I Want...

(Picture Courtesy: A Jailed Man)

I want to sing,
Drink fragrant wine...
Hunt game in forests,
Make it all mine...

I want to love,
Beauties ethereal as clouds...
Whose whispers set one free,
Even from fear of shrouds...

I want to touch,
The lips of their wraiths...
Who'd visit me at night,
Light passions and leave scathes...

I want to scale,
The peak of Everest...
Elburz-Mont Blanc,
See the sun rise- then forever rest...

I want to melt,
In golden dusk...
That floods the sky,
'n' intoxicates like musk...

I want to hold,
The lightning and thunder...
That make this storm,
And hath me wonder...

I want to yield,
To sirens who seduce...
Freeze Monos in paths,
Their resolve who reduce...

I want to play,
The shepherd's pipe
Converse with angels,
Tell them every gripe...

I want to battle,
Win wars and survive...
Make new kingdoms,
Have the dead revive...

And once all is done,
I want to wither...
Spread like ash,
'n' never come back hither...


Babble
=======
1. Wishes, horses and beggars.... hah!

2. Different emotions at play:
delusion, dreams, frustration, agony, love and detachment.
If only I had to the luxury of elaborating why each of these emotions make it to the lines above.

3. After having read "The Bet" for the umpteenth time in the past decade(reserved for cold windy nights with preferably a slight drizzle and an anxious heart), I felt it to be a moral responsibility to actually create rhyme out of the crux of the Banker's letter. Not that rhyme was needed... very few prosaic pieces rhyme. The Lawyer's letter defnitely does. Think of it as me attempting a lame rendition.

A more curious you can find the story at
http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/Bet.shtml
(The Bet - Anton Chekhov)

4. Monos stand for Monomyths. This is not my invention but someone long back actually addressed me with this epithet(rightly or wrongly) - so the feeling stuck on.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monomyth

5. And yes, I mean it when I say "Have the dead revive..." :)

A Little Night Music

(Picture Courtesy: Mozart + website in pic)


There are nights,
To revel and wonder,
And split asunder,
Days of yore-
That bore the thunder...

And these are nights,
To delve down under,
To mine and plunder,
Moments long lost-
Which rocks did sunder...


Then you drink,
The wine of life,
To ignore this strife,
Intoxicate yourself-
'N dream of afterlife...

...this while humming the tune,
The conductor's pick,
The sway of his stick,
To flutter your heart-
...Just A Li'l Night Music...

Babble

------------

1. Old Memories Revision Night. As a rule I dont keep any souvenirs...but memories are different.

2. Eine kleine Nachtmusik(A Little Night Music) - Without doubt(statement) Mozart had it figured out centuries back. The single piece of music I like most. You really should youtube the video and see the conductors performing this particular piece. Its a heavenly act. Better heard in the dead of night. Best heard in the dead of night while reminiscing.

3. "rocks of time". Yet another demonisation of time. I'm not the first and defnitely not the last.

4. Dreaming of afterlife doesnt necessarily have suicidal connotations in case it got you wondering ;)

A Tale of Sobriety

(Picture Courtesy: In the picture)


He loved crimson,
She loved flames-
They formed a picture,
Without any frames...

He loved sonnets,
She loved rhyme-
They formed a verse,
Transcending all time...

He loved nights,
She loved stars...
They dreamt of galaxies,
Became queens and czars...

He loved to write,
She loved to read...
And when she wrote,
It hath him bleed...

(...and because its twists that make life interesting)

So He lived bereft,
She lived all drunk-
Both intoxicated,
With hopes but sunk...

Babble
======
1. Yeah Yeah... I know what you're thinking...
2. Try visualizing in an IMAX kind of way to revel more.
3. I wonder how many such stories exist. The starry eyed Hes and Shes...
4. Humans are a doomed race. Period.

Pop! Goes the Weasel...

(Picture Courtesy: Who else but Lord Google)

Every day I yearn for thee,
Every day I mumble...
Thats the way moments flow,
Pop! goes the weasel...

Every night I chase a ghost,
Every night I fumble...
Its nothing but your afterglow,
Pop! goes the weasel...

Here I am in all this show,
Here I am in crumble...
Thats because I feel so low,
Pop! goes the weasel...

There they say its all a game,
There they often grumble...
Thats because their minds are slow,
Pop! goes the weasel...

One by one they went away,
Leaving but a rumble...
Its desert wind that now does blow,
...And Pop! goes the weasel...


Babble
========
1. Obviously because you've reached this far so you are willing to entertain the idea that theres a remote possibility of the lines having some sane meaning. Congratulations! They do.

2. Furthermore, because you've reached this far so you are willing to entertain the idea that I'll shed some light on the theme. Well... of course I'll shed two lights because there are two themes...intertwined like a DNA double helix... Like this:

Sorry, thats how my twisted mind imagines things :)

3. "You take the color and shape of your surroundings" - someone told me aeons ago. Actually I've been honing these chameleon skills for quite some time now. So the long silence.

4. Moreover- Life happens. Weird things happen.  Weird people happen. Time happens too ;)

5. And if you are wondering whats up with this weasel business... so heres a link:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pop_Goes_the_Weasel

... to confuse you further :)))

(p.s. Actually I've loved this rhyme since childhood...loved it more after reading it during my Sidney Sheldon days in Tell Me Your Dreams...and now loving it more and more while looking at the overcast sky through my window. It will rain.)

6. La la la ♪ ♪ ♪

Half a pound of tuppenny rice,
Half a pound of treacle.
Mix it up and make it nice,
Pop! goes the weasel....

Dark Of The Moon

(Picture Courtesy: PVR in one of his moments of brilliance ;) )

Far away from glitter and stare,
In this realm where eyes do not fare...
Awake me not from this dream -
For I sleep deep - and unaware...


In this dark out here,
In the unseen of this sphere...
Search me not from far away -
For I live lost - and survive mere...


But this dark hath the real me,
Untainted, unsmeared, frivolous and free..
Judge me not from what I seem -
For I could be that - or none what you see...


And in this obscure I roam,
In this melancholy I swoon...
And its here I wait for you -
...On this dark side of the moon.



Babble
=======
1. A very enlightening piece of conversation seeded this poem

---- 8X ----

Me: Ye meet me on the dark side of the moon kiske liye hai?

PVR: moon is a person's personality
what is glittery is what the world sees
what is dark is what no one bothers to explore
meet me on the dark side of the moon means the real person is waiting there
go and meet him

---- X8 ----

Its interesting how some thoughts just touch a chord(if you decide to reflect on them... or perhaps even spend a moment inside them)

2. Although "Dark of the Moon" appears to be straight out of La Melancholia - it is not. It just epitomizes the fact that we are all, in fact, two people - the glittery and the dark, if you will. Certainly nothing to mourn about. Its what balances us with the world outside.

3. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I'm already feeling repulsive at writing such sentimental pieces now a days. I really really really need to do one of the following:
a) Get a life
b) Go to sleep
c) Get a life
d) Go watch Sherlock Holmes.

I choose the last. Elementary... isn't it? ;)

Liberation

(Picture Courtesy: My mind with that bone-of-a-thought)

There was a thought,
A tiny one -
A web that spun,
Like a hideous blot...

There was that thought,
It pinched and gnawed -
And scratched and clawed...
To instigate a rot...

And Oh! this thought,
It took my peace,
And skinned my fleece...
With a beastly shot...

I killed that thought,
For it hath my mind,
And made me blind...
Like a man distraught...

Now there aint't no thought,
So I live serene,
Guiltless and keen...
...And happily trot!


Babble
=======
1. *evil laughter* Yes, murder can be fun at times ;)

2. Did you ever have a nagging thought that persisted and persisted and just didnt want to go away? It took away a lot of your mental cycles and didnt give back anything in return. A 'Yes' in answer indicates that you have passed/are passing your very own Quarter Life Crisis with flying colors ;) Unfortunately, we all have to - sorry!

3. I also realized that I'm not as invincible in fending away these thoughts as much as I'd like to believe. (...Which further reminds me that I'm still nowhere :D )

4. Regardless of the rant that I barf in a lot of my writings, its fun to look at oneself from a second-person point of view.

5. ...and regardless of the pathetically sentimental sounding last line, I'm still laughing that evil laugh I started a while back ;)

Tempus Fugit

(Picture courtesy: Google, obviously.)


Mountains to move,
Many storms to quell...
In ruthless times,
Where failures dwell...

Tentative mind on a perilous dock,
And 'Tempus Fugit!' sayeth the clock...


A journey so drawn,
Such enduring a path...
In waters unknown,
This vast a swath...

The voyage endeth beyond that rock,
But 'Tempus Fugit!' sayeth the clock...


There are times,
When hope doth dwindle...
In wickedest of ways,
Like nefarious a swindle...

Then urge to break, so vicious this lock,
And "Tempus Fugit!" chimeth the clock...


Babble
========
1. I'm back! :)

2. I can still write!! :)

3. I'm still the same gloomy me !!! :)

4. Tempus Fugit = Time flies, first mentioned
by Virgil in Georgics. But of course reading
Georgics is too mundane. If you're an X-Files fanatic
like me, then you'll immediately recognise the episode.

5. Back to serious things, if you've ever wanted
to do a lot of things in life and fell short of
doing them, then this poem is for you! Imagine life as
a journey with an hourglass by your side where every
grain that trickles is a jiffy less that you get to
realize your dreams.... *blah* *blah* *blah*

6. *I slap myself for my moment of vulnerability in (5)* *another slap* *I wake up*

7. ... and life goes on.