Monthly Archives: October 2010

Awkward colored sand

Years ago, the lonely island,
Was calm, amidst the huge waves,
Filled with colored lovely sand.
Living on it together, one evening,
He and I were searching for that
One one-colored butterfly, finding it
On heels we started to fly.
After an awkward chase, amidst sorrows
That swallowed each one’s mind,
With only friendship between us to bind,
Separated we were in the unknown place.
Having lost him, I searched for him, turning,
Perching my each eye at time’s every instant
In every object around me. I searched him
In between the gentle blows of wind,
In the beams of fading orange sun,
I looked for my wonderful friend
Dazed and confused wondering where to find.
Going berserk, tearing leaves apart,
Bathing in scorched roasted evening grains
Of sand, in the grains of this mysterious misery of losing joy,
Losing him, I wished if this whole life was just a decoy!
I tried and cried and my life’s every count dried.
“Oh my dear friend!
I’d be looking for you till my life’s very end.
I’m waiting… with that plain butterfly in my right hand
And it feels cold. With rhythmic laments, I’m growing old!”


To Music

Those gentle swerves poking my nerves,
The melody that remembers my life’s every tragedy,
Yet its pleasant, this feeling of mysterious dent
In my mind, in my heart and in my every part
Making myself prolific.

What profundity You possess, I ponder?
Why do I respect You so much, I wonder?
All disturbances when I listen to You, when I put myself in You,
Don’t they cause in me a heart breaking thunder?
You make me charm like a flowering bud in my farm,
And I forget all my life’s fear.

Don’t You make me rhyme as with You I obsess,
With only known art form I possess?
These words that are felt in because of You, hope they melt in,
With beauty and awe as I listen to You.
One day I’ll take up Your form, losing my life I’ll die in an artistic tomb.
And You’ll be the place I would love to dwell in.

The music of death

Sitting inside the silence, with all noise on earth being swallowed up,
Staring at the rays of loneliness with her eyes getting dried up,
With the moon emerging from within smoke rings flowing into her eyes,
Listening to her horrible sorrow, flying around were mere mute flies.

The wind that enjoyed, in her backyard, the childish ballet of every rose
Stood still all of a sudden humming with her untold life’s remorse.
Filling itself with blood from all veins, her heart beat heavily.
Going numb, her soul enjoyed the charm of a grave melancholy.

The beautiful, the adorable, she, the every merry
Was strangled in the hands of horrid, unjust, corrupt mother nature’s fury
As she had lost her charming treasure, her soul, her dear one.
Bending down slowly, gazing at her nipples one by one-
She felt them, being pulled tasted by her child, her dead only son!

The raging coldness of dark emerged making her every bone brittle
And her cold eyes grew darker in the moon light little by little.
Burning itself down, the cigar reached for her tender fingers, spreading its ash,
That touched the depressed and dying mother’s each eye lash!

Without weeping she was seeking death, in despair
While tasting misery, staying inside the still air.