The Snake

Her beautiful face covered in mud,
As she writhed in pain, screaming,
A pain, she couldn't feel, but it ate her,
Ate her inside, the pain of fear.

She coiled on my hand, hissing,
Tightened her grip, never to lose me,
I felt her heart beat faster, as she slipped,
Slipped away into a hole, A safegaurd.

I watched her slip through the hole,
The poison as it ran through my veins,
I felt my heart beat faster, and then numbness,
The two punctures, as it showed through my skin.

I never asked her, why she hated me,
I never asked her, why she disliked me,
I knew fear was all she had, when her teeth sunk.
For she was afraid of me, and me afraid of her.

Stars Among the Strays

With her little hands, she paints a happy face

The sun was hot, burning bright,
Sweaty, sticky, turned the red light,
I waited, cursing the man in front,

I waited, under the sun that burnt.

Half a minute past, I stayed at the juncture,
When a little hand, crawled up to a tap,
I looked and two little eyes looked back,
The strays of the land they did their tricks.

A small hoop-a-loop, and she starts her trick,
A small drum, the boy beats the brick.
They jump and loop through, at work or play,
Then the small hands come up for the alms.

I did feel a little pinch, she is a kid, said my heart,
I put my hands in my little purse, to pay,
But alas the driver won't stop, nor would he care,
As half a minute later green comes up on the fair.

Happiness

Typing this thing out, is the easiest way, through which I can get rid of the craving that is slowly and slowly pushing my brain, to think that it exists outside my body. Yesterday was a colorful day, with the trees being green, birds being yellow ( well I don't know how birds look like) and flowers being multi colored, and out of the blue I needed a porcupine, which actually led into a real bad mess (no wonder these animals are protected under law). Things turned out to be so ugly, that I thought it was time for my real half to disappear, and he did so and now I am stuck up here with half a brain typing this out.

So coming to the point, yesterday I was totally kicked around with a volley of fancy words, which were supposed to define the being I am, well my usual answer was "I don't care", but somehow deep within me, I did say "Please can you stop it, you are hurting me". Then there was this little pointing out where the person concerned said, "You are one f***ed up mind. Even an average boy is happier and merrier than you.", well I wanted to ask, "Define happiness dude!!"

That got me thinking, and thinking, and thinking. What exactly is happiness? I tried Mr Google for it, and he gave me a good and satisfiable answer

"Happiness is a state of mind or feeling characterized by contentment, love, satisfaction, pleasure, or joy."
I should be happy according to the definition, I am happy with my life, except for may be an occasional mood swing, which can't be helped. I feel love, I feel pleasure, and I feel joy. So according to the dictionary I am happy, but still why would he say that I am not happy.
The only possible reason I could figure out was because I only shared the sad feelings I had in my life with him, the happy feelings were reserved to my own being.

So as Mr Shakespeare once said, "All is well that ends well", I hope this phase just ends up properly.


Look at the stars, as they shine bright,

Each one its own master, its own slave,

Look at the lone flower that blossoms by,
Under the sun, its happy, it withers, dies

The river flows, alone through the land,
To join a bigger family, underneath the sand.

So why does the world say happiness is lost,
For its just a hands reach away from life.

The Violet Sky

I am afraid of the calm after the storm

One fine evening, under an orange sky,
I sat with her, her hands in mine,
Looking at the sky, and the setting sun,
I sat there, looking in her eye.

It was calm, and the peace stayed on,
No words were spoken, but eyes said it all,
A fear lurked within me, as the grey crept in,
For it was the calm before the storm.

The orange of the sky was lost,
And the grey of the storm took hold,
Slowly breaking the strong bonds of love.
And soon the storm was upon us.

The eyes said it all, and tears held the words,
Silence spoke loud, in the sad shades of grey
The storm ragged, as from me she was torn apart.
Never to return, she said, for the storm to depart.

The storm subsided, but from me she was gone,
A violet haze poisoned the sky, as the calm returned,
A painful calm where no words would ever be spoken,
Or is it a calm before another storm sings aloud.

Reasons - 2

Its been long since I actually wrote something sensible in this blog, ( well apart from the regular poetic explosions of fear and anxiety ). Today was a day I actually ( when I say actually I mean it this time :P ) tried to understand the reasons behind my screwed-up existence. I have had dreams where I was as normal as others were, where I could talk normal things. Think normally. Fall in love, have some one, who holds my hand and walks with me when I am down. Well these were just perfect examples of a perfect life.
Something happened, something which made me believe that there was no turning back, there was no returning from what I am, but as usual- "Who gives a F***". I hate it like this, I hate the reason of my existence, and everything linked to me. Thanks to a handful of people, I still breath ( not fresh air though :D ), I just wish I had a time machine, but well people would have missed "me" then.


I knew a man with no face,

No face to remember by.
I knew a memory with no name,
No name to recall it by.

The night was in its youth,
When two hands touched,
The night was in its death bed,
When the dreams were shattered.

So I stand tall, to protect my dreams,
And to do what is best for me,
So I stand up against all fears,
But still the night crushes me down.

I knew a man with no face,
Because I choose to forget,
I knew a memory with no name,
Because I hated to recall it.

Fathom

You will burn in your innocence when the world steals your smile

She waits under a sunburned sky, a woman in her primes,
Waiting for the day to dawn, to wake her up from her denial.

He would come, she says, but little does she know,
That despair is his only pride, and death his bride.

A long lost war, a shielded window of shattered faith,
Now she waits for her man to come, to save her from her fate.

Gods would show me favour, and let me be one with him,
But oh great sea, why did you steal his soul from me.

Is it madness that counts, or the love that kills,
For she stood there thousands of days, waiting for him still.

He won't come, the village echoed, crushing the last piece of hope,
He won't come, for he is one with death, sang the multitude aloud.

By the sea she stood, but why did you take him from me,
For an aching heart you have given me, and an eye devoid of tears.

Ages passed and soon the village forgot, forgot about the woman,
Until one sunny day, she came home, huddled in a casket of her own.

The Walking Stick

A sunny sky to mark my day,
I strolled along, alone, and bored,
The park was lively, with birds chirping,
Dogs barking, and fish swimming.

A tree swayed, and a sparrow flew away,
Up soared the eagle, to catch its prey,
So on such a sunny day, I strolled,
Alone and bored, nothing to do.

At a distance I saw a boy, a kid of my age,
Play with his dog, as his grand old man,
Aged with wisdom, wrinkled with love,
Sat by the tree, and watched him play.

Next to him lay, his walking stick,
Wood of the same tree, or so I presumed,
To support him, till he made peace,
Till he lays down his worries and leaves.

The kid played along, urging his old man,
To play with him, to throw a ball or two,
The old man did budge, stood up to play,
But his weak legs wouldn't let him stay.

So he picked up his walking stick,
To play with his little kid,
Something struck me at this point,
And for long did I lose myself to thoughts.

The walking stick had become a part of him,
A part he cherished and lived.
A part which would never leave his side,
I wish I had a walking stick too like him.