random musings

the hallucinated image

of a wholesome

darkness.

flashing its incandescence,

in the eyes of its unknown ghost

my eyes,

groping for an inkling if its reflection

squirt from here and there…

and rest on the banks,

of a glittering afterthought.

...its only me

and this unfathomable I.

And our eternal hide-and-seek.

...

a half-bloomed flower,

washed away moon.

weary night.

and a completed me.

An ode to life

On the crude pages of the flirting life,

lie some thumbprints

of a moment's poetry.

In the indulgence of this breath,

are breathed,

some sublime clouds of beyond-life.

Somewhere in the girth

of this incidental existence,

lies a pearl

of perfect anonymity,

that smears its manifestations

in the misty catacombs of abstraction.

and in the definite heart-throb of the concrete.

And thus,

my being is thrilled,

with the joy

that erupts in the birth of creation...

When the diligence of craft,

meets the spontaneity of art...

Insight

Into

some scattered breaths

of bygone moments…

Into

The abyss of broken imagination.

I delve myself,

and drown in their fantasy.

What is real?

And what unreal?

I cross the boundaries of existence

And realize, that there were none.

In the flow of wanton life,

I gather the deathliness of it all.

and the oncoming darkness,

brings with it,

The joy of non-existence,

or the existence of joyless ecstasy?

Guide me….O lord….

to that place,

where I shall close my eyes,

……and see.

A rendezvous with repentance

The night

Spilled a thousand scars,

Bathed in its moonlight

Of indifferent repentance.

Wept its heart out

In the broken song

Of the fluttering night-crickets.

Poured out its grand sorrow

In the wisdom-sparks of its stars.

Flaunted its agony

In the flamboyance of the ocean.

It had its moment of glory,

A rendezvous with repentance…

When I was fast asleep

In a dreamless sleep.

And now,

As I wake up,

Why do I feel

That the morning light today

Is peeping stealthily,

Like the subtle silence

Of a half-hearted poem

Aware of its beauty,

But Unaware of its own delight.

Aware of its grandeur,

But unaware of its painful roots….