How true it is. We fight we criticise we stipulate each other over the political lines dividing us for the congenital reality and sadly even the most literate ones who pen down theories of sociological change but they hardly vary themselves. Yet we brawl over the identity which is not our variety but mere a veracity of the verve.
I just quest in my mind when would we grow up along with the years, when would we don’t see each others life as their background where they come from and learn to embrace the people if not the difference..
It’s high time when we need to acknowledge the divergence and accept it and do away with the disparity amongst us. The stereotype and bigotry shall be swabbed and feel at home if not at home.
At time I feel we shall be free over the feelings of hatred, stereotypes, and prejudices and then we shall be free because even more than fifty years of freedom haven’t allowed us to be free in our concise.
Lets allow our self to be liberal like the economic liberalisation where we allowed a free movement of good and economies to transfuse in to each others domains, I think we shall now feel and make ourselves permeable and porous and let it conquers us deep within, once we do away with the rigid literate or illiterate thoughts of alienation for our selfish deeds to be fulfilled. Killing a few with the bullets killing a few with denial of sustainable opportunities to strive and grow and alienating a few on grounds of the grounds where they have grown or died.
I desire to respire in such an air before I gasp for my last breath and then I shall say “I died as a free citizen of the nation” And yet I feel I shall say “ a Happy Independence Day to all of you” with a hope ………..
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
“Get Out”
Judgments made in hay, are not only swift but furious as well for me and as well the in and out me. It is not always a hug or push nor acquaintances or be keen on. Sometimes there are aspects which i tend to overlook while I utter something and think something. But mostly all of them are ignored and the space is crunched deep within though sublime.
May be all of us tend to be sturdy for others and yet the Achilles' heel stand tall to the figure. But when I myself I have been like this in most of the times and I don’t regret. May be I spurt too much and it crosses all and flies over the valley of abstract as tall and strong puting each other to a match.
All throughout that I have known it was the best yet the worst was coming all along. And yet I believe I shall not change a bit for the lost of the loss which isn’t “Martian” but well within me. Here also I forget to forgive and would yet like to forget, seems an ongoing moment for a long time till now. Seems would not fly with the ashes or flow with the streams. It’s waiting for the outburst like the eruption of the volcano and magus floating in to me screaming “Get Out”.
Late of soon I can conclude I shall fasten it as it shakes me from deep within and also forms bar engulfing me in to. When it walks steadily but slowly I feel it’s haunting. Yet I know I shall keep walking from here but to where!!
It’s taking a lot from me and I yet I keep it posted as I know the lamp above this is still burning and I still breathing.
May be all of us tend to be sturdy for others and yet the Achilles' heel stand tall to the figure. But when I myself I have been like this in most of the times and I don’t regret. May be I spurt too much and it crosses all and flies over the valley of abstract as tall and strong puting each other to a match.
All throughout that I have known it was the best yet the worst was coming all along. And yet I believe I shall not change a bit for the lost of the loss which isn’t “Martian” but well within me. Here also I forget to forgive and would yet like to forget, seems an ongoing moment for a long time till now. Seems would not fly with the ashes or flow with the streams. It’s waiting for the outburst like the eruption of the volcano and magus floating in to me screaming “Get Out”.
Late of soon I can conclude I shall fasten it as it shakes me from deep within and also forms bar engulfing me in to. When it walks steadily but slowly I feel it’s haunting. Yet I know I shall keep walking from here but to where!!
It’s taking a lot from me and I yet I keep it posted as I know the lamp above this is still burning and I still breathing.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
new and old
Feelings were never so obscure and ambiguous
Aren’t pragmatic but yet nice to feel
When and why do we tend to look for a preposition?
Some are the old ones whereas some naives new attractions
Tending to shuffle from the best to the rest the just of the frame that feeling frame
Shuffling in and out of the crust scattered all across
Deep within the fury of the desire keeps pushing it up
Riding over the Low and high tides
When fog shows something only what I choose to see
flow and flown were mere the exemplification how far w go
gull had its own way but the desire flows some where else
the preposition that makes me go insane was I to lame
to stick with the old stick where ever I moved
Unlike the rest where the feeling just resides calmly as if in deep sleep
Revolving around the stick badly stuck
End is all I feel and it’s just along with me
It’s all I have its all I own it’s all I respect its all I clinch to
Silently buried deep in the inner self I walk in and out
Walking as fresh as the old feeling walks with the new
Aren’t pragmatic but yet nice to feel
When and why do we tend to look for a preposition?
Some are the old ones whereas some naives new attractions
Tending to shuffle from the best to the rest the just of the frame that feeling frame
Shuffling in and out of the crust scattered all across
Deep within the fury of the desire keeps pushing it up
Riding over the Low and high tides
When fog shows something only what I choose to see
flow and flown were mere the exemplification how far w go
gull had its own way but the desire flows some where else
the preposition that makes me go insane was I to lame
to stick with the old stick where ever I moved
Unlike the rest where the feeling just resides calmly as if in deep sleep
Revolving around the stick badly stuck
End is all I feel and it’s just along with me
It’s all I have its all I own it’s all I respect its all I clinch to
Silently buried deep in the inner self I walk in and out
Walking as fresh as the old feeling walks with the new
Frill
The longest drill in the frill all over
The air amongst the hairs
Though cool but yet as warm as the sparks
Goes off as soon as it comes
Seems unlikely freshness touching the fragrance
Though a small feint of the grit owns the grip
Looking the trip over the fumes and perfume
The full lines strength of the welcome
Played to the tunes lost in the moments
The moments which were for the lost
Found and lost or lost and found was just game
Engulfing were just the touch of the gust
Lines touching the shores, but the waves ingesting it all up
The waver couldn’t wash off the fumes of the grins
But fumes was flamed and blamed for the grace
Saw it was just a glare above the rule and prowl
Profusion lost in the own intrusion of the crippling inertia
Nor even did it jumped over the assigned peak
The fumbling feet were always far as if ordered
The hastening seems to have lost affection on name of acquaintance
The air amongst the hairs
Though cool but yet as warm as the sparks
Goes off as soon as it comes
Seems unlikely freshness touching the fragrance
Though a small feint of the grit owns the grip
Looking the trip over the fumes and perfume
The full lines strength of the welcome
Played to the tunes lost in the moments
The moments which were for the lost
Found and lost or lost and found was just game
Engulfing were just the touch of the gust
Lines touching the shores, but the waves ingesting it all up
The waver couldn’t wash off the fumes of the grins
But fumes was flamed and blamed for the grace
Saw it was just a glare above the rule and prowl
Profusion lost in the own intrusion of the crippling inertia
Nor even did it jumped over the assigned peak
The fumbling feet were always far as if ordered
The hastening seems to have lost affection on name of acquaintance
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
see thy and i
How did all happened, who was in it? And where it all did happened, some where inside me I was too cramped to get in it
No I wished to get out.
A flawless sparkle of the fire flare-up over the wind taking charred to the oysters. I felt relieved while smouldering in the fury of the words.
As the song goes its only words and words are all I have.. But I had lost the count of the many which had just brushed me ajar as if they were all mine…
Snuggling to the fury of those few words have kept me burning in and out, forget the dawn and dusk, I had lost the count of the breaths fuming the sweltering air in and out..
Seems it’s not hard to see how ardent life becomes over the lives which we live in with and for. But the irony of it the lived in lives for and yet live in for it. Many grave battles fought over the breads and breaths ego, agony, desire, and fury of hatred ending in no end. Where does they end and surface over the rest, is none the rest just the words of the self or thy. This is what I have believed for being in isolation of the solitude of the rest other than the self and thy.
Even in the wildest dreams one is not alone then where do the words flow in from the brook of the solace. We don’t find them ever yet we chase and in this trail many confront. The illusion of thy and I get over and we come to see one domain with the likes. All with different likes and dislikes for the self and their i.
How unreal it is, when we use to see what we don’t and yet we are shown what isn’t. To the agony for the self and thy is surfaces from within but not over the others. Yet the blame of the game falls over the rest and best either on thy or the i. the significant others rules in the war of words as they baffles over and over wandering on the agony. But the anguish isn’t theirs it just the words which turns it in to fury. Frolic and fun for the rest and best in and around just the thy and I turns ugly and rest rules in the battles of words
None is at it over it above it, the way I refute to listen to the self it mere a pity on me. Its not how I deal with it but more how believe in it the farther I move the closer I get to the fury and words don’t end they keep pouring in like the blinding rain. Blurring the vision of the self for thy, I choose the words for i or thy.
I feel the fury within me but don’t vent nor do I believe in some and not in the others but I prefer to see them just them.
Laid down at times fluttered and punted to the crook yet I know even their I would get to see a few more just to see in to them..
And the words for them would be just what I see just what I see. I hope in the end the spirit tend to see and just see even for thy…
No I wished to get out.
A flawless sparkle of the fire flare-up over the wind taking charred to the oysters. I felt relieved while smouldering in the fury of the words.
As the song goes its only words and words are all I have.. But I had lost the count of the many which had just brushed me ajar as if they were all mine…
Snuggling to the fury of those few words have kept me burning in and out, forget the dawn and dusk, I had lost the count of the breaths fuming the sweltering air in and out..
Seems it’s not hard to see how ardent life becomes over the lives which we live in with and for. But the irony of it the lived in lives for and yet live in for it. Many grave battles fought over the breads and breaths ego, agony, desire, and fury of hatred ending in no end. Where does they end and surface over the rest, is none the rest just the words of the self or thy. This is what I have believed for being in isolation of the solitude of the rest other than the self and thy.
Even in the wildest dreams one is not alone then where do the words flow in from the brook of the solace. We don’t find them ever yet we chase and in this trail many confront. The illusion of thy and I get over and we come to see one domain with the likes. All with different likes and dislikes for the self and their i.
How unreal it is, when we use to see what we don’t and yet we are shown what isn’t. To the agony for the self and thy is surfaces from within but not over the others. Yet the blame of the game falls over the rest and best either on thy or the i. the significant others rules in the war of words as they baffles over and over wandering on the agony. But the anguish isn’t theirs it just the words which turns it in to fury. Frolic and fun for the rest and best in and around just the thy and I turns ugly and rest rules in the battles of words
None is at it over it above it, the way I refute to listen to the self it mere a pity on me. Its not how I deal with it but more how believe in it the farther I move the closer I get to the fury and words don’t end they keep pouring in like the blinding rain. Blurring the vision of the self for thy, I choose the words for i or thy.
I feel the fury within me but don’t vent nor do I believe in some and not in the others but I prefer to see them just them.
Laid down at times fluttered and punted to the crook yet I know even their I would get to see a few more just to see in to them..
And the words for them would be just what I see just what I see. I hope in the end the spirit tend to see and just see even for thy…
Monday, June 21, 2010
swig
Woke up to the power cuts
Snuggling in the closed eyes
I see a dream some not of the film
Just real as the realms of the verve
Found myself collapsing within me
While trying to stretch out to out
The more I did the more I bolt my eyes
The breath rising higher and higher
A rush to rush somewhere over the lazy legs
Night noon till the afternoon
Losing the vista of the moon
Waking to the sun bloom
Waking in scorching heat and red
Listening to the crashing music
Danced to tunes of the words
Played and mustered like a puppet
Rolled and flipped over the shade
The blade of the glade of new embrace
Followed the grim of the old gate
Left ajar, for it to shut and close on it own
It swig from the depths to the shallowness
Forced yet not framed yet folded
Casted yet craved for the chase of laze
None but just the charm does fade and shall not
Snuggling in the closed eyes
I see a dream some not of the film
Just real as the realms of the verve
Found myself collapsing within me
While trying to stretch out to out
The more I did the more I bolt my eyes
The breath rising higher and higher
A rush to rush somewhere over the lazy legs
Night noon till the afternoon
Losing the vista of the moon
Waking to the sun bloom
Waking in scorching heat and red
Listening to the crashing music
Danced to tunes of the words
Played and mustered like a puppet
Rolled and flipped over the shade
The blade of the glade of new embrace
Followed the grim of the old gate
Left ajar, for it to shut and close on it own
It swig from the depths to the shallowness
Forced yet not framed yet folded
Casted yet craved for the chase of laze
None but just the charm does fade and shall not
Fudged
Fudged to the limits of the insanity,
The passive feeling of disassociated union
Some lies down over the sack of the chums
Some gush over them negating it even for the cuddle
Clouds running over the head,
The eyes hounding them till then run
Clamped to the tunes of the fumes in loom
Thrown in the silent valley of roaring words
Clutched in to the hue of the shadow
Listening to the dreaded words not for one
I choose to lose not me but the faith in the wait
Lost to the profanity of the vicinity far was me
Clairvoyant you to the task I never saw the mask
Flared by the flow of the glow I was murk
The spark was their but sanity washed it
The silence of the washed colours were not me……
The passive feeling of disassociated union
Some lies down over the sack of the chums
Some gush over them negating it even for the cuddle
Clouds running over the head,
The eyes hounding them till then run
Clamped to the tunes of the fumes in loom
Thrown in the silent valley of roaring words
Clutched in to the hue of the shadow
Listening to the dreaded words not for one
I choose to lose not me but the faith in the wait
Lost to the profanity of the vicinity far was me
Clairvoyant you to the task I never saw the mask
Flared by the flow of the glow I was murk
The spark was their but sanity washed it
The silence of the washed colours were not me……
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