Friday, April 18, 2014

Poetry and or Posturing
The biggest strength lying on the lie of our being
Tells constantly of our needs - assurances worthy for a day to day existence
But who is worthy of this highest of posts?
The she's and he's who reigned for centuries have long deserted their thrones
Unable to bear the dreadful weight of such a curse
Yet we lie in hope of such relief from the most wretched of souls
Each and everyone tortured by the curse 
Of finding self worth to showcase to the outside world.

In this great act of ignorance emerges the noble of our times
Here is where we enslave ourselves to others of our kind
In this prostitution of perspective we see the sad demise
Of the eye that gazed gracefully at the familiarity of the divine 

Friday, November 25, 2011

Tell me Why

Tell me why the sky is blue!
My eyes are red are yours too?
Tell me why the sun does set!
Is it a lie or am I a fool?
Tell me why the birds sing!
Is it for me or is it for you?

Today I saw bats flying in the sky.
For so long that i thought it was a dream.
I rubbed my eyes, i blinked twice.
I look at the bats, lose out on the sky
Oh what is it that that i do?

I do not laugh I do not weep.
One thing I cannot not do is sleep.
So like a good boy  wash my feet.
I dry them in white towels, clean.
Dirty water seeps into the dark mud.
One day as the rain you will return.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

An ode to my breath

Subtle and silent, thou art the master of elegance.
A ghost without color, that which holds so much power.
Like the waves of the ocean, breaking in- one after the other.
The engine of my life is fuelled by your presence.

Thy many forms and modes make kin of animals, plants and microbes.
As a common factor, you are impartial to the universe.
You come as you wish and leave as you please.
Thou are second to none in the bazaar of beings.

The rightful father of language: you carry our each word.
But we the humans think not much of your worth.
In the world of human language Gods are mortal souls.
Fools muse: the primacy of man is not with men, but lies with you.

I eat, sing, dance, laugh, cry and sweat.
It doesn’t really matter whether I’m moving or at rest.
As a man of the world there are so many goals to be met.
“Your lungs work fine” the words of my last cigarette.

So I take you for granted until it becomes evident.
Usually at the battlefield stretcher or the hospital bed.
While running for one’s life or chasing fate.
The ignorance of a lifetime O breath: is met at death.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Binary Beings

I cannot touch you through your pictures.
I cannot reach for you through these framed words.
This virtual facade of our genius denies me experience whole.

I scour through these bits and bytes that represent your being.
All the time assuming, never really knowing.

My feeling like my being is organic and inside me.
Something no technology can touch or even receive.
It is exclusively for you in all entirety.

Not in a photo, not in a line, not in a medium that etches shadows of my life.
In flesh and blood i stand before thee.
No more groping in the darkness, time to take delight in the living.

(A precursor to disappearance)