Silent Mind and the Midday Shade

The words were always there.

Laid out

And arranged

Like the gleaming silver cutlery

On the pressed linen tablespread.

Surgically sterile

Tools to cut,

Slice,

Chop,

Tear,

Stir,

Scoop,

And dish out

Reality in more palatable

Versions of the truth.

They were blunt in their sharpness.

But they were always there.

I never thought of them.

Never repeated them

A hundred-and-twenty-two times

Each day

As I scrubbed myself down with soap.

They were always there,

Dancing,

Even before the thoughts

Remained unthought of.

Like the shadows

Dancing on the tablecloth

As the trees romanced with the midday sun.

As if that shadow play

Had started much before

I was called over for lunch.

Or maybe even before the sun even rose today.

The mist of memories

Fall down as worded raindrops

And spill ink

Into a dictionary of incoherence.

I sat in the shade

Of that redundant romance

And saw a rainbow

Staining the midday sky.

Lacing my shoes

I wished
The light night breeze would carry,
Softly swaddled,
The scent of your hair
Through the thickness of the air.
I wished
The words you dropt,
Casually strewn,
Would turn the black asphalt
Into a clear starry sky.
I wished
The air was as liquid,
And feather-light,
That it may blow off
My thoughts, hopes and memories.
But my shoelaces
Are entangled,
And I trip and fall
And wake up bruised.
The air was thicker
Than the blood on my arm,
As it spoke to me,
A voice deafeningly calm -
Ain't it better that you walk alone?
It better 'cause
The air ain't thicker
When you wont take away my breath.
The wind blows softer
Not ODing on crystal meth.
At least
Though i trip on my laces,
I dont fall over the words
You left on the ground...

Arial Black

{Tragedy is like rocket science. Quite (cry)ogenic it is.}

{Silence. I am listening to hear the fan swear.}

{Safety pin, they call it. Only pricks prick!!}

{Arial Black. Poseidon White.}

{sin sin sin sin sin x. Trigonometric damnation.}

{Elephants have big ears 'cause they can't close their eyes with their hands.}

{Peekaboo... Fuck you too!!}

{Silence. Telepathic message sent. Yeah, so what were you telling me?}

{Cant you see the full-stop?! Or do you expect anything more??}

{There it is. The Full Stop.}

Remebrances of a conversation that floated away with the wind

I remember the stone steps that led up the cliff.

I remember the drone of the sea.

I remember the sun drowning itself and spilling its vermilion blood all over the sea.

I remember the sky trying to be too many colours and moods at once.

I remember the grey-pink waves turning into white froth as they crashed head-first onto the rocks below.

I remember the wind carrying whispered secrets from the waves to the hills.

I remember the wisps of smoke trailing from my lit cigarette.

I remember the wind eating up the smoke, and blowing her hair onto her face.

Her hair... I remember the sun turning her black strands of hair gold by magic alchemy.

I remember how her delicate fingers tucked her locks behind her ears.

I remember that her ears looked transparently pink, and reminded me of a conch in cross-section.

I remember how the sun glistened on her lips as each word floated gently with the wind.

I remember that the wind took the words away from me.

Words strewn in the wind.

I was too engrossed watching as the words dissected themselves.

I saw the syllables float off alone, the lone letter suspended in animation, twirling and soaring up and beyond.

I remember smiling.

The voice of disinterest.

Mundane talk.

Talking because the silence is too unnerving.

Because we think the silence is unknowing.

Scattering words, hoping it will fill the couple of metres of space between us.

Nevertheless, it was silent; except for the drone of the sea, as the waves whispered secrets to the hills.

Gall bladder

Listen to my voice.

Yeah the vicious screech you hear at the back of your head.

Noise.

Static in the radio station.

Hear it.

Try to listen to it, rather than tuning into another channel.

Can you hear the words?

I cant hear them myself.

I spat them out in such spite.

Such anger and frustration.

No one tunes into noise anyway.

And no one can tell channels apart if there was

No noise in between.

I am not philanthropic.

I do not claim to be a bluddy Messiah.

I am so selfish i keep my words to myself,

While i tune into FM stations.

And when i do speak,

It comes out

Unpractised

Garbled words.

They forsake me.

Cheats.

And i scream out

'Cause i cannot cry.

The screech.

Its drilling through my ears.

Its too sharp

Sharp as cut glass

And clear

In spite of all the disturbance.

Pain.

Tune it.
Tune out.

Switch off.

My channel doesnt have any audience rating.

Hush, said the clouds...

Secrets are not meant to be spoken out loud. We whisper them to ourselves, in that dreadful conspiratorial tone that reeks of self-sedition. Truth which breaks the constitution of our existence. Dark secrets. Those chapters half written, and given up, because they had too much of truth to stay in that diary of lies that makes up our lives. We keep those pages to ourselves 'cause only a few can even decipher the scraggy scrawny handwriting that came out in a few frenzied moments of furious clairvoyance.

I tried shouting my secrets out to the sky. The world didn't stop to listen. They were half-writing pages on their diaries while my pages, with all their scraggy words, fanned and fluttered in the wind and were shat and spat and scattered across random pavements across the globe. Footprints and dusty shoemarks over yellowed paper and curvy blue letters.

Only the clouds heard me. It rained. The blue letters melted away and trickled down the drains...

One for the sake of it...

Yeah.. My blogs going dead. And i cant let that happen. So heres one for the sake of it. An adrenaline shot straight to the heart. Come outta the OD, you bluddy junkie!!

So what do i tell you now??

Overcast skies.

The Earth closes its eyes.

Refuses to see.

The warmth.

Its cold.

My fingernails pain.

Tap my foot.

Rhythm goes wrong.

Its cold.

Subcutaneous sweat.

AIR RAID AIR RAID!!

Silence.

Painful.

Wasn't so.

Tries to speak.

Whimper.

Plead.

I hear my own voice in the silence.

No reply.

All lines are busy. Please call again later.

Click.

The Sun still shines.

Stupid Sun.

Wise Sun.

Wait, says the Sun,

Wait for the wind.

Big words in my small head...

{I am an agnostic. And God doesn't know whether i exist either.}
{Why does the window rattle so?}
{It's not asthma. The air just got thicker.}
{Funkedelia....!!}
{The veritable signs of existence}
{An altered sense of being}
{There are rainbows, and unicorns and pretty blue stars on the wall. You just have to look hard enough.}
{Air raid!! Air raid!!}
{Watch the raindrop draw its line of fate down the windowpane.}
{Windowpane or Window Pain?}
{The magic words, i say...}
{I want to be a fish, 'cause i want to know how it feels to sleep underwater.}
{Mind-tweaking phenomena..!!}
{Yeah yeah}
{Why wake up just 'cause the dream is over..}
{No. It wasn't the earphones which played the music. It was always playing in your head.}

Bookmark

So here goes...
The page was screaming to be marked. Its bold letters each climbing up a decibel until it reached that unbearable crescendo. The final symphony of pain. And relief. The note slips. The orchestra goes awry. And the stick falls from the conductors hand as he collapses to the ground in the ordeal of cacophonic creation (or was it recreation?!). Freeze... Bookmark...
The letters stare at me. They each pose a question. And they sink their gruesome stare right into my heart, like a thousand silent daggers. Smooth and soft. It doesn't hurt. Just a warmth. Or is it the blood seeping out through my wounds?! Freeze... Bookmark...
I stare at the page. It is innocent. It is silent. But its innocence and silence which poses the most disturbing of questions. You cannot answer to innocence. And you make your own questions up in silence. The words run around my head in dizzying circles. In a whirlpool of thought. Interstellar verbal orbiting. Freeze... Bookmark...
I was scared to mark the page. Condemn it to memory. Afraid i ll remember the page number and the odd tear halfway down the right edge everytime i flip past it. Condemn it to familiarity. Tag it as special. And yet never be sure, whether it was so exceptional after all. Or whether it was a moment's fancy, or a passing glimmer of hopeful fear.
A faint breeze catches the page, and it rustles in mid-air. My fingers still rest on its torn edge. Freeze...
I never use bookmarks. I just remember the page numbers.

Words on a String

This might as well have been the title of my blog. Some randomness tied together with the flagrant hope of bringing out some amount of cohesion and comprehension. Trying to make sense out of this petty madness we all live and call life. Funky shite, i tell you...
So here goes my first post!! Major achievement, if you ask me... And this one's all about why i love living through this madness. Why i love trying to make sense and failing time and again and yet hopefully going for another try.
I love life because its beautiful. Its got that poignant beauty of thinks that wont last for long, like snowflakes and mayflies... Things that melt away or disappear, like a whiff of fancy.
I love life because we alone can live ours. How much ever people try to take it away from us, we can still hold it within our little hands and hold it out to the sun. Warm it up a bit. Or hide it in our mitts when it gets cold and wintry.
I love life, most of all, because every moment in it is unique. Every moment you live belongs to yourself 'cause you gave birth to it. And it would certainly not have existed without you, or outside of you. Life and all its moments stay with you and within you. Prolly its the only thing that very truly belongs to you.
I love life because i can still feel, touch, hear, taste, see and live all that is around me.
I love life 'cause i can smile, laugh, cry, hide my tears, and whisper my fears.
I love life because it hold a promise. A promise you can work out by yourself. I love life 'cause it has a past, a present and a future.
I love life because i try time and again to make sense outta it and never succeed.
So every once in a while, lean back. Take in a breath of air. Breathe in... Breathe out... Lick your lips and taste the air... Its a beautiful world, and every inch and every moment of it belongs to you...
The Semi-Charmed kind of Life we lead... Its funny... It sad... Its happy... Its mad... and above all its always worth living and loving...