Friday, August 31, 2007

Unfulfilled ......

I could almost sense, your
scent wafting through my room ...
In strive to slake my thirst
of noon, I sauntered through
unsuspected silence of the gloom.

I am almost always benumbed
of sensations and your touch ......
I summoned once to your presence
in my ever lasting naivety …..
a thousand roses .... with thorns.

The broken rainbow of milky opal
yearns for coeval pearly moonlit night ....
As I look out of my window today,
alas! I realise, unlike the red gold of a
sunstone, I always .... had failed to shine.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Feudalistic fate ...

thousand scenes of pillages
lay fallen, secured
in the hands of
marauding band ….

in the mirage of his
prospective dream,
the farmer hoes his field ….
in brandish glare of the sun.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

Recoinage ....

I
With impudence I lived
always like a famished man, for
lashings of liquor, were routinely
emulsified in compulsive time, but …
with a hatchet in their words succinct
they acted as my tireless prohibitionists.

II
Experience does have a pseudonym in time
it passes on in the memories enshrined,
they have been telling me
the selections needed a change,
for everything that they could pass on
had long ago, been successfully ensconced.

I now have a few selections more
for I did finally change …
I changed my bookcase old.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Yearning ....

a single branch of hawthorn
gropes across the bushes ...
scouring for the miniate
summer sky above,

my eyes looked on indecently

awakened in the emblazoned pond
was a lonesome yellow lily .....
indiscreetly floating around.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Sinned .......

I
Disorganised confetti covers the floors, turgid voices
runs with the equine speed, distances are covered
in memories and leaps with serpentine ease,
my mind serves its purpose understood, and
keeps the silence in its anacoluthon speech.

My intentions lay willingly obtuse,
undiscerning in the neon light ….
numinous structures formed and dissolved,
coloured by discriminated opinions
of a mirror, with connoisseur’s eyes.

II
The voices grates inside my mind,
what logic applies to soul, when
heart has it own path, parallel in might
but, it seldom listens and always cries
irrespective of pleasures or sadness derived.

Inner shame has no audience to understand
serves the purpose of an obloquy for a lifetime,
in the illegitimate scuffle of two sounds
I tried a couple of times, but rather failed, as if destined ...
as if burdened by my own libel, therein assigned.

III

I must hasten to collect the pieces that lie, assemble
them one-by- one, and repent if I must, to survive,
seeking forgiveness is a foregone conclusion, but I have to try ....
if required for the umpteenth time, for tugged in the summer sheath
is my absolute sin and the carcass of my conscience, that hath died.

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Breaking free ...

I
Unrestricted winds blew carelessly
unbarred, over his frivolous illusions,
demanding no space, giving none
ever so unaware, though he wanted some.

His eyes looked far, somewhere
for sustenance of his life, - solemn and wide
he looked on, beyond those visible nights.

II
Amidst carved clay of human conscience
diaphanous senses passed his perceptions,
clothed in black aura, he couldn't but realise
the impalpable irony of their evident mind.

Intellectual affections were always
far and between, a search unbothered
for someone had been there, before him.

Un-ornamenting allures of intonations, drew
him ever so precisely without intention,
draped in dusty chambers were sown
mollusk fossils of all his insinuations.

III
He had always lamented, ever more so now,
at structures that gave shapes, are now dying
for definitions that were always in place.

The felony of facts he had always thought
were imbibed in theology craving for naught,
his search was never edifying rationality
for in every reason’s structure, was a sense of morbidity.

In the far crevices of his brain, lurking somewhere
was the dark, welcomed always as unspecified, unhindered rains,
by barren lands turned into graves, by the sun’s unrelenting rage.

He shrugged his attired wishes, casually as ever
for he had always known, he had to accept it someday,
the reprehensible corners of his imaginations, will never
yearn for form, which will always remain, abstracted.

Monday, August 13, 2007

For You ....

I am the ambiguous twilight of the morning sun,
You are the personified glory of the scarlet dawn;

I am the onerous frustration of a sinned life,
You are the torch of solace, condoning my crimes;

I am the invertebrate demeanor of an inconclusive mind,
You are the cognition, evolved through the nemesis of time;

I am the reasons behind the up-roared nonsensical twaddle each time,
Your are the sense and significance behind reasons defined;

I am the recoiled torpor, amidst constant tiredness revived,
You are the blessing of concurrent inspiration to survive;

I am the uninitiated, unspoken silence of the night,
You are the grammar of my speech ever so refined;

I am the dead, buried in soil, waiting for my judgment denied,
You are the epitaph, commemorating my reasons for existence sufficed;

It hasn’t been always, that I had told you enough, but I hope you know,
You brought meaning to my life, long before it could be proclaimed sine die.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Inconsequentiality …

the infrequent rage of clouds
seldom bears the teeth of rain,
caricatures are often equipped with
breathing, mocking delight in all shallowness
the shoal of triviality craves un-seriousness
and cries aloud for everyone to listen ….
sometimes, beneath the foil of consequences
inconsequential too has a life, worth remembrance.

Friday, August 10, 2007

Persuasion ...

In the hearth of my beliefs,
anchored …..
are chains of your thoughts,
secured …..
in zealous distraught,
is my heart
inflamed in a sconce, with
parhelic sun looking on ...
smiling ever so slyly,
partis pris of my wretched plight,
Alas! ……
visible to none, other than me.

My ignorant mind
in unborne sleep ….
and my heart wreathes
in nascent dreams ….
empyreal feelings immortalized ….
by unknown, unrealized ....
precipitated glance of thee;
walk with me for a mile ....
if not more,
and after that who cares,
your shoes will be mine and
my heart, yours decree.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Insubstantiality …..

Imaginative indulgence more often
bears naught, silence of mind amidst
tableau of emotive affairs
and myriads of conniption .....
looks only for failures,
for reasons beyond recognition;

Hopes, wishes and desires, all
orphans of unrequited ardor, resurrects
all that you had passed, intentionally
without thought or even a consideration .....
worth, for the millions of dollars
the pauper had contemplated and lost;

In the mired slugfest of unrelenting intentions
I look no further for your illicit ostentations
as portentous as it is, of unnerving
unsatisfying, embellished illusions
I choose you to have your way
as I lie here, with un-solicited recollections.

Monday, August 6, 2007

Rain

inseminated clouds, looms large over my head
as bleached sun slowly fades into oblivion,
insolent beads of raindrops, trickles down the leaf tops,
heralding winds caresses my skin, with bubbles drawing
their first impression on the placid lake, the hostile summer
bereaves the lost child as monsoon happily flutters by.

Rain has something magical about it, never failing to inspire, never tiring and ever reticent of hidden dreams. I have missed the best season back home in Mumbai, this year. The Monsoon. Even as I used to walk through the muddled water spread across several patches in the walkway of my colony, the slightest form of disappointment ever failed to crease my forehead; it instead filled me with childish exuberance. My bemired shoe, wet shirt and dripping hair all welcomed rain with an unknown ecstasy that is difficult to explain. If anything else, the loss of unpredictable, intermittent and ever always impregnated clouds, fills the heart with a taste of reminiscence. My friends have been telling me that it is raining quiet heavily back home this year and as I look at the barren clouds passing by from my apartment here in Hong Kong, I cannot but wish, if only for once, in a hurry or rush I could assume wings of air, fly for one day and then be back to work again on the next. But alas! seldom does reality know, it can shape no wings like those of dreams ....

Sunday, August 5, 2007

Missive

Ineligible but intransient ……
……… fostering reminiscence
split into thousand boxes ……
thoughts after thoughts …….
bits and pieces scattered across
………... Memories …………
…. woven in gossamer sheets
tepid in far corners of thy heart
perspicuous in scarlet ideation
reticent of saccharine spiels
with drops of honey,
splattered on floor ……..
this sunny afternoon …….
undesired unheeded feelings
………………….. house no more
do write again …………………..
I will be waiting by the door ....

Thursday, August 2, 2007

Fiend ....

I fear dreams sometime
dreams that make you dream again
of the broken shafts, rivers and inspired sun .......

I wait, I long, I nurture a dream of nightmare
the silent apparition and juxtaposed howls
of black sins and winful voodoo without a grin .......

I crave for empty bowls and glass full of liquor
for the piece of reality and obscured pleasure
hath begot in unstated unsecured minds .......

I plead for ignorance of the blissful mercy
in my enjoyable state of aphoristically blatant lies
with contradiction and demurred prescription ......

I refuse ablution of my unreligious sins
for I want to lie uncovered in the decayed crypt
and wait for my turn in merciful hell .......

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Be mine .....

As I hold in my hand the specious ring,
under the impregnated clouds and the vestige of moon
I ask for a moment’s indulgence, to be on my knees
for the night can now go on, I have the stars’ decree …