Sunday, March 27, 2011

Love In The City

Stained sheets of red
Garnished with pieces of flesh
A tangle of entangled hairs
A spot of your dried spit
Two cracked brown nails
And the inescapable insatiable
Stench of your broken body.

Crumpled by my side
Moaning at the moonlight
From cracked windows
A shiver down your spine
Moving at a snail's pace
The blue red of your lips
Arousing my tepid form.

Would they shout murder
Or call it my love affair.

Monday, March 7, 2011

Angel And Angel

Don't cry, my daughter, your Daddy's near
By your side, whispering in your ear.
I know you loved your Mama too much,
But now she's gone. our life is such.
She called you pretty and combed your hair
Watched over you and helped you with the stairs.
I want you to know Daddy loved her too,
Sometimes less but sometimes even more than you.
Now your Mama is gone and Daddy is alone
His eyes are red and hollow is his tone.
Your Mama will always watch over us
Tuck us into bed without any fuss.
Now my daughter, don't you cry
I'll make you smile, till eternity I'll try.
My dearest daughter, you should know
You are like her, cheeks as white as snow.
Your Daddy too remembers her all the time
But he must be strong and sing songs that rhyme.
For he has his little angel to take care of now
Whose smile lights up skies and everyone says 'Wow'.
Hush, little one, don't you cry
Daddy is there by your side.......

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Time To Go

A smile
And a gasp
Stabbed through the heart
The pool of red grows redder
Your lips never seemed fuller.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

A King's Speech

I was born as a King among kings,
And the dust of my bones will also be kingly.
However it is the days between death and birth,
That are full of battles for my own glorious kingdom.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Mis-taken-anthrope

My disappointment with my own life stems from thwarted expectations and excess optimism, both, by the virtue of their existence should render me a misanthrope. However, I must admit, although painfully, that I am not a misanthrope at all. It would both be selfish and pleasurable to be one; to easily escape reality and the wounds it serves now and then, but I cannot be human in my endeavors. I detest mediocrity and therefore I must resist it all costs. Social interaction is a powerful tool, both of failure and of success, the path you choose or rather the path which chooses you depends on the sort of people you meet in life. People make all the difference in the world, they mold your identity as you mold theirs, they influence you as you influence them. It is this symbiotic relationship among two individuals that creates social extensions. However with the advent of technology, these extensions have become extremely complex. The individual is no longer isolated, the gaze of technology is constantly upon him. From facebook to cellphones, people are constantly connected with each other, therefore human emotions and relations have now taken a turn for the worse.

My personal problem with the whole rise of social and technology matrices is that they have almost destroyed the scope for personal interaction. Even genuine personal interaction between two people has remnants of previous aforementioned matrices. The cell phone is the one to blame. An emoticon has substituted real life smiles, a message has replaced words and 'likes' have done away with hugs of appreciation. Wherever the latter exist, they exist with semblances of the past. I, for one, have lost the ability to love or hate completely. I am possibly stuck in a limbo of mixed emotions, of anger and passion, and of love and indifference. These dichotomies are further fueled by the sort of people I meet. Hollow souls and empty minds make one poisonous cocktail and I seem to be surrounded by them. Perhaps I am at fault here, maybe I am asking for too much from this indifferent world of ours but even as I write this, I know I am lying. The world is a beautiful place, full of gentle and intelligent beings; perhaps I've been looking in the wrong places.

The most painful aspect of my life is to see mediocrity effectively mimic greatness. If I could address the face of all the whining,pathetically mediocre people of this world who are dependent upon the producers to sustain themselves; I would say what Carl Panzram said years back, "I wish all mankind had one neck so I could choke it!". Of course the only difference between me and him is that I am after the vultures. Does it not bother them to feed upon others, to wriggle like worms, to suck blood like leeches, to ask and beg, to play with the emotions of the sympathizer and finally move on to other sources of prey. I vehemently refuse to be abused, misused and finally deemed foolish by my own eyes. There will be no "Sanction Of The Victim" when it comes to me, no sacrificial lambs to offer you all. Evil is impotent, it seeks its erection from the rape of the 'good'. I refuse to be your whore, This particular piece of my furious writing stems from anger, I am angry at the fact that 'evil' made me doubt my own self, made me crave for misanthropy in moments of despair and seek shelter from those who are themselves leeches.

As I ask today what was once asked from me; "You have been scorned for all those qualities of character which are your highest pride. You have been called selfish for the courage of acting on your own judgment and bearing sole responsibility for your own life. You have been called arrogant for your independent mind. You have been called cruel for your unyielding integrity. You have been called anti-social for the vision that made you venture upon undiscovered roads. You have been called ruthless for the strength and self-discipline of your drive to your purpose. You have been called greedy for the magnificence of your power to create wealth... Have you stopped to ask them: by what right? - by what code? - by what standard?", I still have no answer, however, I am yet to give up on this world or my own world.