All love could be

If there was a sound of love
Mine would scream, cry, and howl
And if it had a figure, a substantial shape visible
Mine would be like a mad man turning into a madder wolf;

If love had a language, a script
Mine would be Aztec-like words with Egyptian-like meanings,
If love was a movie or a play
Mine would would only begin after 1000 screenings.

My love, if it could be felt
It would feel like thousand leeches crawling underneath the skin
If it had a scent to it
It would smell of hell fire!
Oh love, If it could have a character
Mine would be of an undead warrior.

If love could be placed, stacked, categorised into the supernatural
Mine would be the ghost of Asmodeus,
And if love was a tree
Mine would have torquoise fruits, and purple leaves;

If love was a truth
Mine would be such none would believe,
If love was the part of a story
Mine would be called the climax,
Oh love! If it was a poetry
Mine would rhyme life with death.

If love had an emotion
Mine would never grieve
If love was a jewel
Mine would be with the thieves,
If love could be seen
All would, but she would never see
If love was only love
My love would never be.

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I did not go to the office today

Today, I avoided my work place,

Why? I am unsure

Maybe I just did not feel like today.

All night the previous night

I twisted and tossed and turned in my bed

while my mind in a fit vomited

Puked thoughts all night

And it puked so much,

that there came a little blood

And all I night I could not sleep

Lying awake, neither could I smile

nor could I weep.

When I woke up

the throat of my mind hurt,

From the incessant passage of thorny and prickly thoughts

And now it does not say anything

or think anything

Whilst I cried with a headache.

And the only words that mind could utter

were ‘I am Tired’

And cannot remain in the cage of these thoughts;

It cannot stay wired,

So my soul in the matter interfered

And decided that it did not want to go

to the office today;

for there I shall find people,

who are as alien as the moon

I see their light and the monster that squats

But I don’t see the beauty

I cannot feel the warmth,

So, I decided to not go and see them

I kept my eyes closed and stayed,

And I realised that I do not like what I do there

And hence I go to the office today.

 

 

 

A life, a dream, a disguise

A life, a dream, a disguise

A heart full of hearts

A mind filled with surprise;

 

A chamber to wallow

The world to observe

And myself to follow;

 

All in this life I have

Is a life, a dream, a disguise.

 

Back bent, knee straight

Alone I sit

Whilst peace awaits.

 

And as every moment of this eternal existence,

Surfs its way by

I ponder upon the latest lie,

 

For that is all I have

A life, a dream, a disguise

A heart full of hearts

A mind filled with surprise.

 

A life;

a dream;

a disguise.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Me

It feels great to be myself now,

not a son or someone’s in law,

neither a friend, nor a foe,

Nowhere to come from,

not a place to go.

My myriad faces and their scars,

the body, mind, and my soul,

It’s great to be left only with them now,

Nobody to ask a question,

and none waiting for an answer.

There is nothing to lose,

No fortune, no fame

And there is no one to blame.

Now, it’s just me

And it feels great,

It feels like god being just me.

Forgotten

I look at the faces

of men and women, I once knew

 

And I see

that they have changed so much,

They seem almost new;

 

Or have I been, so long gone

that I have almost forgotten

They way they looked at me

and I at them.

 

Have I been so long attached to

myself

That I do not remember

All that I am detached to.

 

What do you do?

What do you do?
When you have nothing to.
Do you sit by the window,
And look out, 
Look out at the world,
Wonder, what it is like to be that bee that hums and hovers over that red rose,
Or think about the decisions you made; the path you are walking on; and the people you chose.

Are you disturbed when you are alone?
Shhh! Come close
Close to yourself. 
Its cozy and comfy and lonely,
Better than those who are but are not
And those too who want to and cannot.

What do you do?
When you have nothing to.
Do you look into the mirror
And embrace the facade,
Click yourself and then edit
Whilst nature loses its credit.
Or do you rather see into your eyes
Try to locate the scars on your soul.

Is there a want of death lurking  about?
Hmmm! Shut up. 
Why to bother with it,
Or why to try to grasp its arms,
It is on its way to you anyhow.
So, you better live and act
Before the final bow.

What would do you do?
If you had something to do.
Hold someone's hand and with them stay
Or by yourself walk away,
Chain yourself with the laws meant to bound
Or hustle to change the things around,
Sweat and bleed to carve your way, 
Or would you let go and give away,
Dream a reality
Or lose yours to a dream,
Mediate in silence
Or burst out in screams,
Try to find what you desire
Or would you lose yourself in the world's mire,
If you had something to do?
Would you hold someone's hand and walk away
Or in your solitude forever stay.

To the tune of silent nights


Away from the world,
And it's deceiving ways,
I sit shrivelled up,
In solitude, and in her praise,
As the tranquil tune of the silent night, 
Plays; and plays; and plays.

Through the open window,
I gaze at the clouds,
Overlaying the starry skies,
Like a spotless shroud,
As my soul's unheard whimper,
Grow loud; and loud; and loud.

Until they are lost
In the silence that plays,
And whilst they depart,
The emptiness stays,
Amidst them the tranquil tune of the silent night,
Plays; and plays; and plays.

Therein creeps slowly her face,
Before even my senses yearn,
And utters to me in a mystical tongue,
That I try, but cannot learn,
And before even my eyes blink
It begins to burn; and burn; and burn.

And with it, burns my soul,
Tickling my heart with pain,
As I gaze into her fiery eyes,
Try hard, but fail to explain,
But my hopeful heart never fails to try
Again; and again; and again
.


Away from the world,
And its deceitful ways,
I sit shrivelled up,
While her ashes stay,
Amidst them the requiem of broken dreams,
Plays; and plays; and plays.