What are the markers of life, as you float in aspiration, constructs narrated by a society of norms that convince you to believe in them. When religion fails you, and faith seems possessed only by the need to achieve that this should be the ultimate fate you live for! You carved out singularly sensitive tales of human life, brought forth by your own creative soul; butContinue reading “LeoTolstoy, Introversion, Extroversion and Existence; markers and pivots, War and Peace!: A poem “
Tag Archives: writing
Archangel Gabriel, you gay lunatic and beggar!: A poem
Archangel Gabriel wherefrom did you arise into the realm of humanity? You were a depth in the deep sea, where you lay driveling like a swine You are a gay icon, like never knowing your colours between green and brine You are a heavenly piece of shit, like you’d be swinging on a vine! Did you come thus farContinue reading “Archangel Gabriel, you gay lunatic and beggar!: A poem “
You know Milo of Croton, I am much too strong even for you!: A poem
There was Milo of Croton, so strong that he won Olympic titles six-times over, and innumerably so many other titles, his legend was carved in statues and romantic literature down the ages. He even carried his own bronze statue. I have not sought fame and yet borne immense burdens! You know Milo, you only started with carrying a calfContinue reading “You know Milo of Croton, I am much too strong even for you!: A poem “
If I were a fool, and continue to be one, and be proud!: A poem
Look at me, and my tunic with all its wormholes! These wormholes to posterity; where I witness my birth and death and resurrection; in a timescale of a moment. So that I know my own defeat, as a purpose! That this knowledge like drops of vinegar on my thorn-crowned soul mitigate its suffering. And be called an aloe. You know the labyrinthContinue reading “If I were a fool, and continue to be one, and be proud!: A poem “
In the valley of words; and mountains of ideas!: A poem
Does a word fulfil an expression? Does an expression fulfil a thought? How benign is an expletive compared to the sense of actual anger, bitterness? Do you feel that an expression is only assuaged by its exhibition? Does, then, expression mitigate angst? Or do we ignore the frustration of dissatisfied resonance without the beat of the pulse and carry on with the swordsContinue reading “In the valley of words; and mountains of ideas!: A poem “
Don (DT) McLean, Van Gogh’s beauty and Dostoevsky’s beauty; so what is suicide?: A poem
Don Mclean, how beautifully you described Van Gogh! A starry night, when I look into it and feel the pulse of an eternal past, and then I draw courage, and then I should persevere to believe! That all things so sorrowful meet their end before our own! And Van Gogh’s soul was as beautiful and enrapturing as his art! How beautiful is the truth, whenContinue reading “Don (DT) McLean, Van Gogh’s beauty and Dostoevsky’s beauty; so what is suicide?: A poem “
If you could all call a Mango!: A poem
Did I hang around the big bang? Was I honky tonk before rock and roll sang? Did I create my sugar and honey? Or did it give me diabetes? Was the singularity more than just a trinity? Did I create Mum and Dad, or was it them before me? Sometimes, I wake up singing at three? How should I know, the Trumps willContinue reading “If you could all call a Mango!: A poem “
There was a time when I felt inhibited by the Sun!: A poem
There was a time when I felt inhibited by the sun It was not because I didn’t like Sol Invictus; but I had knowledge that poor him was taken by an imposter. Now, I prefer long sunny days of Summer, where dawn breaks early and dusk comes late. I no longer feel postured by the fact that the Sun isContinue reading “There was a time when I felt inhibited by the Sun!: A poem “
I’m sorry, English is not my language; I have my own unique lingo!: A poem
Do you conjecture I only waste words on my blogsite while I am always silent in a manner of speaking? Is that golden? The brashness of putting the truth down on paper, is that it will always be used as evidence against you by treacherous conspirators! So do you think I am baulked between bastions? I can beContinue reading “I’m sorry, English is not my language; I have my own unique lingo!: A poem “
This January, This May, This September!: A poem
When I lived in the northern hemisphere, in a land of spice, milk and honey, I respected the mild-tempered January, the heat of May and the equanimity of September. As if their ambience remained illustratively pervading all through the year. Like a waterless rain of love, and more significantly, a reign. Like childhood’s enchanted chrysalis forming every day. MumContinue reading “This January, This May, This September!: A poem “