So...

well, maybe there's a god above
but all i've ever learned from love
was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you
it's not a cry that you hear at night
it's not somebody who's seen the light
it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

hallelujah...

Moved.....finally!

Saturday night in a wasted life

How many wakes may I hold
For a feeling long since passed
Its all the same, the fragmented sky

The acrid smell of smoked rye
Only the whiskey tastes a lil dry
For I am a poet doncha know it

The vanity of a rhymester
The talent of a Trollope
I am a poet doncha know it

Hold on tight; don’t let the moment pass
This one and so many like it
Its all just banal and crass

Why should I wonder
After all its all just a blunder
All my being bent on plunder

For I am a poet doncha know it
The vanity of a rhymester
The talent of a Trollope

Goodbye Lucifer

This tiresome life, it must end today
The existence of enlightenment must die
Give me, oh knight, the pleasure of ignorance
On this day, I pledge to thy everlasting joy

I am ready to revel in the opium of faith
Will surrender the mind and follow the blind
I cease to exist except as a member of thy ministry
If only you Promise to never let me think again

For I have tasted the forbidden fruit
Believed in Lucifer for so long
I am ready to return to the fold
If only you would increase your hold

Ghost of Christmas

A few broken bottles, still loitering in the yard
Crumpled sheets of newsprint; flyways
Scattered weeds, some flowers stoutly remain
Hark; the cries, infrasound

Rotting in the sun the stepped on carcass of a lizard
Abstract painting, stark on a mottled canvas
Ghostly somnolence in the air
Muffled screams of shattered dreams

Testimony to a past nobody remembers
Shades of violet fading into gray
Outward aggregation all happy and gay
Shadows in my mind; fears arched behind

Ignored by you, untended by me
Languishing in neglect
The visual in ice
And the ruins swept up by time,

All swept up by time.

How To Save A Life

Step one: you say we need to talk, he walks, you say sit down it's just a talk.

He smiles politely back at you, you stare poiltely

right on through.

Some sort of window to your right

As he goes left and you stay right

Between the lines of fear and blame

And you begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend

Somewhere along in the bitterness

And I would have stayed up with you all night

Had I known how to save a life

Let him know that you know best

Cause after all you do know best

Try to slip past his defense

Without granting innocence

Lay down a list of what is wrong

The things you've told him all along

And pray to God he hears you

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend

Somewhere along in the bitterness

And I would have stayed up with you all night

Had I known how to save a life

As he begins to raise his voice

You lower yours and grant him one last choice

Drive until you lose the road

Or break with the ones you've followed

He will do one of two things

He will admit to everything

Or he'll say he's just not the same

And you'll begin to wonder why you came

Toe the line?

Resisted the urge, there is no thorn in this rose,
Stared down the fiery ball in the sky, it isn’t the only truth
Derided the scorn, for belief is supreme I suppose
Posited against the obvious, logic may not always be sooth

Jaded and flogged, it held its form
Evidence never marred or held sway
Atrophied and worn, never evoked the norm
All cynicism and worldliness kept at bay

Yet, its raining acid once again,
Seeping into old scars, burning some anew
Carcasses of thought strewn around in pain
Bleached bones of trust are all that’s left in lieu

A Boundless Moment

He halted in the wind, and -- what was that
Far in the maples, pale, but not a ghost?
He stood there bringing March against his thought,
And yet too ready to believe the most.

"Oh, that's the Paradise-in-bloom," I said;
And truly it was fair enough for flowers
had we but in us to assume in march
Such white luxuriance of May for ours.

We stood a moment so in a strange world,
Myself as one his own pretense deceives;
And then I said the truth (and we moved on).
A young beech clinging to its last year's leaves.

Robert Frost

Requiem

Whose ideals, whose principles and whose dreams,
We have tread on them all and covered up our tracks
The roasted prunes, the empty cans, the stories in reams
Its all sanded down and nudged up in the extreme

Blaze of glory, streaks of brightness and paths of innovation
Untouched by hypocrisy, unbidden by expediency
The lives and loves, all unsullied, uninhibited imagination
Documented and proven, it’s all frozen and still in its prime

The stench of failure, does not threaten us.
Not for us the tedium of numbing boredom
The threat of tragedy passes us idly by
The pain of parting as the bard, is only such sweet sorrow

For...

Fearless and bold we have travelled the Roads less taken
Oh, my love what a time it was
We have pushed the boundaries, tested the limits and busted the clichés
We have had our run and oh, what a time it was

Free as a bird on the wing....

Got the Bob Dylan blues
And the Bob Dylan shoes
And my clothes and my hair's in a mess

But you know I just couldn't care less

Gonna write me a song 'bout what's right and what's wrong
Got God and my girl and all that
Quiet while I make like a cat

Cause I'm a poet, doncha know it
And the wind you can blow it
Cause I'm Mr. Dylan the king
And I'm free as a bird on the wing

Roam from town to town, get to get people down
But I don't care too much about that
Cause my gut and my wallet are fat

Make a whole lot of dough but i deserve it though
I got soul and a good heart of gold
So I'll sing about war and the cold

Cause I'm a poet, doncha know it
And the wind you can blow it
Cause I'm Mr. Dylan the king
And I'm free as a bird on the wing

Well I sings about dreams and I rhymes it with seams
Cause it seems that my dream always means
That I can prophesy all kinds of things

Well the guy that digs me
Should try hard to see
That he buys all my discs in a hat.
And when I'm in town go see that.

Cause I'm a poet, doncha know it
And the wind you can blow it
Cause I'm Mr. Dylan the king
And I'm free as a bird on the wing

Ode To The Id

Dear Friend,

Yes you, who have, often been absent. You, who has wandered off at the first possible sign of trouble. You, who I desire despite your repeated betrayals.

I was happiest with you and the saddest without. With you the vibrance so often witnessed has degenerated into a cacophony that everybody doubts.

I have missed your calming presence and your steadying influence. Confused and hungry I have been parched alas too long. I smudged the distinction between patience and abomination.

My steps, so unyielding when with you, have turned upon themselves and stayed immobile for so long. Unhurried and staid, I have lost the desire to get anywhere.

For I am nothing without you, a coaxed human being without the spirit to live. You have taken the best years of my life with you. For only when you were around did I live at all.

I hope you are back this time. I glimpsed you awhile and I am hoping you will stay. For with you around, I can take off from the ground, knowing you will be there to gather me when I go into free fall.

Mouthful of cavities
Your souls a bowl of jokes
And everyday you remind me
How I'm desperately in need

See, I got a lot of fiends around
And they're peaking through nothing new
They see you
They see everything you do

See everything on the inside, out

Oh, please give me a little more
And I'll push away those baby blues
Cause one of these days this will die
So will me and so will you

I write a letter to a friend of mine
I tell him how much I used to love watch him smile

See I haven't seen him smile in a little while

Haven't seen him smile in a little while

But, I know you're laughing from the inside out
Laughin' from the inside out
I know you're laughing from the inside out
Laughing from the inside
From the inside
From the inside
From the inside
From the inside out

Blind Melon
 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2WMY-n9MF6o

Today We Shall Eat

A surprise day off (elections in Haryana).

Even the gym is closed.
Endless sermons from the Professor (my mom).
Mr. New Guy raising hairy questions (he talks a lot anyways, so day off had nothing to do with it)
Wrong time of the month almost here.
And
An epiphany

Yeah, quite a lot to take on what should have been a really peaceful laid back holiday.
More on that later. I am sure the 2.2 readers that I have managed to collect are dying to hear about the epiphany. I will present it in the following format:

O lord grant me the eternal right to eat what I want
To eat what I want
And still be able to wear what I want

Grant me today the eternal happiness
That only comes with essential fatty(ness)
Let me partake of thy largesse
Let me o Lord Let me

O lord hear this today
On a holiday
Please let me eat
Without regret, disgust or fear!

So I cook myself 2 packs of instant noodles, pack on a few sachets of tomato soup and round that off with some excellent chocolate cookies! Switch on the TV for the first time in days to find “The Unit” being shown by Star World. Hmm, life has suddenly taken on a new hue. Almost.

"when the devil wants you to do something, he doesn't lie at all. He tells you the exact, literal truth. And he lets you find your own way to hell"

Daivd Easterman in Sandman

It was one of those jolly, peaceful mornings that make a fellow wish he'd got a soul or something...

Me: So what is it?
Aforementioned Soul (A.S): How the hell do I know?
Me : But thats your job
AS: Ah, but I dont exist, remember?
Me: Cmon, you know what I mean, its too soon!
AS: Despite myself, have to smack you on the head! Just shuddup and enjoy it!
Me: Yeah well, but you can't teach an old dog new tricks. You know me, I always take time....
AS: Aaargh..("Her voice trailed away in a sigh that was like the wind blowing through the cracks in a broken heart")


With apologies to Sir PG.

Death of a Poet

We have to kill her
I know, but she refuses to die, I have tried everything.

What all have you tried?
Sprayed her brains over the back wall, she patiently gathered the tissue and brought it whole again. A gruesome result but living nevertheless. Ground her heart to a fine powder dust, she collected everything and kneaded it back to life. Mistrust, harsh words, broken promises and indifference I have tried it all. She still just keeps coming back for more.

Hmmm, what about banality? You tried that?
No. How do I do that?

Simple, she has illusions of grandeur, doesn’t she? Let’s dole out the ordinary. She won’t be able to withstand being treated like the lowest common denominator. Take all she is giving, acknowledge it, respect it, be grateful even and then pretend its not worth anything at all.

What's the novelty in that?

Novelty lies in the fact that she never thinks it could happen to her. She thinks she will die in pools of glory and blazes of color. Her end spawning a legion of thought in a million  minds. She will never guess that she can be left to waste away in obscurity. Just a number on a list, unclaimed and undistinguished. After all, what is so new about a man sleeping with a girl and forgetting to call?