haven't you? "

" Yes kind sir.
It has been long. "