Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Ho Hum

That feeling
is an illusion
and you
a dream.

Sunday, August 20, 2006

The 'Stupidity' Of Running Away

The Yellow House By Vincent Van Gogh

Crystallized Childhood Experience

I take pleasure
in the fact that
I shall live
forever. Each word
spoken immortalized
and each word
written worshipped.
My actions enacted
eternally in plays and
my tomb a congregation
for history's pilgrims.

If only I were not so
unfair to one important
existence of my life, I
would not have asked:
'Does it then matter
if one unfulfilled life
fulfilled so many more?'

Interlude Before Death

"I am alone,"
he said to me.
I linger on to
my life a few
seconds more.
I think of
the future.
I reply
"So am I."

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Anatomy Of A Rainy Day

Its been raining
for a while; life
infested drops
tickling my tongue,
with drainage saliva.
Intermittent
daylight photographing
my wombed floating hair,
in pools of desire.

Thunderclaps rumble
underneath my eyelids;
the rustling noise
of foliage growing red
and green and white.
There is a poem
juggling tomorrow.
Nationality. And other
things. My bed is wet.

Someone must have left
the window open.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Of Mixing Distractions With Deadlines

Two sixty nine seconds.
Waiting at the dinner
table, unable to patiently
drum their myriad fingers,
drink needless gulps
of water or look around
feigning interest.

Because there are wisps
in the air, distracting
reincarnations of time
spent wondering. Nasty
bastards serving themselves
as appetizers dulling
them of hunger.
Two sixty nine seconds.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Optimist

Arms floating
in the crimson sky,
viscous transparent
drops falling from
unseen eyes. Fields
of eyes sky-stranded,
straining to look
down on the floods
that capsize boats,
apartments, empty
rooms and crowded
stores. One pair
winks violet haze
from between
the shuttled window.

The cozy room is
filled, hosted by him.
Entertaining the hopeful
limbs missing in the sky,
of tragedies unvisited.

The Day After

Overdosed on
Cipralex. Watching
the ticking second
hand count by.
The fall is always
cushioned by thorns
ripping out of
unassuming buds,
wrapping themselves
around reassuringly.
Not drugged. Just full
of life. Life around.

Sunday, August 06, 2006

On Creative Writing

An unsuccessful day

Cross-legged and comfortably dressed;
Fruitlessly, swatting away the flies,
their digital voices, their human nuisances.

A successful day

Cross-legged and uncomfortably dressed;
Finding flies, worthwhile.

Today

On a date
long long ago;
balancing us on
the plane of
probability,
they decided
today we
shall mourn.


To pitter-patter,
I woke up suicidal
today. It was raining
and the television
was on. Someone was
calling my name;
I felt the
scrawl marks on my
bedpost. Struggles
had spawned me today.

Those tulips I had
bought sat by my bed;
dimming in the greying
light. 'hardy spring-
blooming bulbs that rival
the daffodil in
popularity.'* It
was summer. They
breathed in huddles,
soft petals, moist,
clinging on in
reassuring whispers.
Destiny had caught
up with me.


Long long ago
today. Reassuring
whispers, in the
absence of those
lost, were all
that could heard.



* From Gardenguides