Oh life, so dear to me

Oh life, so dear to me
You brought me life,
A name, a family,
friends and enemies,
Life you got me
a girl, drinks, and drugs
The joy and the pain,
Kept me sober,
Drove me insane,

Oh life, so dear to me
You got me this life
And the sins with it,
and the water to wash them away,
You took me high,
You drowned me low,
My life, you got me a god
And acquainted me with the devil,
You told me the secrets and their reveal,
You showed me honesty
Let me be deceived,

Oh life, so dear to me,
You woke me up
And you showed me the dreams,
You heard my whispers
Muted all my screams,
And all else that you got me
I accepted, never asked, and carried on,
And all that you gave me
You did so on your own,

Now I ask you for something,
Oh life, so dear to me,
I took all that I could and you brought me
Now, could you please get me a gun,
Consider it a final request.



Thoughts and robots
That’s all I’m left with
And it doesn’t feel like life,
Life is where there is a drunk and a whore,
It is where dust is kissing the streets,
And the skin of that little girl
Who sits and has been sitting in her tattered clothes
since when I have no idea about,
Life is where a man just slapped another
And where the daughter came home
at 2.00 am,
The room where the husband kicked his wife
It’s where a son just buried his father,
And amongst the men who roam with a knife.
Life is where the buses and trains
that are filled with people
and the blend of their scents of day’s sweat have blended,
And the hospitals where patients wait on drugs and their body heals
Amdist the smell of drugs and vomit, and the colour of blood and piss,
Life is where people are finding time to romance in between their 10 to 7 jobs,
It’s where one is working hard while the other dictates,
It’s where politicians and businessmen devise their scams
And the terrorists plan their threats,
Life is where a blacksmith just lost his fingers
And a boy won the bet,
Life is on the bridges from where men have lept,
And in the chambers of the hearts
where all secrets are kept,
Life is where a murder of crows sings
And a poem writes itself,
Life is not here, it is where you left,
Life is there where life wrestles with death.


There are places and spaces
And in those places and spaces
There is no place for you,

So you walk away
You walk with all the desires withheld
You exit the dream of someone else,

And come back to your life
Where there is dust and smoke
Where you are merely just-a-bloke,

And you sit on the pot like a statue
With a cigarette between fingers
Suffocating slowly as the smoke lingers,

And then you stand underneath the shower
Wanting to wash the day off yourself
But you can’t lift your arms without someone’s help,

So you merely stand with head bent
Consumed and stoned
As your self leaves the rest and comes back to its own,

Then you sit, or crouch, or lie by yourself
Knowing and scared of a decaying life
Hoping and wanting to get hold of a knife,

So that you can end this downward helical fall,
And that is exactly what my heart urges me to do
But coward fails to find the courage to.

Drugs and Ink

My life is like the ruins of Jericho,

Ancient walls, alien and catatonic

standing contorted,

A stagnant instance of time

neither moving ahead, nor behind;

My life is like the blinking eyes of a blind

A beggar unkind,

A ship that cannot sail, cannot sink.

All that I possess

Is a restless mind

and a heart that cannot think,

Sleepy days, wakeful nights

An abundance of drugs and colourless ink.








It is hurting, already
Deep inside the walls of my heart
there are scratches,

Gifted by the claws of my dreams;

There is madness, sheer insanity
My consciousness hypnotised
and conscience vapourised,

I can see nothing, feel nothing
And there dwells no longing for anything
My existence is infected
By sleepless nights, intoxication; and this life

And there is none to turn towards now

There is none here to hear me scream,
So to the man in the mirror I speak,

With drooping lids and melting eyes
In the wakeful nights
I dream, I dream, I dream.