"Lie beneath the galaxy in a cathedral silence,
Stay up till the Sun dives behind arid eminence."

Out there in the seething cold sun,
The glint blinding all that I could see,
Light headed, drowsy for a lack of air,
Disconnected from all that to me dear,
And disconcerted of all that came prior,
Or was about to ensue..
.
I found myself ✓

Don't touch me by the tender points
It hurts more than a soul can bear
Be gentle lest the pain doth spread
It moves me on to silent tears
Don't judge me as I let it pass
Let me lie down in bed & writhe
And wish for a reprieve of sorts
Or drug that cures me of this plight
How 'd you know how much it hurts
I have faked on a smile and laugh'd
Sanity hangs loose on edges now
If only I could alter the story's draft
Yet, clarity missing from how it ends
Unforeseen misadventures lie in wait
I have learnt to be at ease; with ache
And strife, this life & dragging weight

I am damaged goods
A corruption of heart
Up from abyssal depths,
Down to desolate clouds.
The fragment lying between
I am not the incessant air,
A rage of non awakening.
Culmination of all fears.
No words do then, describe
me; I do not conform to rules.
Exception I am; ambiguous
A regular consonantal fool ?
Decreed to consume it all
I carry a ravenous thirst.
Unchecked; I grow fervor
A demon, I am accursed.
Where, then, do I find home
Where does my soul belong ?
Whom shall I call my tribe
Then; what do I, thus long ?
I am damaged goods, get ye'
I do not conform to codes.
I belong to the nether realm
Let me lie, in my .. abode.
Do not then, exhume me,
I have chosen to slither in. And,
Lie dormant in the underground.
Where exist I may, in quiet
Lie hidden away, from the
carnal realm, I want none of it.
A monster of my own making,
A necromancer of the Undead.

We went barefoot
To the edges of where
The earth uprooted, and
Trees lay barren, with sand
tracks bearing testimony to a
Wretched depravity of time !
And we lay threadbare
In the cool April night,
Gazing upsky for hours,
Waiting in expectations,
For ñ elusive silverlight,
Of the fiery celestial might.
Of it's exhilarating approach,
and it's rapid tumultuous demise,
East onto west; upon the lunar sky.
And we wished to capture it, but
All that we could come up with,
Ws' an oak tree, in its wry solitude
Standing stolid, sly and slender
Mere spectator to the cosmos,
Yet, laughing at our fascination;
Of a lucid spectacle,
Which it did witness,
In its forlorn anomaly,
Innumerable instances
Of it's stoic incessant
Time.

The stitch in mine
Is not like yours
A cut deep down
Into my soul
Am made of dust
From stars below
In shades I flourish
Deep dark I flow

At home I am
Inside my hull
Away from bias
Rubbed in salt
Away from dispute
Hatred immense
Inward I look
In my defense

Observer of time
A soul so old
Rivaling the titans
I stand so bold

Infuriating accession
From exterior advances
Yet trudging along
Onwards alone

I go

My little game of  Chess
That I played, with you
Making subtle moves
Hinting all too softly
Allowing impasses
Offering a pawn
Renouncing knights
Denouncing  a  bishop
Even giving up my Queen
That trying game of  Chess
It appears, has come to a stale
Without one word spoken, without
An idea or intellect having being shared
My dear, I have not tried hard enough, and
I shall never be the wiser for not having made a move

A gentle pungence of the nutmeg
Burns the hands that dwell in its ashes
Sprinkle generously, lest you want the
concoction, to turn out bland.
Yet, how would bland be? A curry.
Dressed in an assortment of spices,
As, Cardamoms and Peppercorns and
Cinnamons and Aniseeed_ Do add a
bay leaf as you temper the potion
to a base.

It is joy, manifold_ flavours not just in
conclusion but odyssey of the process.
It is joy, unbound, creation nienté
could bring about such happiness !
Joy of the 'Kitchen Wizard' is
in his pots and potions found !

The noonday demon striking at midnight,
The end of daylight, shadowing my cove.
A journey solitary in obnoxious overtures,
Or of demise denouncing such pails of ruin.

The noonday demon that dwells in my head.
That black cat of old, it looms large nigh.
Insignia, memoribilia .. it's scriptures swell.
Inscriptions in alien hand scribble my mind.

The noonday demon pushes me on edge.
A hairlength between relapse and freefall.
Arbitrary insignificance caress my nerves,
Neurotic endeavours imminent, and I halt.

Halt for thought, convictions sedate.
Paralysis;  onset of dementia ensues.

And the noonday demon
Gobbles me up at midnight.

Through thick and thin,
       Through every clamoring din,
You have been my unfaltering constant

The fortress that which is your mind
May find not such turmoil as harsh
And instead might as well, rejoice
The shackles which at present bind
Or may be, but it shall doth budge
The resolve of its castles strong
And surely not, it shall not smudge
Ordeal undertook by genial souls
What may be, will have then begun
Fear not, have faith on the virtuous
Path; Think not, what if but of the
Good, that has_ and in time you will
Clearly see; mental tenacity will be
Yours, decreed; Have just clear head
Upon thy broadsword. Nothing else
Will have; or will ever matter more !

Talk not of people how very sane;
They tear and burn, they droop inflame
Figure not how soon, they drift away
They were not yours, they go astray
How fine the fickle minded brain !
It tickles, turns and rocks and rains
Inferring merely in whims and charms
Reckoning unknowing at a single disarm
Misfired flames that bring to ruins
The gentle laughter into heckled fumes
Fuming rage that never could ****
Yet, had enough to sincerely reveal
Displaced prejudice or hurtful losses
Not the flower, that I knew apostle
Sincere my wishes, apologies true
I beg, conclude and give in to you

Eerie when it's three twenty-five
In the mornings of a nevermore
Fiendish powers dwelling inside
Awakened in a feverous implore
Darkness harkens souls to stay
When in an illuminating twilight
Subconscious turns ashen gray
Plants suffering a certain blight
Sleep had long not hypnotized
Nights, they pass in dry spells
No ravens come a tip tapping
Upon my mind's sly betrothal
Yet, the witching hour beckons
My brain has a way of knowing
Night, just half of it is passed
Rest half would be my undoing

In times like these, prepare a life jacket
Keep it donned lest you fall down and drown
Take measures full to not let health sicken
There is full season left to weather out
May stay inside, pick up a lost hobby
May reconnect with one's far flung and old
May find joy in just keeping to oneself
May do a thing not before once foretold
Desperate measures you will have to take
Loved ones dear may not share your heartache
Help yourself then and be not sad, my boy
Grace from above shall fall on your ship of Troy
A lighthouse at shoreline seen from here afar
Till then, be safe and rejoice in your bell jar.

She grasped me by the notes of affection. Making me believe that, once more I can love .. that emptiness is not my destination .. making me complete and insurmountably whole .. what fell me down to rigorous discourse .. could she be the one to open my shell .. I have explored the idea, not much by far.. for affection is in its own place.. commitment is its own.

There is a mist that seems flowing
Upon that which was once clear,
A fog of emotions glooming over
And a wretched, untethered fear.

A life lived but limitless, yet in
Pensive misgivings doomed.
And a life lived all too fully yet
In anxious unease consumed.

Is one single moment of Eureka
Be best a man could conquest?
Or a lord, or a lover.. say, together
Could one lifetime ever manifest ?

There are doubts in those living
A manual, never was .. on Life
Serendipitous journey, is it not then?
What an adventure, 'tis to be alive !

Light steps taken through teenage and out,
Into the labyrinth of knowledge immense.
The days he spent were rigorous & tough,
Enlightenment sought for a spiritual dance.
Six years went by and more eventually will.
The eternal student in the medical field.
Harrowing swiftly over his patients of old,
And sick and depleted and demented and cold.
He earned his due over their recovery, well
A touch of satisfaction akin divinity's swell.
Higher powers of cure none else could whim,
But wait, the pack made a all-knowing of him.
"How could he not cure the morbid of ills?
What use of his nobility if the reaper won still?"
And it was then that the violence did start!
With bare hands, metal bars and no holds bar!
He survived, near death_just mortal he was,
The in-fights & dog-fights & fist-fights too much.
With loss of faith and beliefs in shambles,
The young doctor, yet arose atop all scandals!

Distraught and desolate yet dauntless in will
He hopes for his servitude to have a meaning, still!

I long to stand a moment more, to
Bask in spring time summer’s cove
For I am cold~ the skin turns pale
Such chills I feel, it grows in scale

Till evening come to rescue mine
Light off me beam, I burn to shine
Been dark enough, it does not die
Been drear enough, time to defy |

This paper boat you sail in hopes
Let currents take it up the *****
Why give it strength, let it just fly
How far can will (lone) carry thy?

Rest, O Passenger_ you shall not reign
Morning is nigh, this midnight wanes
And light so peers, but of what use?
This moonless night, you don’t refuse !

Take heart then in thus standing out~
There have been more, be on lookout
Find path where there have been none
Pathfinder, seeker ~ you just begun !

Existence, consciousness ..

who are we and what do we do ..
A puff out .. a drag of cold air, racing .. racing .. head full of existential thoughts  . ..
Living, a wine glass .. a shot of warmth down my throat  . . Emotions these running flow of consciousness .. why do I think it all ?

Lying, in the dark .. an athem of sort, in silence reforms .. ideas and lack of them .. and thoughts, a void is born !

Internalising emotions .. finding my thoughts so alive in this darkness  ..
Hurriedly may I pass away to a lack of form ..

Insanity .. beckons me .. and what more can I do but nod .. meaning, I seek meaning. And not an iota of cognition is ever got.

Tired, I am tired of life as I know it, the bones ache, the thoughts become nonsensical and we deliver as we are meant to .. not very sure, not very sound .. in the air . . drifting slowly, and surely .. towards an end.

What is this eternal rack of hell that we are accustomed to... What is this longing for something that has passed us far by .. who am I even, floating aimless .. who are we, under our skin tight hides.

Disaster in the waiting, a last beacon calls to the inward eye .. and I see, albeit shrouded in dark .. nothing. Alas, no meaning.. an absurd, surreal delusion called Life.

Looking at you, ten minutes or more
As you did look, let out vacant stares.
I tried not much, just stood my ground
In such intricacies, love; I disappeared
How elegant you seem, without trying
Too much; the red in lips, awestruck !
The hair in a bun, in an all perfect black
Apparition of your being, it is flawless.
Dear, I am smitten in such hues you don
The reds and blacks and whites and on,
The due in dots, and cells eloping out.
Imagery adding _ layers to your form
Who then, be, creator to your frame ?
A bold tryst in stolid magnificence !
Who then, birthed such countenance,
In contemplation, I just wither away.
For a moment now, for a moment till
Let me just bask, let my soul fill
And in beauty, won't it, I consume.
Refuel my heart, for the dry dunes.
Let me just stare, as you do stare
In art that brings you, alive today.
Let me just stand, deep in thought
And offer you a thoughtful bouquet.

I escape !
The eyes close,
My brain, a barn on fire
Burning; numb the sore
Sweat, tracing it's track
Swoop, the drool flows
Heaviness in the head,
Flash, ran the fly across
Light sways tumultuous,
Drumroll; a fleeting close
Lucid acid dreams,
Sweet almonds,
Thought of you.

And suddenly nothing.

My evening star stopped shining bright
It went off course, into the dark night
I saw it not, for it was.. perhaps a year
Or so it appeared to a brooding mind
I had nurtured it true, for my sore eyes
Every ev'ning, its twinkle w'd bring me
Delight; but off it went, into the black
Never to soothe my eternal sore eyes
It left me stranded, who w'd have seen
The end to our rendezvous, I c'd never
Foresee_ it had been pure intimacy of
A different kind; why then retire into
The dark night, why resign dear, w'out
A single sigh ! A shining star, my wont
Eternal companion of the forever sky?
Alas ! It flickered bright then died out.

Breathless, dizzying. A pain there. Ouch ! Why do my feet hurt? Pebbles ! This climbing to the top. Narrow, could it be any worse? Oxygen, so abruptly scarce. Darkness, pierces the gleaming light. What's that sound? Shussh, merry people alight. Laughter? But a scared child cries. Melancholy? This ascent to the top. The views? Absurd and surreal torpor. The top. Finally, I have arrived. Yet, Desolate. Fearful. Impending doom. Sandals, where are my sandals? I feel unclad. This outrageous wind, cutting me up. Dissected, operated. An angst is born. Go away, not today. An escape ensues. Haste, a quick descent. As my sandals call. And I beckon, and I beckon. 👣

Oh, how forgiven are we in death,
A price to pay, in the loss of life.
Oh, how unloved when we reside
Yet remembered so little, as we die
Living on in memories, of a few
That had, in life.. subtly touched us
And then cease to be, immaterial
Like many a soul has, before us.
Tragedy is when.. misunderstood,
And never were they, ever heard.
Tragic lives, and disavowed care,
And never was a beautiful word,
Catered to them, in their winter fair.
Do them a favour, and heed 'em well
As they .. in flesh, still breathe in air.
Do not,  please cry out in penitence,
And don their graves in flowers, rare.

I was burnt to the core,
In the seething sun's fire.
There was ash all across
Aloft eccentricities' desire.
Sprawling nebulae of blue,
Lasting more than a flicker.
It was light years, I flew,
Mad lust, none did figure.
Fierce love for the ball
And the fire in it raging.
As I crashed at my fall,
Just to rise as an aching.
Blackened coal, elemental
Ashen gray, smeared rife.
Thus I ran, and fell waning
And wax, till exited ..  life.

Can I rest now?
Spend the evening tracing roots
Try to grasp the awe i.e Poe
Doyle & Christie's original truth
Can I revere now?
At a genius' mind of old
While Chopin fills the backdrop
With his beautiful tones
Can I withdraw now?
From all the noise there is,
From all the ire there is,
From all the strife there is.
Can I just get lost?
For this moment that slithers,
For a retreat not far away,
To events not common today.
Go on what's stopping you?

I have always felt so small ..
A ignoble blob of mass produced ****
An unstriking felt of ignoreable mass
And a unloving yet existing demonicon

What is this being that within me resides
This parenchymatous growth of emotions
This feeling, perceiving but never believing
Mass of substance that I am, that I may be
Or may be not.

Just a small nothingness of some being
Incapable of making it out intoto

Small, meek, not dangerous piece of nothing.

What shall it matter if I lose my form?

What shall it matter if I lose myself ?

Death, disintegration, entropy !!

Whichever word may you give it,
nothing does ever matter in the end
nothing ever comes right off it ..

Nothing, and then black.

Pitch. Dark. Bleakness.

Out by thy window to Hope
Thou seest, but the green sigh.
Hope for all other life shimmer,
As dark black consumes thy nigh.

Yet, thou resort to vile tirade, for
Samekind breathing thy exhaled air,
In knowledge, indictment just a mirage.
The anger merely reflection of a fear.

Do thee then, think in retrospect ?
Or do then, prospectively act ?
What shall be thy salvation ?
When thou deny, what is but fact !

Killing thy way to the top, Human.
Death ,destruction; ever on thy mind.
Why then do thee hope for revelation ?
To thy fellow never, thou were kind !

Ignominious downfall imminent,
Epiphany written on the wall !
It takes a toll to be sentient,
As thy numbers grow; to fall !

Nature can sustain only so much,
Thy ignorance, avarice as vile.
Preparedness never for this coming,
A war against all you did defile! Yet,

May thee rise from ashes, resurrected.
Sustenance, compassion_ thine aim !
All is not lost, if thou realise this,
Viirtuousity: thy only saving dame !

It takes very little to
Make people feel loved
Many of us do not try, yet
A few others make it a point
To not let go of an opportunity
To let others know and feel
In their own small ways
That they are loved
And cherished

I thought
I was alone
With these beliefs
Though now, my dear
Because of you
I know better.

All great minds have been called insane .. Superfluous indulgence in petty day's gossip is not where human consciousness is supposed to find it's grave_Indeed ! They know not .. the beauty of the other side ..A place not easily accessible ... A bridge not visible.. The ladder too steep .. Or maybe hidden in plain sight !They see not ! They care not !
They just continue in their petty herds !
Of everyday groceries !
And predictable backbitchings !
How shallow, how very shallow !