Sunday, July 20, 2008

Sinbad the Sailor

He could choose to groom for the women
But he chose the wind which lived in his hair
He could choose to hide from the sun
But he decided to answer his own prayer

He would swim to the floundering ship at the horizon
He would secretly dance to his hum, furtively smile
A lone cloud, he could bring rain standing alone
A migratory bird, he would forget the miles flown

Everyday he would follow his love, never tell
He would compose songs for her, which he would sell
Those who bought, bought a part of his heart
He would later reclaim these parts from every tart

Che Guevara on his t-shirt, he could bemuse
He could gamble and loose, smile and refuse
He could ravage and plunder, and blunder
Make love to a flower, tear a cliff asunder

He would wipe his brow with his sleeve
He would kneel to the cross and grieve
However he never let go of his bottle of gin
And he would savor every kiss of its sin

He was a sailor of the high seas, when he was afloat
He would curse the gale which rocked his boat
But he would make amends by ginger ale
Inebriated, then Sinbad would blow at his sail

Thursday, June 05, 2008


As long as it is the talk of life, talk is fine
I don’t intend to stay long for I am next in line
She waits with the last flowers at the door
If I have to smile I’ll reserve it for her implore

As long as you don’t blink, I’ll stare in your eyes
For I know it will keep you from hiding the surprise
But I will be honest, as long as you are strong
For I don’t know when you will be wrong

If she is smiling, it is for a reason known to none
She knows more than I do, as she has always done
Even on deathbed, I am the fool
I hate her, she makes me drool

You are my only hope, for you are inane
I know you mean your words and your wisdom is plain
You will be a toy all your petty life
As I have been all mine

But I have to face her one last time
At least this time all I can do is pantomime
For I never won a battle even in my heyday
She was my napoleon every single day

Monday, May 19, 2008


These are those times which were never meant to transpire. The fact that I jumped from a plane without a parachute was sufficient for it to rain. You can't call that unfortunate can you? But now as I am falling through a rarified ambience towards something I have come to hate, I don't know my probationary powers. All I know is that I have fellowship in thousands of drops which fall with me, none of them have chutes. Such indulgence would certainly call for reprimand, but I know I won't enjoy it, for it would put me back where I don't want to be. I am hoping to miss the ground with all my vengeance acting as a fillip to the parabolic drag.

I am reaching out to the iridescent diamonds; I am filling my imagination with their beguiled experiments with light. I know my eyes would never see this again, I know it won't be the same again. I am a flickering tort pursued by dampness, but it can't fall faster than me. I am a maladroit parachute in vacuum; I cannot feel what I can see. I am a deflated ego, following a Brownian trajectory, creating a perfect round halo. I never had a problem with striped shirts; I would look the same if I was wet.

I am flagrant for once, there were times when you could not unleash adjectives which defined the following paragraph, but we don't live in those times. I love killing the suspense. I love killing. Be it humour, fantasy, ego or rage, I know I have killed it all and thoroughly loved it. Never has pleasure for me assumed such hackneyed proportions, it is as if I would never be sad. I needed an infliction, so I decided to take the plunge. I am suffering now, the journey is the only respite.

Bitterness hits back with a rejoinder, and I rewording it. I swallowed something I cannot discern. Clemency was never a show queen, and never slept with me. I hate her. I love the bitterness of black coffee, I relish its cream. Under a leaking roof all I can feel is the rain. Everything else is a passing vagary, all mundane mildness.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Back to life.

I come across as a dispensable sketch by Picasso
Trying to leash my rebel shadow with a lasso
I am not running from the sun anymore
For I have given it all that I wore

Every motion seems like a hot pursuit
The air hugs me like water flowing through a conduit
I am watching the sunset in the rear view
I am giving up all the love I could ever chew

I am walking away from the wreck of the day
I am giving the stars a name, showing them the way
I am holding diamonds in my hands
I am running in search of unnecessary errands

I feel you in my veins, you are like winter
I feel like releasing you, search for a splinter
I still hang on the old oak in the field
My arms still stretched and the body still peeled

When you gave me that second glance
I knew I did after all stand a chance
So I sold my citadel, and I am free to jump
I am poor again, picking on the garbage dump

Wednesday, May 07, 2008


Two silhouettes block the sun, they look into the ocean
A ship smokes on the horizon, offloading its emotion
A man on the ship looks back, curses the shore
The couple at the shore is smug, they let the waves roar

The kiss when it comes, is hard and long
The light hides all that could go wrong
Hand in hand they accost me, etch me with chalks
I am a memorial for all those whom love stalks

They say the waves shout, as I stand in their way
They say the ships sink because I didn’t show them the way
I never ever felt the need of arms around me
And, yesterday a girl stole my dream to be free

Yet I stand, and shine for ships and couples alike
I am a their confidant, I am their secret dyke
I am their witness, to their promises to change
And, I watch over their past, till it is out of range

Friday, May 02, 2008

Sculpturing ice...

Here I am, setting alight a dark room where I play
A match ensconced between my fingers is here to stay
Icy crimes stare at me, repugnance in their eyes
I was just being myself, my naïve innocence cries

A table sits, in the center of the room
She sits on it, hallucinating amongst the fume
She has the cigarette she stole from the ‘liar’
She can’t find the light so I set myself on fire

I see her curl like the smoke, my breath tastes her
She tastes like early rain, she douses my slur
I could grab her at this moment, but I stare
She wants me to chisel her to memory, I dare

The blue flames, they dance to her travesty
She ain’t blaming me for lack of modesty
I am her potter, she relishes the my flames
I am telling her this won’t qualify for winter games

Saturday, April 05, 2008

Tell me...

It’s what you did to me, that brings me here
It’s what you forgot to tell which ain’t fair
I still have with me the last words you spoke
Tell me you can’t feel me pulling at our ‘yoke’

Promises, they hold their secrets from me
Moments, mundane they were left to be
I don’t believe them, they never have to lie
Tell me you never wished I would die

I am here in a canopy, floating in thin air
I can see you, close enough to dare
But you have the sun in your eyes
Tell me you didn’t feign the surprise

You see me now; I still live in your insouciance
You can’t reach me in my moment of valiance
You yearn for me, you are tender again
Tell me I didn’t warn you about the pain