To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

Let me explain.
This poem is about sleeping, dreaming,
the failure of my inadequacies in poetry to heal.

Three years after its birth, it is exactly what I am feeling this day.
It is long rambling and you won't stay for the whole movie.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erudition is perdition,
dreaming in words, accursed,
death to the visionaries,
release from visitations
of over-staying, unwelcome guests,
Johnny Cash, Jesus,
Forefather Jacob, Bobby Dylan
and their whiny,
smug-smiled missives
on behalf of the
all knowing, dream invader powers,
who
just-happens-to-be-know-it-alls.

These guys,
sub rosa angels,
electioneering,
hand shaking  
you into dreams
that make you wonder              
unceasingly  

I have renounced chants n'
dreams that
wander                              
meaninglessly

so if there is no
repeal of the stupification
of the human condition,
just invent words that  fool
willful and mostly please
nobody

don't ask and don't tell,
then we can agree
that a life,
its peculiar
Hallmark Card of grief,
cannot be
disambiguated

yours is yours,
different from mine,
single poems cannot solve
multivariate equations,  
un-blow mind sensations
that circumnavigate my mind    
as I edge along the
borderline tween the
United States of self-realization,
and a State of Mexico
drug-induced, seductive and
self-administered pat down,
a colorless, tasteless, dreamless
evening in the company of
a rest-once-and-for-all,
sleeping pill

Repudiate yourself,  
privately you
hyperventilate,
but others willing to borrow
those surfeit of rapid
misunderstood breathes,
stored in brown paper bags,
that will be divided
most ingeniously by the
Misappropriation Committee
for wordy oxygen tanks,
desperate for refilling

Recant, Renege,
Renounce, Repeal,
Repudiate, Retract,
I herby foreswear
all previous poems, please
Return them

Back, send them,
so, I can end them,
desist any new arrival of vaniloquence,
direct 'em to  the trash box of inconsequence

My wrongful w-rightings
are now cashiered,
my cool is in mourning,
my plateau is flat but
upsided downded,
words drownded,
both sides now, spring silent

Tried to swim to safety,
to Spanish Harlem
but no hablo espanol,

In Miami, they done me in
for the crime of
insufficiently thin,

In Ghiradelli Square
they deemed me too blond
not 'ciscan enough
yet, in Frisco fairness,  
done deported me,
making me to choose
tween Los Angeles and/or
Orange County

So, poet poseur, where you gonna run too?

My better half sleeps,
my left half weeps,
so conditions normal.

Satan laughs,
offers me ***** or poetry,
knowing full well that having
foresworn, addictive wordmongering, liscentiousness
that a single letter
would stupor me into a
drunken poetry slam at
St. Paul's Church,
into Satan's collection box
of wordy sinners,
where lost souls, ex-poets,
prevaricate
vainly, in hopes
that anyone will let them
transubstantiate
in order to avoid their
expiration date
on Stub Hub

surrendered the master key,
turned in my ID badge,
opened inner sanctum no more,
poetry boy is ratiocinated,
peril dispatched, swear that I've
excommunicated the voices
determined to disintermediate

the compromise I've reached,
help is contraindicated,
ex-officio is my new grace state

please, devices decontaminate,
otherwise, poems disintegrate,
excoriate them, don't wait,
to disassociate'em, insufficient,
remove them from hard drives,
yank'em one and all!

let the diet begin,
no more food for thought,
no more dreams
wrought and recorded,
permit the ambient calm
of the still of the night
that engulfs,
to harmonize with the flatline
dreamless sleep that the
mind monitor machine
etchingly, quietly records

let hours of research
be rewarded,
by my imbibing the product of
laboratory pharmacological
fine tuning

***** S.,
what outrageous ego
let me suppose that in
mine own words,
I could improve upon
your lovelies,
with now bland homilies,
recitations of my anomalies

What id sexed my brain,
was I completely insane,
to imagine that I could
improve upon:

"and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the
thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to,
'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd.
To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream:
ay, there's the rub"

Finished: Nov 27, 2010 4:44 AM

Refreshment, in form king size bed
Big fluffy pillows, sink disheveled head
Silken other body touching beside
Night's dreamless comfort, into it did glide

How exist delusion, tranquil pie in sky
Consulting limbs, spooning of thighs
Imprecise discoveries, feeling more at ease
Theories both wound in bed, confidently pleased

the hundred year old stairs
wakes up from its dreamless slumber
to find the world has spun
for an infinity too long

it once roamed
and ruled
the household of Chathanathodi
making way to the rooms
upstairs
that conspired a thousand
whispered secrets

simultaneously
sprawling its termite-infested legs
to make way
downstairs
that injected an aura of
omnipotence

its laddery body was now a little chipped
and its creaky joints, a little shaky
but it didn't matter
as it was still conspicuous
and strong
like Hercules
leading unsuspecting mortals
upstairs and downstairs
to its universe of Gods

Shalini Nayar
© 2001

2 AM and I lie awake,
thinking as the time goes by,
yet another wakeful sleepless night.
I dream of ghosts and wake-up screaming,
tears in my eyes
yet another wakeful sleepless night.
I want to go in dreamless slumber,
when will I get that I wonder
yet another wakeful sleepless night.
I have my troubles and my mind a rubble,
and at 2 AM I lie awake,
thinking as the time goes by,
yet another wakeful sleepless night.

I am tired;
tired of waking, tired of sleeping,
tired of crying, tired of holding back tears,
tired of breathing, tired of holding my breath,
tired of working hard, tired of being lazy,
tired of living, tired of dying,
tired of love, tired of hate,
tired of dreams, tired of dreamless nights,
tired of thoughts, tired of blankness of mind,
tired.

between the breaths, the boredom, the blues, the *****
the smokes, the sacrifices, the smiles, the sadness, the snooze
the poems, the problems, the pros and the cons
the needles, the nobodies, the neurotics, the loose
the careless, the fearless, the dreamless, who knows
the tulip, the lilac, the jasmine, the rose
the suns, the moons, the earth, the birth
the nights, the fights, the lies arise
the loneliness
among the hate, the fate, the date delayed
the loneliness
along the tongue, a song, wrong, wrong
the loneliness
inside the heart, a part apart, from the start
the loneliness, the loneliness, the loneliness...

"and the crowd, so many people,
and the cries, the laughs, the whispers...
Too many mouths talking in my ear, my left ear
Is it the chaos of unphysical presences ?
But I touch them, I see them, I hear them...
And nobody is here" -- Myra


-- Watercolour

Where do the dreamless go?
Do they just drift away,
Does the universe just shrug,
As if to say,
Goodbye, John,
...see you a neverday.

Or rather, worse profoundly,
To see them stagnate contently,
in the half-real mundane.

The routine of grey,
and the blue-collar,
quarter-happy grin.

It speaks much louder now,
than in any once lit din,
where your eyes sparkled with dreams,
today long forgotten.

Oh tomorrow is today,
and every day since.
In the minds of the dreamless,
with no goal forth wince.

The Kraken

by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Below the thunders of the upper deep;
Far far beneath in the abysmal sea,
His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep
The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee
About his shadowy sides; above him swell
Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;
And far away into the sickly light,
From many a wondrous grot and secret cell
Unnumber'd and enormous polypi
Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green.
There hath he lain for ages, and will lie
Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
Then once by man and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.

Flabbergasted, the whale wails
Lonely upon the sea drifting ever apart
A sole ****** raises his tired sails
Forever trapped in solitary solace

Winds warping the canvas
While ominous clouds encroach
The salty breeze stinging his taste
A bitterness within the calm

Peace drowns with the fury
That the storm has yet to bring
Fear not, creature of the sea
The troublesome life is far from over

Another night trashing about
The rock and the roll of the bow
A lullaby to a tired soul
Slowly rocking to dreamless sleep

Phases of faces, captured moments and instances
I pass by, so swiftly, so fleetingly
Caught in the crossroads of paradigms and decisions
I stood paralyzed, terrified.

I meet intense eyes that bore through me, knowing me, knowing us
A smile as warm as the sun that has the power to melt me
Your presence is strong, comforting…strong, unsettling…strong, terrifying
You have me without even trying, you mesmerize me.

You bring me to my knees with a sigh,
you can crush me with a word.
You can bring me to bliss with a touch,
you can bring me to ecstasy with a kiss.

You command me with a whisper, I am drawn to you
You break down my china walls, one by one
You undress my layers of failed expectations
Of shattered dreams, and broken hearts

I stand before you, naked, vulnerable
I look away, not bearing for you to see
My helplessness, my hopelessness
All my imperfections, my fears, my desires.

You wipe my tears away, and kiss my bitterness away
And yet the fear descends on me…I’ve been here before
Fear of hurt, of betrayal, of disappointment
Fear that this is all an illusion…or perhaps just my delusion

And so I put on a smile, cool and composed
Hide behind my fast-paced life, run far away from you
Going so fast, so fast…so I won’t think, I won’t feel
Until I fall, exhausted, to sleep a dreamless sleep

I need the noise, the meaningless clanging
For in silence, the longing creeps in…
To be in your arms, just us and nothing else…
Nothing but warmth and the sound of our hearts beating.

So I welcome the numbness, welcome the pain
Punish myself for the choice I’ve made in my weakness
Someday I will find my happiness, someday I will find my strength
Somehow…I will find you again.

The scent of defeat oozes from my pores
as I lay there motionless and satisfied
My toes are tingling as your hand rests on my hip
My thoughts blank as my mind rests on your heart
What does it feel? What can't you see?

I lay my head upon your chest and assume you imagine it's not me
You see my hair as brown and my heart hopefully unscathed
Am I a filler or a plug, that doesn't let your heart wash down the drain?
Why can't you see me?

My eyes pierce your soul and you look at me like a blank slate
Not worth the time to make something of, yet too scared to throw me away.
My anxious reality won't let you go- what if tomorrow you see me?

I told myself I wouldn't surrender to your breath against the blade of my shoulder,
or the trace of your fingers just above my knee,
but I did
The scent of defeat oozes from the quaking warm shiver you sent through my body
As my eyes gently close and approach a dreamless sleep I pray.
*see me, finally see me

Motet: an unaccompanied choral composition with sacred lyrics; originated in the 13th century.  Suggestion: look up on YouTube, the Hilliard Ensemble.*  Jewish tradition says that there are 36 righteous souls on Earth, whom for their sake, God preserves the planet and its inhabitants.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Motet II

August 2013

Last night,
I lay with God,
Again.

We made love inimitable,
As if it were the first time.
The music of purity, voices ensemble,
The only commonality.

Afterwards, heaving, sweaty, in bed,
He reminded me that I had already
Written of the motet, long ago,
But permission granted to
Love it, write of it, once more,
As I He, and He, me...

Because after-all, the motet prayers belong to Him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Motet

Nov. 2010

Ce soir, I am prepared, My Love,
hopeful of being worthy,
diminished before all,
rendered and prepared,
transported and train-spotted,
prostrate and yet risen.

The motek-sweet motet wings me
heavenward to more than relief.
Grace, grace, I am both,
becoming and becalmed,
drowned and delighted,
entwined and unwound,
compost but composed,
invaded and imbued.

These voices doth
wrack my fibers,
seethe and contract,
my internal power plant
implodes, heart attack.

Glorious generations of singers,
O woven voices that harmonize,
your motet is
umbilical to my lyrical,  
calming chemical reaction,
I am servant and
you are my server,
uplift, calm and provoke me.

Sing out loud God's
ephemeral, unpronounceable name,
cover me with the fame
of His naturity,
love me with divine kisses,
release unto and within me
the essential oils,
oils by which we breathe,
ancestorally transfused,
oils once called the
blood of the soul.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In my past harmonies of poesy,
you shared, lost or just deleted,
tribute unto tribulations human:

I recorded, ven diagrammed,
sorrowed tales of souls waylaid,
debts foreclosed, dues unpaid,
tales of non-fictional agonistes,
suffering a tutti frutti of sarcastic
Earthly  Delights.

Wrote writs re some poor souls,
Prado preserved,
by threading and dying,
on a cloistered tapestry
woven by Adonai worshipers.

With those selfsame oils,
they painted anticipated memories of
Heaven and Hell,
the ones of which I write,
far too oft.

But this night,
In my customary hour
when inspiration is my only tongue,
in the lean hours after midnight,
afore dawn's orangerie of
morning skyed break fast,
I am risen, nourished and
uplifted by the motet's synthesis,
by what I hope to see,
by what I wish to hear.

For I watch,
porched and perched on rooftop,
in the company of
urban spelunkers and debunkers,
all of us desperados,
differing reasons for despair,
yet together,
a human minion-minyan of ten,
we search Jerusalem,
from the Battery to the Cloisters
for glimpses, hints of human angels,
the thirty six^
ministering to the
homeless and dreamless,
to us all.*

Ce soir, I am prepared,
hopeful of being worthy,
diminished before all,
rendered and prepared,
transported and train-spotted,
prostrate and yet risen,
the motek-sweet motet wings me
heavenward to more than relief.

Grace, grace, I am both,
becoming and becalmed,
drowned and delighted,
entwined and unwound,
compost but composed,
invaded and imbued.

Reveal, reveal to me the identity
of your ministering angels!

As the thirty six preserve me,
motet me on eagle's wings, and
return us to you Lord,
that we may be returned.

Renew our days,
as they were before,
when the motet
was bright, organic,
in each of us.






----------------------------------------
^www.neveh.org­/winston/wonder36/36-08.html

You’d like if I was a rock,
You want me to act all hard
Not capable of shock,
Stable, strong, and without scars

I’m not that heavy
I’m not even tethered
To the ground beneath my feet
Instead I fly like a feather

Fly like a feather,
Up in the sky
Falling victim to the weather
Yeah all day and night, I fly like a feather
Fly like a feather

We all get caught up
In various places
Wearing various faces
Inside various races
Racing to the day
When we finally come face to face
With what we want until we have it
And we wear it as a bracelet
But once you get the bracelet,
Soon you’ll want the necklace
And soon you’ll have a checklist
And soon you’ll go out reckless
And drop all that you have
Until you get the cracked message
That your enemies are headless
Fallen victim to your leverage.
Can I get a beverage?
I’m way too thirsty
I’m a feather in a whirlwind
And all of this wind is whirling
I don’t know what I want
And I want what I can’t control
And I’m admitting it, for once,
That I have many shallow goals
And all of my real goals
Don’t really reach to my soul
I have this beautiful life I stole
Smiling faces, honor role,
But when I’m faced with a storm
Of someone whose wonder I can’t code
Then my mind short circuits
And it’s stuck on flying and rolling

Like a feather
Up in the sky
Falling victim to the weather
Yeah all day and all night, I fly like a feather
Like a feather

What everybody wants from me,
Would that make my life so much better?
Should I try to soak up some water
To make myself a bit wetter
So I can shiver and die
In this cold harsh reality
Instead of daring to keep flying
To keep everyone else without me?
I’m doubting my reasons
My instinctive seasons
That command, keep marching
That command keep bleeding
Out your heart, mind, and soul
Even though it’s so shallow
But sometimes shallow runs deep
When your mind stuck in the shadow
Of your dreams, dreams manipulated by hormones
I’m stuck in fantasies of wanting to not be alone
But there’s attraction involved
And my problem is not solved
Should I go for what I want
Or leave this issue unresolved?
Well, I tried pursuing girls, twice I succeeded
But to sum it up mildly,
My progress was deleted
And my good intentions,
Well, those were defeated
And I got what I deserved
Because I’m chuck full of weakness.
Dreamless, I moved back to isolation
Where I was told how to act
And told to just be patient
But I’m not a monk
And I’m not yet muted
So when I meet a cute girl
My final thesis is proven,

I just fly like a feather
Up in the sky
Falling victim to the weather
Yeah, all day and all night I fly like a feather
I fly like a light feather

What’s better,
Acting normal until you and me are together
Or expressing myself explicitly and making you not get hurt
By showing you how I’m thirsty
Sending texts and writing letters?
Let me know what you prefer
Don’t make this choice subjective.
I’m in your storm, I’m moved by your beauty
It’s the rain and the wind,
The appearance and intelligence
I want this and I turn you away
I can’t escape, I love every day
In my mind there’s nothing,
But there’s so much to say
I don’t think when you fly me,
You just whisk me away
And I’m never worried here
In this storm, this blessing,
Why are my words smart?
Why are my words jesting?
Is this manipulation,
Am I treating you right?
Can I ask more questions
Is this the day before the night?
Is this the light to the dark,
The storm before the calmness
Of the upcoming loneliness
I’ll feel when you don’t return my call?
When your storm stops and never comes again at all?
Well, like, I said, I might want to be a stone,
So once your storm’s done, fine,
I’ll be a feather alone
Until again I’m a feather blown
So light, so free,
So without any control
This is all I’ll ever be!

I fly like a feather
Up in the sky
Falling victim to the weather
All day and all night I fly like a feather
Fly like a feather

I wish we could be together
Up in the sky
Having love, making weather
All day and all night, whether wrong or whether right,
I fly like a feather

i remember when my mama took me up the mountain,
she told me,
"now, you are ready."
and pine and oak softly fluttered their leaves at my arrival.
there were yellow flowers,
growing wildly,
strangling the delicate blue blossoms,
made of flimsy roots and spindly bosoms.

i was the youngest in a tribe of
golden skinned people;
dreadlocks, tattoos,
moon cycles on the sides of their eyes,
and hair like cattails whispering in the dark.

with my stomach churning,
i entered the tall, dimly lit tepee.
the medicine man sat churning the ashes
in an empty fire-pit,
and women stood around me scattering
flower petals like
soft skin
all over the red-dirt earth.

his eyes twinkled,
and told me things that he would only let the
dusk unfold.
i took my seat on a white sheep-skin,
settling myself.

as the night grew older,
the fire grew larger,
shapes elongated on the fair skin of the stretched
tepee,
the flames dancing wildly,
smoke drifting up into the
starry dark.

the fire keeper stoked the raging
yellow and orange tongues,
and the medicine man sat with a bandanna on,
his waterfall nose moving,
and his leather brown skin creaking,
as he told us stories of the sacred medicine.

and we sat,
somebody started singing.
my mothers warm frame was close to mine,
and my step-father next to her,
shoulders touching in the close proximity,
intimate, smoky air.

they beat the deer-skin drum,
badum badum *** badum badum ***
in native languages like
roaring rivers,
they sang songs to the medicine,
for the opening of the heart;
their swift and strong voices
rising like smoke and flame.

when the drum was passed to me,
i didn't know any songs,
wasn't aware that i had to know any.
i started to hit the drum with the padded
stick, and
closed my eyes,
feeling the sticky sweat of my perspiring forehead
drip down upon my licked lips,
tasting of wood and dirt.
i sang something lilting
sounds coming from the deepest
crevices of my throat,
being gently pulled from the grasp of my ribs.

the medicine man put pine on the fire,
it sizzled and breath was filled with
sweet and sharp.

when the air was right, and
the night was thick with song,
he uncovered baskets of small,
green and ridged fruit-like shapes.
"buttons,"

the medicine was taking her form, and was cradled
as a native man took it around the circle,
along with oranges.
i'd find out soon why.

i took two, small and light in my fingers.
i closed my eyes and took the first bite.

my mouth was struck, eroding teeth
and erupting tongue
my face contorted from the bitter juices the small fruit
held within its delicate skin,
my stomach churned and i swallowed it down
biting into the orange, skin and all
begging for a shock of zest to take
down the intense flesh of the medicine.

i looked around,
some people were on their third, fourth.
the beat of the drums was constant,
along with the quiet,
restful crackle of the sighing fire.

the second bite was less of a surprise,
and i finished my first one.

it was only at the third bite of the second button
that my stomach refused to go any more without
heaving,
the astringent juices of the
small fruit working its magic on my stomach.

i closed my eyes and embraced what was around me;
slowly swaying in the deep voices of my
family,
mi familia,
'ohana,
and the heartbeat of the
mountain drums.

soon, i felt weary.
my mother rested her hand like falling rain on my shoulder,
and i lay in the warm arms of her
shawls,
twisting around me like snakes.

a traditional rollie was passed around,
made of corn husk and hand grown tobacco.
my eyes grew slow and drooping,
and i fell into the waiting arms of sleep
while listening to the music of
tobacco and wood smoke, hushed voices,
wilting night,
dancing fire, and alive laughter.

my sleep was deep and dreamless,
my body carried to other places by the medicine,
leaving my mind behind.

i woke to rough feet on the red dirt,
and my mother and father intertwined like red roses,
sleeping below the tepee's watch,
my mothers white skirt fanning out like
soft sheets in the summer
walls.

there were goodmorning smiles,
light spreading from one set of a skin to another,
as my family embraced me,
told me they were proud and grateful to me
for sitting with them.

a bowl of chocolate was passed around, along with a crate
of juicy, pink, dawn touched strawberries.
i dipped them in the dark, sweet and rich paste
and one after another,
felt myself expand into the universe even more.
only when my mother awoke,
to sprinkling flowers,
and lifted sky,
she told me that the chocolate held the medicine too.

i made my way across swaying, long grass,
and sat in the sun, sipping tea with a sliced lemon,
making art with twists and curls of my pencils and pens,
listening to the experiences of last night,
the enlightenment,
the sense of overwhelming love,
that was not quite drowning.

i basked in everything,
let the heat soak into my flesh,
the lilting laugh.
somebody handed me a guitar,
and i sang with my chocolate tinted lips,
and let my voice float within and around the mountain,
filling the tepee and the empty fire pit
once more,
with the sweet and bitter tastes of
the medicine
*peyote.

Greenish hills and alice blue skies
whimsical faeries wander along the timberlands
play hide and seek around pine groves
brimming the atmosphere with liquid of blithe.

a pair of cerulean eyes glitter under a lucid sun,
and reflected a thousand rainbows.
the feet you danced, headed forth to the ethereal grounds.
in those fleecy palms held a bouquet of fresh peonies.
as the wind huffs and grins, the fruit trees leafs begin to compose
as if in an orchestra house.
around my body flew a rabble of butterflies, your psyche is surreal.

"You came back"
I grasp to his muscular limbs, to fracture and to feel with seraphic love.

By the night the archaic moon hangs, all my dreamless night pulverized.
gory scenarios in my brain surrendered for an escape.

My heart pumps, my collarbones shrieks,
on our old bed, up-down, up-down, in-out, in-out....
"ah." the hue of a merry-go-round.


As the summer reborn, the reality seizes..
                    our love is immortal without a fullstop

-l.r

I havent had a good shower
in a week.
or washed my ****-reeking
clothes in
three. the electricity
and gas are shut off.
there's no beer or *** but
I don't think the cats have noticed.
mid June and it's already starting
to push 90.
before long the water will evaporate
right out of your bathtub,
taking you and half the house
with it.
sleep is dreamless, just a quick cut-
to an unwakeful day.
all my time energy and money
spent working a job i dont
give two ***** about
(maybe 0.7 *****)
or helping others.
I haven't gotten a **** in months.
if this is the path to enlightenment
you can take nirvana
and shove it up your ***.

You shut your eye lids and are transported into a different world, like flipping a switch, pulling a lever. Hours will pass by in my realm, but to you, galaxies swarm behind closed windows. To you, it will be moments before you awake again, if your slumber is dreamless.

If you dream I hope you dream of a world far away from here, but I hope you bring me along. And we can dance on the rings of Saturn, fly through Jupiter's core, and drink the sweet nectar of the Milky Way. Because when I am with you I hold my universe in my arms. I might never explore all of you, for you are vast, deep, complex. But I hope I can do more than scrap the surface. I hope I can dive into you and get lost in the Andromeda galaxy and loop around Orion's belt. I hope I can become so tangled that I cannot tell where you start and I begin unless I pay close attention. But I have ADD so expect me to wander.

Baby, while you sleep and galaxies pass behind your eyes I hope I can watch and fall into time with the rise and fall of your lungs and the drum of your heart. I hope we synchronize into our own awkward rhythmic beat like none other. To fall asleep to the music of your snores, subtle whispers that leak from your mouth, and the twitches your body will make life sublime.

While you are in a different world I will be right here, awaiting for your return to Earth.

I'm right
on top of
things can't
you see it?

Oh! It's Friday
the 13th?
Thanks Cné.

I'm right
on top of
it, just -- just
trust me!

(An ounce of ****
per week and sleep,
dreamless sleep.)

I'm up
to date on
razor
pop culture.

Oh! It's August
isn't it? Sep - tem
- ber. That's

what I meant.

(An ounce of ****
per week and sleep,
dreamless sleep.)

   Why can't I live like
Oliver Tree?

(An ounce of ****
per week and sleep,
dreamless sleep.)

   Why can't I live like
Die Antwoord?

(An ounce of ****
per week and sleep,
dreamless sleep.)

   Why can't I live like
Mr. Rogen?

LOL

If you willingly forgo the possibilities of nights
why, feel sad and lament for not having dreams?
find a life of fun easily without any dream-
there are millions around never dared to dream!
don't make guilt demand, a disproportionate price from you,
The city night, regales us  in the flood of artificial lights,
eradicating  the distracting dreams  once and for all,
all through night digital advertisements
blink and die continuously till the morning light appears.
when a  day dies out, on earlier times, a night would begin,
now at the end of the day, night too  dies , in the flood of lights.
why make futile dreams, that wouldn't deliver anything,
make your dreams fishes in show ponds that swims at night.
On the dry ears of sleepless in cities,
music from radio  demands attention,
still solidified sleep, with the wings of darkness
sit on the night trees,
no sleep, no dreams, no secrets, what a happiness!!

the speakers of the personal computers of girls
celebrated, sleeplessness with fanfare
then boys and girls danced out of some instinct.
Night stood sad at the corners of sky...

This one I will refuse to destroy me,
Pick me up, toss me out and leave me in the morning;
The loneliness that echoes inside sets her free.

Spare the delicate moment of bliss or ecstasy
When day comes, abandon hope and leave me in the mourning
This one I will refuse to destroy me.

Dawn awakens the oblivion- the disillusioned fairy
Passionate sunlight erupts the stillness of dreamless dreaming,
The loneliness that echoes inside sets her free.

As the fire licks at the mountainside, leaving behind its vengeful debris,
Last night ignited this hateful inferno you are afflicting
This one I will refuse to destroy me.

Thunderbolt! Durga cast down the Depraved one, while he
Creeps into the naked night like a coward: fleeing,
The loneliness that echoes inside sets her free.

Tangled beneath sheets and limbs of a parted sea
It was only with your blind eyes you left, haunting
This one I will refuse to destroy me,
The loneliness that echoes inside sets her free.

The night is tiresome
to the sleepless ones
with thoughts racing
without a finish line

Insomnia can be fearsome
carrying loaded guns
that leaves the mind pacing
wasting precious time

The dreamless can't succumb
to the whispers of the Ones
that send the tired bracing
for the bright sun's shine

An Insomniac, I've become
the nights feeling like reruns
while my pillow I am embracing
until my alarm-clock's chime

I have not known love
Not known the stars
The moon and the sun
And warmth and all the
Petals that blossomed inside
Every particle of my heart
I had barely known words
And I had barely known the dark

I dwelled within the dreamless
Sinking into the abyss
Dragged down by merciless
Invisible hands of fear
Senseless guilty, and
The threat of life
That clutched my throat
And crushed my being
With an abundance of
Things that are not mine
In a bet against an abundance  
Of unfulfilled desires
I was suffocating
At the fringe of madness
And pleaded for a fall
Of complete non-existence
To be forgotten
To be lost
Till I can no longer remember
Myself, till I was never here at all
Till there was no life, breath, and
Darkness

Until the spark
The flash of dim light
That flickered in an instance
Across your eyes
Like a passing shadow
Like a spectre at the edge of our sight
Like the illusion of time
And the warmth a dream brings
I cannot no longer be certain
That it was ever there
But, it was the wildfire
That lit up the barren of my soul
And led me out of the cave
And showed me a world within me
That I had wished to known
But had always been so far away

I saw stars within the milk and honey
With, or without, the night and day
I saw tears in every raindrop fallen
With, or without, endless fields or ocean waves
I saw life within your presence
With, or without, the beginning or end of being
I saw darkness within your absence
With, or without, a maelstrom, or life’s grace

As long as you were there
I was no longer the bitter
Adversary to living
But the greatest friend of life

With you
Time only meant waiting
Eons for a second of your smile

With you
Space only meant coexisting
A second with you for moons of your warmth

Yet, there was not one second
I was not aware that the darkness
The emptiness, the silence
The shadow of your future
Was trailing behind me
Getting closer and closer
Waiting to push me back down the
Bottomless pit of loss
Till I am not just as wretched as before
But completely shattered and extinguished
By the lack of your light

I tried to get to you
Before the abyss got to me
But the desperation of my fear
Frightened you away completely

Like the child and the fireflies
I tried calling you back
With shards of my soul in my palms
And tears falling from my sky
But there was no use
I had to watch you take everything
You brought with you away
I had to watch my world weather away
And the unkempt bitterness
Grow back in haste

Yet, you have not taken everything away
The shards of my soul turned into stars
And the forest of my undying love
Struggling to grow and stay

The tears of my pleas collected into a river
That I sailed on and on heading your way

And although I did not chase back
The light of your fireflies,
I kept every speck of their light
These I turned into words of love
Every day I sent one to you
So that, on your way to your happiness
You’d never stray

I don’t have much of them left
And soon I’ll be silent, dreamless,
Dark and fading away

I see and hope you are content enough
For, I can no longer hold back the silence
Of your crashing waves
I’ll soon be sailing into a place without words
And there
In complete darkness
Beneath a perpetual starless night
Is where
I’ll stay

I am terribly near sighted
Consciously and subconsciously
I see not what I have saw
And
I hear not what I have heard
Sometimes,
In fact most of the time,
I don’t even feel
What I should have felt

But the mirror of life
It keeps a record of every little thing
And I relive in my dreams
All that I have missed

And much much more:

All I ever need
Is just a little hint of life:

Your lovely little smile
I failed to respond to during the day
Would haunt me
With what would seem like
A whole lifetime of sweet champagne
And
Kisses of cherries and grapes
With a scent of longing that
Fills me to the core with
Twinges that burst throughout
My entire being
Shining brightly from
Every single particle of my
Soul

The little chirps and calls of crickets
That alternate between the oblivious
Moon upon a bed of restless stars
And the wizened sun
Would always take me to a land
Unlived, untouched, unruined
A vast nonexistence
A vast ruin full of life
Where I have never been so alone
Yet so fulfilled, so joyful, and so
Free

And

The dreamless gale that
Would raise me up to mountains
From which I can finally gaze down
With sure and confident eyes
Upon the whole of life
And
See, sense, and feel
Every scenery and every being
With the purest of colours
Rowing down the crimson rivers
In a canary boat caressed by
A forest of ocean blue sequoias
Blanketed with a soup of
Violet stars
Into the heart of the universe

Where everything that have lived
Or could have lived
Never went away

Where nothing is ever gone
But just lost
So momentarily
Like a wandering child
Let out into the world
Seemingly defenselessly
Yet, perfectly safe
Under the hidden watch of
The mother

Where everything I love
Love me just as much
And so much more

Where I am never just me
But a child
A poet
A painter
A musician
An ancient pilgrim

Where I can fall into stars
And float up to the edge
Of the sky
Swim in the air without my feet
Ever touching the ground

Where I am finally
Held by you
The one person
I love most unyieldingly
In a death grip of never letting go.