Saturday, July 30, 2016

Why don't you to come to my Neverland.

At the brink of the sea...
I sat there pulling the sun away from sinking into the red sea...
painting the sky blue so that its just the right hue...
getting the waves flow up and down the shore gently...
and waiting for you to get into the window of my neverland....

I see, you don't see the window...
you see a clown pulling the sun,
painting clumsy little white clouds..that is just going to drench herself...
you see my ragged clothes..
and bulged up eyes that haven't slept for a century now..
a century, waiting for you.
You see everything but the window...

You were just right next to me....
watching the whole world...
you watched the kitten pooping next door..
you saw my laundry piling up on the floor...
you saw the postbox vomiting unread mails...
the world wars and the golden stocks&shares...
You see everything but the window...

But I remember once when you were drunk,
I silently kidnapped you like peter pan into my neverland..
we saw mermaids and bell towers with princesses,
we saw a peacock with rainbow feathers...
we soared high and never landed back..
We were like the phoenix shedding every day's past
and always being born for the future....
But I see that you were drunk...

I am scared... that now I can't go into neverland alone...
not without ur breath on my shoulder
or that magical smile of yours that enticed me into this blissful boon...
without you I will just rip the colors of my neverland...
Without you I will be no phoenix,
I will just have a past and never look for a future...
Without you my neverland is crumbling...
Without your sweet little touch on my bare skin,
I am afraid I can never open the window of my NEVERLAND....

Please, Why don't you come to my never land...


Friday, March 4, 2016

in the vintage frame.

Through the golden vintage frame..
I see the beautiful drapes...
the window...
my coffee cup in white fragile ceramic with the silver lining.....

candle lit after dark...
laughter filling in for music...
tears held through hugs...
and overemotional friend who would do anything for me...

day dreaming a valid past time..
faraway places seen through the words of nomads...
everything looked precious...
the ink, the paper,the blonde and blue eyes...
paintings made by hand....
empathy ruling your head...
I want to live in this antique dream...
and be Human...

white soul in the black forest...


A gentle breeze of shattered glass,
a deep swim in the dark river, 
with open eyes...
and a dripping soul... 
I see a spine bent human, 
holding to the black thunder....
...........
with a smile and a tear

Engulfed in the music of white noise... 
blinded  in a vaccum of white light.. 
with clutched fingers
and screams inside my head...
I see a dangling body of slender woman
moving to the music of my screams... 
.......

 with no face nor eyes....

cold breeze splitting my skin...
warm blood oozing in my wounds... 
Hands frozen
Soul broken, 
crawling
through the dead leaves... 
I heard a humming.... No singing... 
"ta rumpum ta rumpum,
turn around
turn around
ta rumpum ta rumpum
run along 
run along
ta rumpum ta rumpum"
and a whisper 
chilling my spine
" I am the black forest"












Sunday, February 7, 2016

My own sweet tinker bell...

For the first time I witnessed,
A sparkling snowy breeze giggling past my snack on one fine evening,
so soft and so bright....
Oh! wasn't it the the summer though? yes, yes it was....
Well! I am talking about my dear lovely Han...

Whose golden hair blazed through my pain and tore it into shreds..
A perfect nest that I could cuddle into...


Her oceanic green eyes just spiraled down all my mischief...
and gave something in return, that would just make me fly like peter pan..
Oh! her lovely finger that clutched to mine...
made me swell with pride...
shouldn't I be? oh well ain't I the one who has an angel for a friend...
every time I feel down I just have to think of my own tinker bell..
and Tada... I feel all well....

oh my lovely tinker bell... My lovely Han.. Love u loads...




Sunday, November 29, 2015

enaku veetuku ponum

On the isle of foreign soil,
drunk, dry and confused by mirages and snowfall, 
nothing smells of home, 
neither the chicken nor the curry nothing smells like home. 

On the miniscule of a second, 
pushed and pulled by a million memories, 
I don't know where to start,
neither the incense nor the silence fill my empty nights. 

On the virtual reality of skype
felt and unfelt
I am longing for am embrace
that smell's like my mother's jasmine.

On the flight back home,
cuddled and jetlagged,
I only wish to stay back,
and stop saying "Hey its been a year, how are you?"
and start saying "How was the movie yesterday?"

Let the flower feel the breeze

Like a flower that cannot feel the breeze,
her heart was filled in a vaccum.
It couldn't feel any more the turbulent flow of life,
She stopped and looked,
Everything was a painting that she couldn't understand,
Everything had an aroma that she didn't desire,
Life was perfect for her, So would everyone say,
What would they know?
They just look at the mirror and reflect what they think,
have they gotten in it to know its made of grains of sharp glasses,
If they did and break it,
the vaccum would float away,
and
hey,
I see the flower feel the breeze.

Note: depression is a disease, yes if fellow people have no compassion. you can be a cure too.






Sunday, August 23, 2015

Heart filled with no words

I can't find words in me anymore
words are replaced by this rather formless beasts.
I think that they are infact beautiful angels,
I am not sure, let me explain...

They are these beautiful angels
giving me light,
They take me into this beautiful forest with scent that's so intense ,
that it seems surreal, But I know its real.
I know the warmth is real,
I know the light that hits the nerves of my soul is real.
that my heart filled with this beautiful angel is real....

But then something happens...
My heart stops pumping blood into my head,
but I know its beating faster,
And then there is this dam that's about to burst open at the brink of my eyelids,
diminishing light that has so far been swallowing the dark in the forest.
It feels real but i know its surreal,
or I want it to be surreal.