How blissfully disregarded I am to the whole essence for all the part left that is left or was not there at all, in the deepest self of darkness from where I shall always say I am was not being me for the rest of the doom till the day I learnt am being useless acquaintance from the beginning till the mid way and the blissful end of the road.
Moreover now getting used the useful different words on different occasion holding different meaning marks the worth of me in the whole state of affair. Irrespective of the rest where shall I be me? And for the rest who wants to bring in something for me I converse, I interlude, I collide and I just get down on my knees. Just feel if I could really be ever able to explain the unsaid the way I wished it to be, i trust it the way it is as when it was, I see too much of I but if someone ever gives an ear to it would soon realise it its beyond the horizon all I seek is nothing but just one thing and yes I want to be selfish over here for the enchanting smile.
The smile, the whole lot of the cause and effect, is shutting the door only for the fall and the tender flesh beneath it. To make it look like a smile. To which I had always shown some respect, the glue and the stick none in the loss all staying apart
Such a seen truth of the smile, the longed one to be seen with a eyelashes dancing over each other. I had seen the glory of it while being in the depths of the coldness of warmth of the last winter, where I was melting to the coldness of scorching heat.
I rest I rest and again I rest seems frozen to the core of my inner self and not much beyond which I shall say it’s not in my capacity to be what I am not one become someone to allure just out of context to think then why do we even face such encounter where one is skulled to its own pieces of skeletal existence.
Recalling what it is for the said and done I might have been more than acquaintances and a bit more of mere a familiarity with the daily chords of encounters. But largely it beyond what words can print over that sand line under the tides but they just tend to disappears and washed. Percolates in the written unseen but to where when its not engraved in the beauty of the existence sometime too close sometimes far and other in exile.
But I do realise whatever you do the life would be as it is and would leave just a bleak scope of insignificant but I felt it to be done somewhere to those nobody else would. If I ever am would be seen god I feel you, the smile lost in the smile itself and yet wishing the smile ti smile.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
On the eve of mortuary
A mortuary of thought that I had lived with redefines my resilience as what I see in myself now after a couple of years it’s an aghast. Celebrating the dead virtues of the static stages, I would go deaf in such a silence of prophecy why didn’t I see it.
Amazing to see how I have inculcated the pragmatic bundle of the emotional grind “walk in and walk out” and here all inside it evolves the new origin, without any sensation but it’s like a barrage. The solitude rests in its own solace and the disparity had termed me in to an accused all through,
Though I don’t deny doing myself being blunt and to blunders that I have done. Me being myself I look back and then turn around and being a futurist I suffer then I disappear, the act is amusing me and leaves me lurching. For more is that I have become malicious or I have shown myself a path of what the fuck it is my selfish ego coming up and it’s so strong.
Not that I was a saint before but I had always given precedence to other without a second subsist of thought. But such thoughts have deserted I can see it, now as if there is an albatross flying over as I feel it had always flawed over the last half decades. The source of the acquaintance of the two poles I have felt and realised were always apart when I reflect back. And now I see myself graduated in to a pragmatic selfish guy driven by the intellectual, affluent, progressive and modern cult as they say and speak.
I would hate myself for this but would love to make a few mummies; as such aliens of people who are like me shall sleep under the pyramids of selfishness. May be such an act would curb this epidemic to spread as they show some disgust to the basic essence of the life and its virtues. Wondering is culling the only aspect left, or am just being too barbaric in my own thought but I won’t deny all of this in a literal way such things cannot be done away with.
At times while in a course of interaction with you and myself I used to have I in me and you in you. But it seems as if the crowd is getting thinner and I feel heavier under each breath I take. Loss is my entire personal one and the so intact within me. Yet the devastating curve makes me feel obscure and the intent is dyeing deep within to rely on to myself when to express to others it’s going to be huge task.
The wind has again become cold and dry as those words once heard over, I proclaim and assorted minutely in different contours for the whole but not me. Seems the blood has frozen inside to all those words of and for claimed as they were just cold and had nothing larger. Mere a few jumbling of the letter where they were arranged in a self asylum of arrays but hardly meant something apart from there collinear distance of the dots at the ends.
Like those deities whose face fair and of those that does not I have seen not behind the faces but people tend to and it’s my mistake. I shall be living with and learning. Dancing under the chants and lights when people grove around for inert belief of some existence and émigré. Else it’s no less than a mortuary of hope, belief and humanity. Disappearing is all that I have a sum of few faces already fading and the rest in the line to follow. Seems I have evolved in the process of the self excellence or rather the manner in which it improves in the whole advent of life thereafter. But tonight I would like to wish myself and other on the day of self mortuary. Just a amen to the grove of words their intent and the manner of bringing about the unsaid when it was always said.. Always just a possessive thought I lived with just second before. Thanks…..
Amazing to see how I have inculcated the pragmatic bundle of the emotional grind “walk in and walk out” and here all inside it evolves the new origin, without any sensation but it’s like a barrage. The solitude rests in its own solace and the disparity had termed me in to an accused all through,
Though I don’t deny doing myself being blunt and to blunders that I have done. Me being myself I look back and then turn around and being a futurist I suffer then I disappear, the act is amusing me and leaves me lurching. For more is that I have become malicious or I have shown myself a path of what the fuck it is my selfish ego coming up and it’s so strong.
Not that I was a saint before but I had always given precedence to other without a second subsist of thought. But such thoughts have deserted I can see it, now as if there is an albatross flying over as I feel it had always flawed over the last half decades. The source of the acquaintance of the two poles I have felt and realised were always apart when I reflect back. And now I see myself graduated in to a pragmatic selfish guy driven by the intellectual, affluent, progressive and modern cult as they say and speak.
I would hate myself for this but would love to make a few mummies; as such aliens of people who are like me shall sleep under the pyramids of selfishness. May be such an act would curb this epidemic to spread as they show some disgust to the basic essence of the life and its virtues. Wondering is culling the only aspect left, or am just being too barbaric in my own thought but I won’t deny all of this in a literal way such things cannot be done away with.
At times while in a course of interaction with you and myself I used to have I in me and you in you. But it seems as if the crowd is getting thinner and I feel heavier under each breath I take. Loss is my entire personal one and the so intact within me. Yet the devastating curve makes me feel obscure and the intent is dyeing deep within to rely on to myself when to express to others it’s going to be huge task.
The wind has again become cold and dry as those words once heard over, I proclaim and assorted minutely in different contours for the whole but not me. Seems the blood has frozen inside to all those words of and for claimed as they were just cold and had nothing larger. Mere a few jumbling of the letter where they were arranged in a self asylum of arrays but hardly meant something apart from there collinear distance of the dots at the ends.
Like those deities whose face fair and of those that does not I have seen not behind the faces but people tend to and it’s my mistake. I shall be living with and learning. Dancing under the chants and lights when people grove around for inert belief of some existence and émigré. Else it’s no less than a mortuary of hope, belief and humanity. Disappearing is all that I have a sum of few faces already fading and the rest in the line to follow. Seems I have evolved in the process of the self excellence or rather the manner in which it improves in the whole advent of life thereafter. But tonight I would like to wish myself and other on the day of self mortuary. Just a amen to the grove of words their intent and the manner of bringing about the unsaid when it was always said.. Always just a possessive thought I lived with just second before. Thanks…..
Friday, November 12, 2010
swirling rest
The self and the rest of the best that swirls around my world at times and on other they just ties up. Rarely in the very next moment I tend to see how much affinity i used to have in a longer run for some acquaintance or for none? In the most inner self of my ruckus till date that have left me unsettled till now is not for one or the some to blame for the nor the devil neither the deity. But yet once you take a closer rule in to the reflection of the whole spectrum what you see and realise is leave for left is some part of yourself.
In the exile of the thought where you might once forget some of the most memorable moments but you simply won’t forget the one the very one when shared something so close as touching skin. Where the skin perspired together living in the winds died there own death as no gale came for them. What I have realised that such a moments of close proximity leaves you in a lurch. People die fast young and old but moments are awake till the blood rushes in to your head.
Being for the first flower you saw blooming, the smell of wet soil, and the cuckoo of the birds, the first train journey, and the drop of coin as pocket money, the first bike ride, and the first time you kissed someone and the first time you lived in the confidence of the else. Like as boyzone sings “it’s only words and words are all I have “a promise unkempt is like a many such moments brazenly alive. We don’t mind where its mind in to it only, the rest is questioned too and thrown in the mud to settles down under the scorching heat for some more layers. As they remain unturned they form their own history of existence and death.
It mere human nature like the dogs tale like the swinging branch like the rising tides like the snowfall, like the money swirling from trees to trees like the waves dancing over each other next to none but the self or other self of the one
Complex isn’t it this is how I perceive it may be just a brood. Next for the lost innocence in the exile from those acquaintances as the world calls may be too less to be talked about or even mere for profusion. I seek a staring in the eyes to seek the truth that how I have turned is not what I feel I shall have liked to. Mostly the breeding disconnect with the connected and less is dying apart for less or more I am like an alien over the greenery where some flowers bloom but only to be washed by the pouring rain drops. Much more the affinity that was visible is getting blurred with a few more connected in the longest short distance I have travelled over the sparkles on the eve of lights on a couple of years. Yet the stand reaffirms the fall over proximity of just being alike a loss again, a triumph I guess I shall breath under the castle for the overgrown gust. To be penned yet further….
In the exile of the thought where you might once forget some of the most memorable moments but you simply won’t forget the one the very one when shared something so close as touching skin. Where the skin perspired together living in the winds died there own death as no gale came for them. What I have realised that such a moments of close proximity leaves you in a lurch. People die fast young and old but moments are awake till the blood rushes in to your head.
Being for the first flower you saw blooming, the smell of wet soil, and the cuckoo of the birds, the first train journey, and the drop of coin as pocket money, the first bike ride, and the first time you kissed someone and the first time you lived in the confidence of the else. Like as boyzone sings “it’s only words and words are all I have “a promise unkempt is like a many such moments brazenly alive. We don’t mind where its mind in to it only, the rest is questioned too and thrown in the mud to settles down under the scorching heat for some more layers. As they remain unturned they form their own history of existence and death.
It mere human nature like the dogs tale like the swinging branch like the rising tides like the snowfall, like the money swirling from trees to trees like the waves dancing over each other next to none but the self or other self of the one
Complex isn’t it this is how I perceive it may be just a brood. Next for the lost innocence in the exile from those acquaintances as the world calls may be too less to be talked about or even mere for profusion. I seek a staring in the eyes to seek the truth that how I have turned is not what I feel I shall have liked to. Mostly the breeding disconnect with the connected and less is dying apart for less or more I am like an alien over the greenery where some flowers bloom but only to be washed by the pouring rain drops. Much more the affinity that was visible is getting blurred with a few more connected in the longest short distance I have travelled over the sparkles on the eve of lights on a couple of years. Yet the stand reaffirms the fall over proximity of just being alike a loss again, a triumph I guess I shall breath under the castle for the overgrown gust. To be penned yet further….
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Not unfelt
When I think, I think I shall not because it takes too much of effort and breaths to make nonsense sensible or vice versa. Profusion aren’t merely a reflection of what I am in to and going all through in the middle of the day sometimes I roll from the hill and find the wind pushing me uphill. Tussling amongst the push and the pull the fear of the fall or the ball is not there rather I feel obscure of the fall.
At moments I feel ashamed of the inert panic on account what and who ever it shall not have an induction effect on some of the most proud gems I have on the paths of pebbles. The sparkle of which had made the path glowed
The choice which I make is not a choice I had meant but more than that. Giving away something does not mean I didn’t wished own but yes the preoccupation is something that I shall have not been entangled so much so that it could have been stagnant as it is being shown over here.
I feel I shall tell this straight, all along I was leading you on me, using you, keeping you waiting for something that wasn’t there in full not any time juggling between the now and the then, letting you get your hopes up for me as long as I wished I would be there but guess was still crawling and in the short span of time just brought grief and none. Figuring out the rest in all of the best just for the short term guest I felt and yet am feeling unrest.
During the small strides I have leaped across the roads and all the places inside out for but may be I feel at times yes I too feeble to make a choice for myself once and all, running away isnt what I have always done but even moving along with it is like running on sand the faster you want to turn it off the more you sunk in to it.
Seems a long way to go from here as well but all in one go I don’t feel to induct numbness nor do it do which I don’t but to hang it on over the cliff I would choose the full swing once again and oscillate till I till I …
“I love you. It's not a weight you must carry around. I love you. It's not a box that holds you in. I love you. It's not a standard you have to bear. I love you. It's not a sacrifice I make. I love you. It's not a pedestal you are frozen upon. I love you. It's not an expectation of perfection. I love you. It's not my life's whole purpose (or your's). I love you. It's not to make you change. I love you. It's not even to make you love me. I love you. It's as pure and simple as that.” Not mine but read something like somewhere just came in to mind like many other things …. Till now…
At moments I feel ashamed of the inert panic on account what and who ever it shall not have an induction effect on some of the most proud gems I have on the paths of pebbles. The sparkle of which had made the path glowed
The choice which I make is not a choice I had meant but more than that. Giving away something does not mean I didn’t wished own but yes the preoccupation is something that I shall have not been entangled so much so that it could have been stagnant as it is being shown over here.
I feel I shall tell this straight, all along I was leading you on me, using you, keeping you waiting for something that wasn’t there in full not any time juggling between the now and the then, letting you get your hopes up for me as long as I wished I would be there but guess was still crawling and in the short span of time just brought grief and none. Figuring out the rest in all of the best just for the short term guest I felt and yet am feeling unrest.
During the small strides I have leaped across the roads and all the places inside out for but may be I feel at times yes I too feeble to make a choice for myself once and all, running away isnt what I have always done but even moving along with it is like running on sand the faster you want to turn it off the more you sunk in to it.
Seems a long way to go from here as well but all in one go I don’t feel to induct numbness nor do it do which I don’t but to hang it on over the cliff I would choose the full swing once again and oscillate till I till I …
“I love you. It's not a weight you must carry around. I love you. It's not a box that holds you in. I love you. It's not a standard you have to bear. I love you. It's not a sacrifice I make. I love you. It's not a pedestal you are frozen upon. I love you. It's not an expectation of perfection. I love you. It's not my life's whole purpose (or your's). I love you. It's not to make you change. I love you. It's not even to make you love me. I love you. It's as pure and simple as that.” Not mine but read something like somewhere just came in to mind like many other things …. Till now…
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Some ice, dusk and dawn
The limits of the unlimited vagueness in the empty vessels of time that i feel make me numb. Looks like they all are more than a few facts which we tend to reckon on for the fib and feast of life. The more which i tend to figure out of the less I have lived in and the more I have desired out of it
Running away from I in me, I feel am I looking in for something new, or it’s just the old me in I that is coming up again posting a masquerade. Mesmerizing at how far I have come for the rest of the things was merely a moment of transition. How deeply I was engrossed in the overwhelmed moments and where was i lost under the profusion of the due.
Largely I quest for the depth of shallowness of the moments that graved the once lived and left. It meant a lot all through, as meant as worlds façades. How many times I have played the snake and ladder the moment I felt assured am just rolled down to the gushing water for a splash of verve.
But yet the zeal inside doesn’t allow me to settle down under the marine along with the mermaids of the shallowness. Else would like to drove my wings along with the ducks dancing on the waves, no matter how many times I shall be doused. But yet today I feel I don’t care anymore for something deep inside me have enslaved to exist and don’t know what is it..
Till then however the winds wish to fly me off to various horizons of life and show me some ice, grass, rainbow, some down pours dusk and dawn .. I shall be the I
Running away from I in me, I feel am I looking in for something new, or it’s just the old me in I that is coming up again posting a masquerade. Mesmerizing at how far I have come for the rest of the things was merely a moment of transition. How deeply I was engrossed in the overwhelmed moments and where was i lost under the profusion of the due.
Largely I quest for the depth of shallowness of the moments that graved the once lived and left. It meant a lot all through, as meant as worlds façades. How many times I have played the snake and ladder the moment I felt assured am just rolled down to the gushing water for a splash of verve.
But yet the zeal inside doesn’t allow me to settle down under the marine along with the mermaids of the shallowness. Else would like to drove my wings along with the ducks dancing on the waves, no matter how many times I shall be doused. But yet today I feel I don’t care anymore for something deep inside me have enslaved to exist and don’t know what is it..
Till then however the winds wish to fly me off to various horizons of life and show me some ice, grass, rainbow, some down pours dusk and dawn .. I shall be the I
Monday, September 20, 2010
Dark Calmness
Closed my eyes as they were rove ring around
Clasping the lids together to shun it under the calm darkness
The radiance under those lashes were still flowing
As if the droll was not thwarted with the lids..
Flamboyant, Allured, stagnant, stuck, shocked
A mere transfusion of transparency those fling in them
A reflect of the affect over the dearth of the presence
Was it merely an unseen veracity of the absent presence
A reason to cheer for a season to dance to, a day to celebrate
Today why under the sun and moon no rays fall on me..
It is not afar the closed lids unseen, yet there
Understanding the void, living the unlived, believed the belief
No matter how many times they speak from away.
Unseen was me yet judged and affirmed to the task at hay
Seemed all right for the flight to the kinder land..
With non ambiguous flows of words forming a stream
Yet I lost the boost down the stream was rowing till now..
Seems the clutches were not strong the new stream allured enough
Pushed ajar, flourishing in the possessed possessiveness
To the day I say and dance as its still closed in the dark calmness..
Clasping the lids together to shun it under the calm darkness
The radiance under those lashes were still flowing
As if the droll was not thwarted with the lids..
Flamboyant, Allured, stagnant, stuck, shocked
A mere transfusion of transparency those fling in them
A reflect of the affect over the dearth of the presence
Was it merely an unseen veracity of the absent presence
A reason to cheer for a season to dance to, a day to celebrate
Today why under the sun and moon no rays fall on me..
It is not afar the closed lids unseen, yet there
Understanding the void, living the unlived, believed the belief
No matter how many times they speak from away.
Unseen was me yet judged and affirmed to the task at hay
Seemed all right for the flight to the kinder land..
With non ambiguous flows of words forming a stream
Yet I lost the boost down the stream was rowing till now..
Seems the clutches were not strong the new stream allured enough
Pushed ajar, flourishing in the possessed possessiveness
To the day I say and dance as its still closed in the dark calmness..
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Short Acquaintance
Naissance naive obscure acquaintance short yet deep as in the depths,
Frilled with small moments, closed knitted with less slow encounters,
Fudged with sweet fights, drilled with long conversation,
Care and passion bridged, fall and rise of desire.
Anomalies of ambiguity, sublime talks over and on...
Blunt and blatant drift, shut and closed calculation of preposition.
Lost meaning of words, sheer cuts left of denial of drift
Grooming differences over naive prepositions....
Losing the flying kite, for the new flight.
knowness to no ness as mere acquaintance.
A thought less thought a fall unseen a reason not sought.
An option not explored mere a loss.
Better to fly far then swing back better be lost then swirling the rope,
With a hope to be clinched but castrated
As the castle turned in to hay, left was a mortuary of words.
Where once i lived by then late on i died by them..
Frilled with small moments, closed knitted with less slow encounters,
Fudged with sweet fights, drilled with long conversation,
Care and passion bridged, fall and rise of desire.
Anomalies of ambiguity, sublime talks over and on...
Blunt and blatant drift, shut and closed calculation of preposition.
Lost meaning of words, sheer cuts left of denial of drift
Grooming differences over naive prepositions....
Losing the flying kite, for the new flight.
knowness to no ness as mere acquaintance.
A thought less thought a fall unseen a reason not sought.
An option not explored mere a loss.
Better to fly far then swing back better be lost then swirling the rope,
With a hope to be clinched but castrated
As the castle turned in to hay, left was a mortuary of words.
Where once i lived by then late on i died by them..
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)