one last light

i reach out to the stars
for the light to live on for a while
my fragments travel afar
spreading out west in 49 miles

i close my eyes some certain nights
and gaze at constellations I’ve made
with cluster of souls that fit just right
with mine, free and calmly laid

i walk up to each of them
and feel them growing in fire
when they cool down I pick up those gems
and move them above and higher

they glance to see how far they are
and thank the Lord about
the shine, the scars, their dimensions out far
I see them sailing out, and out

and now I crawl in my lonely sky
missing the light I found
all but one sang goodbyes
a spacial rose still hangs around

in this dusky sky of mine
amidst the dark of lights, their vain
i still have one star that flickers
the light that care still remains.

it ain’t me

as far as you wish
move away from the light
there’s nothing moving here
just melt into the night
and maybe someone will help you
repay the life you’ve loaned
whisper you a snowflake
whenever you mourn
someone who gather flowers all along
from the time you felt reborn

but it ain’t me babe
of that i’m sure
don’t mistake lucifer for the lord.

smile please.

i met them two
ladies, at 4th and Brannan.

their face had given up
on wrinkles.
their hair was warm as
the lord’s blessing
any given Sunday.
and colored as bright as
Lucifer’s face.
their bent back pointed
towards the future
of us.
all of us.

one of them had colored
dotted socks on.
maybe they matched.
or that was the trick?
the other one had the
sleight of the bluest southern skies.

they were both out
and about at an AM in the morning
when you’d still be regretting
the existence of your loneliness
or awkwardness of last night
in your dreams.

them?

i’ve never seen a smile so contagious.

Untitled

continued from last time…

What I find amusing about Texas weather is that it changes a lot. I mean multiple times a day. I vaguely remember one day in August I checked the weather before going out, and it was a promising 85 with sun shining nice and high. An hour later I get out of this meeting, and it’s fucking pouring down. I’m damn sure they put out flash flood warning for that shit. You could have just floated in your boat and sung those rain songs on your way back home in that much water which collected there in last hour and only God knows how. That was my first encounter with this mood of nature. Everyone around me acted like it was normal.

Me? Hell no.

I just stood there with my eyes wide open staring at the huge drops of water coming down from the gray sky thinking about what in the fuck am I going to do now without an umbrella.

Truth be told, it didn’t turn out to be a good day. I’m not a big fan of multiple showers a day. I barely get on with the required one. And that gray sky, it pisses me off. You can’t go out, and that alone restricts me to do stuff. Do stuff. Something. Anything. That’s what I do. All the time. And the rain basically told me, hey you, fuck off. And I’m just sitting there sipping my coffee listening to an intelligently picked mellow music playlist specially curated for rainy days in my room running out of ideas to DO stuff. I never liked being restricted.

I like my freedom. I like my options open most of the times. And I get it that you can’t always have whatever you wish for, but most of the times, I just need the freedom to think and act on. That’s pretty much what I desire from people around me. And from life overall. But rain devoid me of that freedom. Unless you give me a soccer ball and couple of humans. Then I’m the happiest kid in the world.

But this story here is far from being a happy story. It’s not going to be pretty, or colorful, or even have a happy ending after all the bullshit. There’s no doodling with crayons. Yeah, the movies lied to you. As of now, it doesn’t even have an ending. Because shit seems to keep going on and on. Forever and ever. And for as long as the shit keeps going on, there will be a writer bored out of his fucking mind writing about it.

Because somebody gotta entertain, ain’t that true? So be it. I’ll keep writing, and you keep reading.

And I’m Brad Pitt

This story is just a usual story. A regular story about guys and girls. A guy and a girl in particular. They could be anyone. Look around you. To your left. To your right. Now look in the mirror. That’s right. Stare right into those eyes who are staring back at you. They could be you too.

They could be anyone, and no one. And that was what’s so beautiful about them. They could pretend like they were the only two people that God ever intended to create on this planet we call home, but they could also pass each other on an empty street and not even look at the other, even though their bodies knew the other was just a breath away.

They were intense, yet hollow.
They were fire, yet a snow storm.
Burning up to their desires, arctic cold to their souls.

Honestly, they both were full of shit. That’s what I think about them. And about every other guy and girl who think they are the special one.

Sure. Why not?
And I’m Brad Pitt.

 

 

PS: How’s this for the beginning of a Novella people?

We are all doomed

Here’s a little secret.

Something that no one has ever told you till now.

Something that doesn’t exist in any religious scripture.

Here it is: the Gods envy us.

Yes. They are jealous of us.

Why?

Because we are mortals.

Any living moment can be our last.

That’s why everything is more beautiful because we are all doomed.

You’ll never be lovelier than you are right now.

We will never be here again.

We are here to drink beer!

“For those who believe in God, most of the big questions are answered. But for those of us who can’t readily accept the God formula, the big answers don’t remain stone-written. We adjust to new conditions and discoveries. We are pliable. Love need not be a command nor faith a dictum. I am my own god. We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us.”

― Charles Bukowski

 

This person had a point.

And a good one!

 

The Interview with God

Just Amazing…

Remembering the days…

Hey everyone! Most of you don’t know ( even I have a doubt sometimes about this!) that I can write. Yeah, that’s true! So here is a piece of my work…its a poem which describes a situation that is created by war and its after-effects….njOy!

The sun came up,
Shining brightly,
Only to see the empty streets…
No sign of life,
No one around,
Few animals were standing on their feets…

The further you go,
More steps you take,
Silence increases on the way…
No one to speak,
& no one to talk,
It wasn’t like any usual day…

The buildings shaking,
Without their mirrors,
Many of them without their walls…
NO place to pray,
NO place to lay,
There were neither any shops nor malls…

You turn around,
The wind blows swiftly,
& dust starts covering the sky…
You see the birds,
Going away from their homes,
Without even saying goodbye…

The smell of the bullets,
The firing of the guns,
Still remains fresh in the air…
It reminds you,
Of the scary battle,
& traps you in its invisible layer…

A little hope of the survival,
Of life and of mercy was there…
You feel for them, you pray for them,
May God listen to your prayers…