writing – Page 8

Dad look at me, rage crosses my mind in my patience!: A poem

Sometimes, I think I can break every moment like a walnut, in the nutcracker of my mind! As if I was some kind of Shivaite entity, the cosmos like paper crunching between my fingers And I don’t need to draw out its entrails becuase at the point of my destructive force, I am disinterested! I am not obsessed with the villainyContinue reading “Dad look at me, rage crosses my mind in my patience!: A poem “

Archangel Gabriel, you gay lunatic and beggar!: A poem

(I hate the Moon! I hate the fish) 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 swingingContinue reading “Archangel Gabriel, you gay lunatic and beggar!: A poem “

Mother, there is a loud dystopian outcry; must justice die?: A poem

I hear a placenta knocking at my door I always had my lightening amid the vocal sound of silence This is more awakening in the sonne et lumiere Much of it was the love that I had for you! How can I discard the womb of my life for an underbelly of pretentious happiness? Spirituality is much my core, and it is your voiceContinue reading “Mother, there is a loud dystopian outcry; must justice die?: A poem “

Mother, there is a loud dystopian outcry; must justice die?: A poem

Mother, I still believe in myself (even with no practical help from anyone), I assure you!: A poem

Would you think the sun would prefer a comatose because it fears its awakening will only be its imprisonment and hijacking? I have just learnt that every horizon, like they said, in those medieval days, that the flat earth had flesh-eating monsters at its edges! Who would want to fall, then, into a sea to be dragged down? We still don’t know the depths it canContinue reading “Mother, I still believe in myself (even with no practical help from anyone), I assure you!: A poem “

I peer through the window into space…: A poem

I peer through the window into a space, a place dotted by imagination, illusion, fantasy, Like a child’s first venture into fable, where he discovers there is a reality beyond the surreal moat of a bounded reality And I question every science that seems to connote a presumption or conclusion to the existence of being Have I not wanderedContinue reading “I peer through the window into space…: A poem “

I am just sounding my warning bells, Thank you!: A poem

Here I am singing my song when I’m on the threshold of 62; even if all of you are stone deaf to my lyrics, except the ones who want to manipulate them (the lyrics) illegitimately in their favour, of course! If you all have any iota of morality in yourselves, or a sense of original spirit, without it being dampened byContinue reading “I am just sounding my warning bells, Thank you!: A poem “

Oh! How I remember my beautiful pets! In a memory of grieving euphoria!: A poem

O You think what is fidelity, what is love?! A bond that even a cynical misanthrope would abound! This is like a machine shooting out the tennis balls To keep you alive and kicking and aim the racquet of your heart How do you feel this exercise of your soul So agile and eager, like an owl in the night! I wouldn’t even care aContinue reading “Oh! How I remember my beautiful pets! In a memory of grieving euphoria!: A poem “

All about India and my life in this lifetime!: A poem

I remember those lazy days with slow-rolling bullock carts queuing up on those dilapidated streets. There were more bullock carts then cars, then! Those streets that would be repaired only if totally outworn. And the hazard of environmental hygiene being last on people’s minds. What could be done when there were not enough loos for a fast-overpopulating nation! I didn’t even like cricket, but I sneaked into neighbours’ homes just forContinue reading “All about India and my life in this lifetime!: A poem “

Was I Alexander or Bucephalus?: A poem

(Albanese, how foolish are you! Hahahahaaha!, Urusula is a bear not a bull!! Thank you Russia! Tired of globetrotting? Those wicked colluders are coming to you?) I can’t seem to remember, was I Alexander or was I Bucephalus? The ox-head and the phallus? The black steed with the white star on its brow. I can say I always was marked with that protection a relativeContinue reading “Was I Alexander or Bucephalus?: A poem “