Those platonic verses
Shifted in between
an immovable power
Of the violin strings
Creating a dulcet noise
A paradox
Because when words
and music collide
There came a new
Force into existence
Which began to mould
every soul
From the beginning
Like a child's clay dough.

Bipolar
There’s this label 

Which moves everywhere
with her 
Now and then 

Distracting people

And 
Making her life miserable

Because they think

It’s something different 

She’s something different 

There has been a breakdown
She’s mentally sick 

But do you listen to her soul 

Asking people

If they’re not different 

From one another 

Or are they not

Allowed to express themselves  

Everybody is different 

And they prove their existence

In their own ways

She has to behave

As if she has something 

On her conscience 

Something lurks every second 

In the corner of her mind 

With a sublime confidence 

Of acceptance 
But
Anhedonia comes alive with the words coming

Out one by one or rather 

All at once 

Incomprehensibly prefect 

But this label 

Those pills

That prescription 

Only swallows her

From within.

I open the door

And walk In 

And sit

And forget

To write,

I look outside the windows

My thoughts collide

And a battle ensues 

I look at my broken typewriter 

And my broken mind 

And those broken thoughts

I’m just thinking.

Did I write what I had to? Or was it just another round of procrastination.

Last night 

She accidentally

Walked to her balcony 

And looked outside 

She saw her soul 

Wandering 

Being sabotaged 

By demonic creatures 

Molested by those unholy beings 

But all she could do was 

Stand and stare 

Scrutinise and regret 

Because then she realised

She let it go

7 years ago

When she 

Questioned her existence 

And acted in an immoral way.

Afraid of the dark
Afraid of the shadows
Watching from behind
Afraid of the sparrows.

Afraid of the night,
Afraid of the flight.
Hiding behind the curtains,
Afraid of moonlight.

Afraid of the trees,
Afraid of the breeze.
He didnt like his place,
Afraid of the seas.

Afraid of the jaguar,
Afraid to go too far.
Hated the idea of living,
Afraid of the scars.

Afraid of the oceans,
Of the ships sailing by.
Afraid of the sunrise,
Also Afraid of the sky.

Afraid of the drums,
Afraid of the beats.
He told like liked competition but
Afraid to sow the seeds.

Afraid of the cross,
Afraid of the shine.
Hated to boast himself a lot
Afraid of the rhyme.

Afraid of the colours,
Afraid of the rainbow.
Colour blind he wishes he was
Afraid of the world .

Afraid of the melody,
Afraid of the songs.
Broken strings of the guitar,
Afraid of the strong.

Afraid of the screams,
Afraid of the dreams.
Wasn't sure of his abilities,
Afraid of the teams.

Afraid of the paradise,
Afraid to rise.
He wanted death,
Afraid of the lies.

I wouldn’t mind

Going through 

Those bits and pieces
Scattered like stardust 

In my mind 

Moving collectively 

With a desire 

To capture 

All the other 

Unearthly things 

And bring them in 

Like the tide 

On the ebb

Enrapturing my soul

And swallowing the 
Darkness 

Into the shadows 

But under the 
Crepuscular light

All that happens 

Is decided by your deeds

And not your dreams.

She’s looking up,
At the constellations,
And trying to make sense,
And trying to discern something .

Those stars,
They’re looking down upon her,
Thinking how easy it is to fool her,
How easy it is to help someone in being preoccupied all night,
How all the random thoughts take perfect place in the witching hour,
How overthinking makes her brain dysfunctional but she has to live with it,
Everyday,
Inadvertently,
she forgets the kind of place this is.
Here,
The ones who try, suffer
The ones who don’t, suffer.
This place favours nobody
Every second, it is eating you up.

Millions of men with matchsticks
Brought their heads to
The oceans of kerosene
******* forged their existence
And they weren't able to retaliate
Thousand whispers of desire
Of living a peaceful life
Echoed among the mountains
And between the valley of death
Days were enumerated and artifacts collected
The stories seemed to be a passage full of euphemisms
A dystopian atmosphere took over their utopian views
The matchstick was struck
And humanity collapsed.

With every beckoning move
My power self destructed
I stood among the audience
With no outrageous opinions
I performed as a harlequin
Trying to dulcify my motives
My torn pockets spilling sand
The baptism of fire
They said they were comrades
But at that moment
They enunciated
My defeat
Strenuously.
I'm tired of seeing the wall break
My cigarette stained hands yearn for demise

A blank canvas.
A vacant room.
A Cogitative mind.
Extraordinary Imagination.
But,
Fear of Criticism.
Lost

Rather,
Defeated.

In an enigmatic way
I let you in
The day I put the words
On paper
Vulnerability existed
I could hear my shadows scream
And chasing pavements
My heart sinking like a
Colossal wreck
Staring aimlessly
Wandering uncounsciously
The duality betrothed  
With the emptiness
I'm still anticipating
For a transformation
Of this emotional trauma
It seems as if those
People are just drifting apart
Leaving me behind
In this frivolous state
I still don't know the intention
Of this unwilling soul

Is it just wanting to descend into a state of chaos?

Two white strings
Entangled and Astray
Finding a way
In The rose pink light of dawn.  

In the pink light of dawn
The cicadas venturing
Into a new place
For a new journey

For a new journey
A hundred birds migrate
Away from the clamour
Where the sun rays lighten the soul

Where the sun rays lighten the soul
The shadows prove to be farce
As night time descends
The world comes to an end.

And the conversation was just a call away

But who’d explain
what she said 

Who knew how things work 

Nobody has got the answers 

Nobody knows 

They just pretend.

Movement of impatience. 

Erroneous steps. 

Irrelevant arguments. 

False accusations. 

Sadistic approaches. 

Self centred minds. 

Disgust.
Nobody lives
They just exist.

The fairy tales
And the horrendous stories
The fear in your soul
Also the philanthropists' empathy
Nothing works here
Nothing remains.

Strings of conversations
Awestruck
By the way you hypnotise
The world
By your
Innumerable lies
Nobody speaks the truth
The world is a farce

Overcome by lassitude
I took out my typewriter
And wrote a letter
To

The rhapsodic songs
I kept singing all night
A resonant guffaw
For

150 words of poetry
On tessellated fabric
Written with thick black ink
In the memory of


The forgotten.

Apocalyptic dreams
An ubiquitous presence of the unholy entities
I'm sitting by the riverside
My cat has suddenly started exhibiting taciturn traits
Spiders are floating with immense soigné
The bucolic setting leaves me hypnotised
I'm not used to this silence
Fishes underwater petrify my insights
I'm sitting by the riverside
Amazed by the eloquence of the obscure
My eyes seem to reflect my up bringing
The differences leave me in a state of vertigo
I hope this reverie lasts a little longer.

She stood
In the middle of a storm
The ocean floor slipped from
Beneath her feet
The waves let out a howl of anguish
She stood there
Imperatively  
Helplessly begging for clemency  
The water touched the rocks
And moved away
Tides were high
Moon was involved in a surreptitious affair
The passerby ignored her
With uttermost ingenuity
He knew
she was the bone of contention
Of the evil
She was an illusion
She spun the web and caught her prey
He knew the tales of the people
Who had
developed an infatuation with her
Together she commemorated the
Death of all those imbecile beings
Every minute
Gravity pulled towards her
A different kind of person
A different soul
Every minute destructed itself
Whatever was left  
was summoned to her with a grin.

As each thought escalated,
Insanity got a new definition .
The consonants betrothed,
The vowels rejoiced,
But every second,
The meaning died.

She drowned in her past 

Because the hope of 
keeping up to the present
killed her

And the promises 
which were about to 

Be proven false

Would make people hate her

And her expectations 

Which she considered a dream 

Appeared to be a major threat
For her existence 

Those changes falsified her world. 

She smoked a joint 

Looked behind 

Consumed herself in the 
Hypocrisy of today 

And passed away.

Every minute 

I move forward
and backward 

Feel elated and dejected 

At the same time

From both ends of the world

I retrograde 

Explicitly consign into oblivion

Those marred thoughts 

I introspect 

And question 

My beliefs and it’s pros and cons 

Then backward 

I run counter to 

Those thoughts 

I agree to it 

And purport to be satiated 

There’s a lapse of time 

And I’m forgotten 

Or maybe I forget 

I run 
Here and there 

Incorrigibly perfect 

Like those fake palindromes 

Among those assertive 

Words.

12:39 a.m
At first I was trying
To make it rhyme
With no reason
Pushing them together
Those words
Those meanings
Drifting apart
One by one
I made everything
Sound spurious
Pretentious
Fabricated.

12:41 a.m
Two minutes later
I realized
There's no complication
It's me
Who's the stonewall
Preventing those
Words
From making sense
Creating a rumpus
An unnecessary altercation
Casting cement for my own bridges.
It was illegitimate.

2:41 a.m
Two hours later
I understood the power of words
I proposed an adamantine will
Purported to it  
Maybe
But things were now clear
I wasn't lying to myself
I sounded reasonably correct
In my mind
Unconsciously pondering
Consciously oblivious.

1st January,2017
Now, it has been years
It was me who acted like a can of worms  
All these years
Now it goes with the flow
It's difficult to tread the boards
Now my words
Are prepotent
Adequate
I stopped rhyming
Now the arrow hit the spot.

One flick of the match
And you lit up
To destroy the evenness
Of her functioning

Burning on one end
Glowing ember
Self destructing yourself
As well as her minutes

She quickly exhales
You slither through
The veins and her lungs
Clasping her blood
Her eyes being the reflector of the sins

Everyday those twenty bucks
Distributed in innumerable spaces
For preparation of Her funeral
For the ashes in the vase.

Beginning to remember
How it had just started
Now it's gone
I was gone for two weeks
And the river is now frozen
It was an inchoate group
Laying the bricks
One by one
But they departed so soon
Like the ignoramus men on the sidewalks
Herding like sheep to make a living
Like some old fat lady sitting by her children
With a half filled cup of happiness
Afraid of losing herself
Like those water drops on cold winter mornings
Forcing life to stay torpid
Pragmatism collapsed into my veins and
I heard the cat door slam and immediately looked at the clock
It was dead

There's a
Path I found
Yesterday
where I continually
Seek pleasure
In getting entangled
Within the
Rigmarole of lies
The maze creates a
Scar deeper than
That soul buried
Deep beneath the ground.
Stronger than the
Hallucinations of that
Schizophrenic lady
In rehab.
More profound than
Those million books kept in
The library.
I try to get back
But I'm stuck.
Inadvertently.

I emptied myself
Into a flower vase
Eight minutes before
The sun went down
And I lie motionless
And cringe away from
The dead reality
My thoughts circling around
Rings of ancient wisdom
Motionless
With my feet touching
The ocean floor
And my eyes remain
Beneath the pall
Watching the vultures
With my fingers numb
And the smile on my face
As steady as the thunder
And rain pouring down
And my heart lost
Lying somewhere
Along with the ashes of the dead bird
Singing away
In a place
Where I'm yet to be born.

I live the life of a metaphor
Leaking out of stolen pens
I've been carved on pieces of wood
And people still interpret me differently
I choose to remain indestructible
My worth fluctuates with the readers taste
I make a difference in some places
I might just go unnoticed
Like a wilted rose and it's bleeding petals
Lying behind the window pane
I represent the spectrum
In the gray tinted universe
I'm forced into the anecdotes
In places I don't want to be
Creating a dark impression
Like a mirror in front of the wall
Mocking at its own reflection.

You've been wondering that you've got
No tiny false extraction point
A deluded perception of reality
Blood flowing round the corner of the streets

There's a creeping centralisation of power
And a hoarse whisper in your ears
It's time for your magnanimous self
To let the ego drain away

A thousand battles and memoirs
Those anecdotes you never read
They're the fables of your life
Hinging upon a soft limerick

And now when you try to
Juxtapose those thoughts in your mind
The imbecile beings around
Whitewash your victory and demise.

You'd find me
By the riverside
Moving along with the moon
Staring at those
Celestial bodies
Which seem to
Deport me to
An unknown place
Where I belong
Where I should be
The Orion looking down upon me
While I travel
Back in time
And confabulate
With pagan
Question the existence of
Humans
And denounce the
World as a farce
Create a different place
With only those
Animals sacred to Apollo
Those swans and ravens
And Cicadas
And remain.

Last night
You kept your words
To yourself and I kept
The ones with me to mine
They kept tying themselves
Into knots
Now they're so into each other
That I can't find a way out
And I'm beginning to slip
Into a plethora
Of dry ashes
And cold feelings
My fingers moving on the edges
My soul rejecting the claustrophobic nature
Of your cranky behaviour.

No words could be spoken
Wrapped around in a beret
Nothing could be sensed
Cats lay torpid
He jingled the coins in his pocket
There's not much he had
There was nothing he spoke
A cold wall of dissociative amnesia
A blustery day
Driving all those fears
Into the wild
Covering all those scars
With ice cakes.

Day after day
I kept on
Stacking those phrases
And I created a different
Glossary In my mind
Of unwarranted thoughts
Floating in some other place
Seeking attention
Being ignored
Wailing for approval
Rejected innumerably
Creating a hassle in my mind
A fracas among those letters
Causing dementia
But it's me myself
The bone of contention
Of these unattended
Lies.

It was my
favourite puzzle
And the best time of
The day
More of pretence
Or actual happiness
Was something
Which couldn't be figured
Lying to self
Caused harm
Truth was even bitter
I was trying to
Stay awake
And arrange those
Pieces
I felt a strong
Disinclination
And wanted to
Battle it out
I looked at the illustrations
And stood flabbergasted
Nothing made sense
I had to be
cognisant of
Those boundaries
And keep my self
Wrapped up
There was a piece
Lying by my side
Which wasn't a part of
The puzzle
It was just
An infatuation.

Those rocks
And mountains
Casted a shadow
And also
Those little
Dwarfs

The trees in winter
Casted a shadow
And also
the birds
While they laugh

Those lakes
And rivers
And other million drops
Casted a shadow on the
Land

Those numbers
And words
Casted a shadow
Those letters
And their meanings
At a stand

A part of those letters
Are left behind in the red cannon
A few pages of utmost sincerity
Caressing the unknown
A few instances of the unrequited love

A leaf on the ground
Her veins holding on to the clot
Blood dripping from her soul
Mice infecting the city with the plague
Thoughts destructing her mind recklessly

Two hundred dollars
The ******* looks at his face in disgust
Is the hatred unconsciously precarious on his doings
The past mocking at his present
She's grave and he's cruel

The wind tonight will not blow
Lights have been told to turn the people blind
They will all purport to be satiated
And within themselves
Die with the top notch blades cutting them straight.

It was the 
Bewitching hour

And my shadow was

Not more than adumbrated 

By the meager light light

In no time

I would reach an interstellar place 

The ocean of emptiness 

And would destroy myself.

Each atom would disintegrate

As it fell on the cosmic rays 

Unvarying 

But the umbrage of the banyan tree 

Caught me 

Captured my soul 

For it was as sacred 

As the Greek mythology 

And the sins
I had committed 

Were forgiven.

Thankfully.

In the backyard near the mosses
electric blue wrens
The blackbird singing away
A myriad of stars
In this sky with subtle humour
Tingling away with mischief
Changing hue every now and then
Sun toughened lovers
Walking hand in hand
Fade away into the darkness
Collapse in the middle of nowhere
Lost
With their voices echoing
from under cedar covers
Waves dancing under the crimson sky
Transformations hiding its alibi
They're floating on the blue vitriol
Of early February
Northwest autums turns to winter
The snowflakes melt in the presence of the heat
I'm still finding the chameleon
And the lovers who disappeared last night
I'm still lost in the shades of blue
An electric energy reaches out to paradise.

I’ve tried to

Convey a Different

Message 

Every-time
I 
Expected the sun to rise

But there are 

A set of paradigms

Which make my words

Seem incomprehensible 

Human nature 

Which makes
everything 

Look alike 

Stereotypes 

Which destroy
the aura 
Of life 

Gluttony which 

Corrupts the imbecile 
And nevertheless

Darkness which 

Collapses into my soul 

Electrifying the originality

And making everything seem

As if

They’re rewritten.

Behind a vague line
I saw the silhouettes of the ancient times
And those puppeteers mocked at the people
For every second went away

In those twenty two minutes
I cried my heart out
Because the rain wouldn't stop and those dreams wouldn't die
But my body worked fine and my defence was stout

But it's more like an erosion
Taking away everything from behind
Leaving in those pitiless hearts
A morose anger and a sadistic charm

The souls got lost
Every ligament detached
The feelings sloshed and fought through the acid
All the attempts proved to be a fiction

It was the last morning
And the last night of the life
It was the last time
She spoke
They spoke
And then
The artists painted with a devilish grin on their faces
Those stories
Those lies
That darkness

Steel rimmed spectacles
The fog is going to **** me
Brakes fail
Endless thoughts
A cut
So deep that my fear sublimed
drenched in sorrow
halcyon as ever
A myriad of mistakes
I have to compromise
because of my repugnant taste
I have to slaughter
my cashmere and its owner.

The acid
Slipped in between
Those innumerable thoughts
And collided with
The astringent taste
Of those bitter sweet words
Trying to find a way out
With modesty
The insipid semblance
On its way
To destroy the
Sanctity of the place
From both ways
It's just the pretence
Which is allowing
The situation to be
Handled fluidly
We're both equally intoxicated.

Times change and people change. Nobody stops for anyone. I'm stuck on the crossroads of my destiny hopelessly wandering and probably overthinking because that's what people do at 2 am in the night. When you gaze at the stars and wonder about everything that will make sense in sometime. It's not just insomnia, it's the desire to make most of every second. It was one of those times when I was stargazing while listening to post rock, trying to figure out how these stars don’t fail to captivate one completely
The desire to create and destroy. Intriguing fallacies blindfolding you are now gone.  It's that time of the day, when conversations are subtle and make so much sense that tomorrow when you wake up and join the rat race you'll remember nothing about this. This is why it remains a dream, exactly why I don't like the fact that the civilisation decided to sleep at night. Why not do something better, do something you want to achieve and begin, begin at night. Why these rules and restrictions, these boundaries caving your musings. These walls enclosing your mind. Think of something beyond this. Explore. The universe is ******* rad. Why work during the day when it is all dull and monotonous, when the sun is shining and you're low, engrossed too much into something you don't actually wish for. The light gives you hope? The darkness gives me company, it gives me peace. The constellations are mystifying. I wish to stay up till 4 am and figure out everything I don't know the answers to. I wish to make every moment a success. Ten years later you'll be living a different life, now you're living a different one. Why waste this night? Time doesn't wait for you, you shouldn't wait for it as well. Wake up.

There's no keynote
Or some particular issue
In my mind
It's just the void
Trying to fit in
There is no predicament
Its just these words
Trying to find space
Provocatively engaging my mind
To work on something
That ought to be done
Like it's some imperative assignment
Just these consonants
Camouflaging and slaughtering
That empty space
These characters from one
To twenty six
Continually withering
In search of a place
With Some connotation.

The second chapter began

And no story 

Was told

But some secrets 

Began to unfold 

Some mysteries 

Consumed in the darkness

Found their place

The urge was 

To deal with things

In a pragmatic way 

To mould the fable 

With pertinency 

Refrain from portraying

Crass assumptions 

Impersonate the characters 

With the queerest disposition 

So that by the time 

You drown into that tale 

There’s nobody left alive to 

Impute their arguments 

There’s no need to appeal for clemency.

Walking on a bridge
I try to remember
All those moments
Of unharmed silences
And petrifying darkness
Savouring our situations
Conquering the world
Making false promises
I spilled water
On your paintings
Smudging charcoal on
All those letters you gave
I feel a fire
The answers are disappearing
One by one
The questions forever
Entangle me
On the crossroads of my existence .

I heard you're talking about
Splitting the fortune into two
With the silver revolver in her hand
Gasping her breath she's walking down the aisle
Burning red than fading blue
The odds of your lumbered existence fall flat
If only the armour was repossessed
By a harbinger from your mother womb
Would you realise the game ceases to exist
It's all in your mind in caught in your rigmarole of lies
Overhwhelmed by your streak of luck
You command the move to be played
If only you knew
the result already is checkmate
When the lady sitting across placed a bet
You lost it all to her and satiated yourself to her charm
But she's walking down the aisle now
Burning red than fading blue
Black and red you lost it all
You went home and pretended to be unscathed
But this time there's no way back
It's the lady coming towards you
With the biased musket at her disposal
This is not your gambling den
Here comes apocalypse
It's Russian roulette.

On the crest of the wave I decided to sit down at my  14 year old escritoire

On the advent of spring I decided to
Fill up the moats in my backyard  

The quill in between my fingers commemorating the fall of the mighty empires when I was actually rubbernecking the flowers I filled up the ditches with.

Two universes in my mind helpings shape intricate designs and the inkwell acts as a magnet attracting my soul to get lost within these paradoxes

If I walk towards the palaces the kings will ask me to extemporise tricks of which are on my finger tips

If I walk towards the patio I will fall into the area next to it and be buried beneath the flowers

Met with an accident 20 years ago when I was thinking of neologisms
when I was thinking of atypical aphorisms
when I was lost in between the metaphors.

I have mere recollections of
******* cocktails being served
Under the starless sky
Because the stars allure the poets
And the poets mistake them for shooting stars

Another thing I'm reminded of is
Envelopes with pink and gold glitter dust
It's better to keep them untouched
Because touching them means food for thought
And food for thought is mistaken for inessential complexity

The last thing that comes to my mind
are the old chandliers in the hallway
And it's better to not look up while walking
Because blinding light would result in a catastrophe
And a catastrophe would restrict my recollections to these few elements