DWELING

Saturday, January 29, 2011

idle

If I could stop the rain and harbor myself to the shore, begging the tides to wash me gently by the sunrises and the sunsets and if I could bring myself closer to see your tears shining in the moonlight,
preaching lies
with your eyes
while I, prayed for you..If I could, if I could,somehow leave behind the promise of your love just like the sand slipping beneath my feet.. or bring to you my fate, sealed and shaped by the sighing echoes behind us, guided by the lights of the stars and the heavens above...

...would you be kind and say goodbye?

Friday, January 7, 2011

reflections

- promised the sands i'd go straight and then the world rid itself of their worth and weight. i smiled and said thank you. quit one addiction, a social one, took up another, explored the endless possibilities of being happy. well, she wanted me to.

hope doesn't seem that bad after all, you know. it's like a short holiday from misery.

you remind me of stars on the ocean, when each wave snatched pieces of the universe and lay curled up at my feet. you know who you are.

those wolves and men roaming the shores don't scare me anymore.

Gokarna, I love you.

-now the city. its people, their lives, hopes, dreams, pains. all crammed into this thin air, thin and fragile like bleached paper. i've grown to accept it, learned to live with the company of absolute strangers whose stories are linked to mine in ways i cannot imagine. it envelopes you, this city, this whore, this mother, this, this harsh power of men and concrete facades sucking up every bit of you that you cannot offer. this city rips it off of you, it demands that you prostrate naked and cold before it and forgives you ultimately.

-farms and simple folk. fathers and mothers stumbling through their years, their dizzying, spiraling times, realizing that children are beyond their reach now. money and issues and family at home. the same crumbling walls, the same confused emotions, the same bubbles of speech, left incomplete, unconcealed, hanging mid air awaiting realization and acceptance, more photos, more bitterness and cold.

love, in its myriad forms.

-friends don't change, well not many of them do i realized. some get worse, crash and wake up following the echoes they had left behind. some seem content. some don't care. life, without them, is strange and impossible. nightmare like.

-and me. crawling from daylight to darkness, from this lane to that memory, holding the past and the promised future as meager alms. refusing to believe in anything but the vague, the misguided and the pretentious. happy but only a bit, only because i promised you.

and you know that, don't you? you know for certain, a thing about this fool, you twist me this way and that and chip away my jagged edges with some purpose, some great design in your head.

concluded then. nothing's more sacred than the moment we live in.

because as bad as this may seem and sound, our death is ultimately a photograph on some lonely wall.