Flashy dream.
So untrue.
Yet the sole desire
Of infinite morns
Morning star.
Mind rushes to catch.
Far, so far. Dizzy.
Is it blinking?
Who was beside me?
Yesterday.
The night. All the night?
I'm dumb. High?
Could be her.
Could she be?
Yes it's her.
My love
She doubted.
I lied.
She shrilled,
And left
I'm so done.
So grilled.
I'll end.
Right away
It's hazy out.
Just as it's in.
Inside out.
And outside in
Forget about that.
Where's the bottle?
I going away.
To heaven again
Monday, December 26, 2011
Saturday, December 24, 2011
On Knowledge and Education
Knowledge is that which pertains to mind and biases the same into less of less. It's more of a constraint rather than a helper. With a free and unbiased mind, one is capable of pursuing things with high energy and force. One is capable of producing the outstanding than the common. Doing things is concerned with minimizing the complexity of a system. But with a mind which itself is complex-ed by the multitude of ideas of difference, it has been an impossible to "do" in the simplest form and with infinite efficiency. Or part of the world propagates higher thinking yet when it comes to education, thought process is the last thing that is given a concern. With time one focuses on maximizing the volume of information and hence lose or weaken the ability to process the same. We are in an urgent need to develop an education system that focuses less and less on consumption of knowledge and focus our time and energies on strengthening logical process as well as ability to think beyond the status quo and help to alter the same. In this innovation age, information is available within a blink of time hence holds less importance for the amount contained in mind. Ability to classify information, making decisions, free thinking are the most important qualities that education should aim to impart. Unless research is not put into understanding and creating a new type of education, we would never be able to catch up to the expectations of our age.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
To past
Take me time, faster than light,
To the past- so lovely, so bright.
What else can I call truly mine
Than the beautiful childhood dream?
Than the daily, daily whines?
The shivers in the chilly moon,
The warm and sweet food of noon,
Shrills and cries nigh long all days
And skirmishes that stay with us
Yet never, never we part our ways.
Innocent petulance then blush on cheeks
That can wither any ire in ticks
Tons and tons of kisses and love
Falling with a blink and only a smile
Take me fast, just in a night,
To the past- faster than light.
To the past- so lovely, so bright.
What else can I call truly mine
Than the beautiful childhood dream?
Than the daily, daily whines?
The shivers in the chilly moon,
The warm and sweet food of noon,
Shrills and cries nigh long all days
And skirmishes that stay with us
Yet never, never we part our ways.
Innocent petulance then blush on cheeks
That can wither any ire in ticks
Tons and tons of kisses and love
Falling with a blink and only a smile
Take me fast, just in a night,
To the past- faster than light.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Insanity
Vandalizing my lone moments,
Pestering my loner dreams
And deriding my effusive concernment,
What far shall it help you achieve?
My heart beyond a suture,
Mind poise,
And eyes seared by sluicing tears,
No mayhem more shall your word cause.
I am marked now by a perverse insanity.
From benevolent being to a con-flagrant frantic,
Spirits seemingly convulsive,
I have apprehensions I be trampled
And crumbled by time's magnificence.
I beg not for a moment of care, nor of love.
But that kindness I deserve;
As shall any being from any elser one.
One lone instant of yours together with mine
Can heal the ecstasy I walk through.
And one more of it can benumb my each rue.
Pestering my loner dreams
And deriding my effusive concernment,
What far shall it help you achieve?
My heart beyond a suture,
Mind poise,
And eyes seared by sluicing tears,
No mayhem more shall your word cause.
I am marked now by a perverse insanity.
From benevolent being to a con-flagrant frantic,
Spirits seemingly convulsive,
I have apprehensions I be trampled
And crumbled by time's magnificence.
I beg not for a moment of care, nor of love.
But that kindness I deserve;
As shall any being from any elser one.
One lone instant of yours together with mine
Can heal the ecstasy I walk through.
And one more of it can benumb my each rue.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Endless Worlds.
There are endless worlds by the side of which we live.
Yet we limit our selves to the confines of the four walls.
There are many miracles around that we gape at.
But we forget that the biggest miracle is that of us, that of our existence.
We are close to luxuriant nature endowed with prolific wealth.
Yet we look for the riches which shall perish with us.
Each moment, endless love bathes us towards which we are blinded.
It can only be visible if we can see beyond our eyes.
It can only be felt if our hearts are open to the form of love that binds us all.
Yet we limit our selves to the confines of the four walls.
There are many miracles around that we gape at.
But we forget that the biggest miracle is that of us, that of our existence.
We are close to luxuriant nature endowed with prolific wealth.
Yet we look for the riches which shall perish with us.
Each moment, endless love bathes us towards which we are blinded.
It can only be visible if we can see beyond our eyes.
It can only be felt if our hearts are open to the form of love that binds us all.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Paint thee, O time !
Paint O my world.
Me thinks it never returns.
Paint the past. Paint the rushing present.
Paint all that holds them.
And all that's held in them
That I and you, my world,
Care and love each being around.
Paint it all. And quench the time
Let it never return.
But let it be sealed. Forever.
Me thinks it never returns.
Paint the past. Paint the rushing present.
Paint all that holds them.
And all that's held in them
That I and you, my world,
Care and love each being around.
Paint it all. And quench the time
Let it never return.
But let it be sealed. Forever.
Literary Doodles
Sometimes our minds tend to wander around all the worlds. Diverse images flow in mind and before eyes and we tend to forget everything except that feeling that we are in a different place altogether. It happens only for a few moments sometimes and may persist for longer in others. And now the literary doodles- they try to capture these moments in words that flow during such muses. They are made without any further changes the diction or structure of the sentences. They may not have much of literary significance. And they may have lots of abstractions thrown in between. Yet they more serve as nets for emotional details. And just as our pen wanders while our mind makes doodles out of nothing, so are these verses. Hence they are literary doodles. Less of a poem and more of beautiful, momentary feelings.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
To Poetry
I had never felt what I feel the moment
I never dreamt that I shall ever speak
The not yet completely formed feelings
The thoughts that have always hidden selves
And the expressions that never took light
Into the doomed reality that I perceived
Was far from being comprehensible
My world, to call it my very own
And to myself- to which they fettered
And their lonesome existence in that domain
Has caused them to fling like fire
Un-relented like a whirlwind sucking life
They are a force rather than a flaccid emotion
Living rather than an abstraction
The expanse of my conception
Has now only been bound by infinity
The living fears have been euthanized
And the voice that was never heard
Is to become the voice of the world
Of truth, of reality and of hope
I owe to this liberation, my being
And to the power of word, my soul. To say,
That which comes as it comes is life
And that which comes with pain, with joy- is poetry.
I never dreamt that I shall ever speak
The not yet completely formed feelings
The thoughts that have always hidden selves
And the expressions that never took light
Into the doomed reality that I perceived
Was far from being comprehensible
My world, to call it my very own
And to myself- to which they fettered
And their lonesome existence in that domain
Has caused them to fling like fire
Un-relented like a whirlwind sucking life
They are a force rather than a flaccid emotion
Living rather than an abstraction
The expanse of my conception
Has now only been bound by infinity
The living fears have been euthanized
And the voice that was never heard
Is to become the voice of the world
Of truth, of reality and of hope
I owe to this liberation, my being
And to the power of word, my soul. To say,
That which comes as it comes is life
And that which comes with pain, with joy- is poetry.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
On Perfection
Can I know how this world looks unto me?
As if it has been perfected from creation.
As if lord himself molded it from nothing
To a wonderment that us humans have ever seen
It is in the way we perceive the same
We unfortunate beings tend to beautify things
To the extent of equating it to heavens
Giants have spoken. That we are in a rush
To make the more orderly the more disorderly
To what far is this immaculate? Impeccable?
I shall say it is unreal. We live in an
Orderless world. In a potion of beliefs
And dis-beliefs. While truth is unknown
Or succinctly- unattainable in purest form
Then there where our wit grants no flawless muses
Where not can we find origin of our existence
And where our capabilities to pursue the world
In its most abstract and unadulterated form
Are constricted, and outcomes bear no semblance
This our pursuit in perfecting selves stands void,
Yet being devoid of motive shall better neither
Hence to the higher tasks should we divert energies
Towards the more requisite in our structure
Which can rekindle a euphoric feeling in us all.
As if it has been perfected from creation.
As if lord himself molded it from nothing
To a wonderment that us humans have ever seen
It is in the way we perceive the same
We unfortunate beings tend to beautify things
To the extent of equating it to heavens
Giants have spoken. That we are in a rush
To make the more orderly the more disorderly
To what far is this immaculate? Impeccable?
I shall say it is unreal. We live in an
Orderless world. In a potion of beliefs
And dis-beliefs. While truth is unknown
Or succinctly- unattainable in purest form
Then there where our wit grants no flawless muses
Where not can we find origin of our existence
And where our capabilities to pursue the world
In its most abstract and unadulterated form
Are constricted, and outcomes bear no semblance
This our pursuit in perfecting selves stands void,
Yet being devoid of motive shall better neither
Hence to the higher tasks should we divert energies
Towards the more requisite in our structure
Which can rekindle a euphoric feeling in us all.
Monday, October 3, 2011
The Other Side
Words have a rare power
They convey the charactery in a form
Which can be comprehended painlessly
But what words do I use?
For I speak to my heart, I'm left helpless
The two things in me, self and my other self
Have never been able to fix on matters
Obviously they are apart, just as truth and false
The result- I be left discontented
At stake is my peace and patience
What shall I weigh up?
The graver thing is that I turned irrational.
The more argumentative I tend to be ,
More does the substance in conversation
Seems to take liberties and far from reality
To the point of being pointless, reaches it
Occasionally I do think over subjects
Which closely relate to my interaction
With this world. It may seem rather redundant
To mention it. Fact is what and how we reason
It is because my ponderance limits itself
To the walls of my mind and only its expanse.
At some point, I had become so obsessed with this
My mind itself started haunting me.
The other side of my mind is a bleak place
It is pestered with conceptions and dry perceptions
I cannot tune it with happenings around the world
Neither could I make it transparent to the same
It though seems at sight to hold insignificance
Yet it has, I believe, the power of transforming
The way we see the world and the way we accept it
I fail to enumerate my attempts to achieve this
At the same time I am poised with confidence
To usher the reigning order to the world
I may seem egregious in my pursuances
But I hope to stand out to the borders drawn around.
Days and nights while I surround me with piled banters
With my own conscience, I be torn by the sternness
Of the situation it bounces to from a tender source
However I have to face it with supreme tenacity
My intentions are held always within a positive circle
But my mannerisms and approach has always
Been scorned because of the inherent peculiarities
Mostly I rubbish these and walk with an iron hand
Sometimes, not all times, even I have to bend
And so does it happen. I become discouraged.
The only hope that constantly drives my way
Is that my other side shall become myself. Hopefully.
They convey the charactery in a form
Which can be comprehended painlessly
But what words do I use?
For I speak to my heart, I'm left helpless
The two things in me, self and my other self
Have never been able to fix on matters
Obviously they are apart, just as truth and false
The result- I be left discontented
At stake is my peace and patience
What shall I weigh up?
The graver thing is that I turned irrational.
The more argumentative I tend to be ,
More does the substance in conversation
Seems to take liberties and far from reality
To the point of being pointless, reaches it
Occasionally I do think over subjects
Which closely relate to my interaction
With this world. It may seem rather redundant
To mention it. Fact is what and how we reason
It is because my ponderance limits itself
To the walls of my mind and only its expanse.
At some point, I had become so obsessed with this
My mind itself started haunting me.
The other side of my mind is a bleak place
It is pestered with conceptions and dry perceptions
I cannot tune it with happenings around the world
Neither could I make it transparent to the same
It though seems at sight to hold insignificance
Yet it has, I believe, the power of transforming
The way we see the world and the way we accept it
I fail to enumerate my attempts to achieve this
At the same time I am poised with confidence
To usher the reigning order to the world
I may seem egregious in my pursuances
But I hope to stand out to the borders drawn around.
Days and nights while I surround me with piled banters
With my own conscience, I be torn by the sternness
Of the situation it bounces to from a tender source
However I have to face it with supreme tenacity
My intentions are held always within a positive circle
But my mannerisms and approach has always
Been scorned because of the inherent peculiarities
Mostly I rubbish these and walk with an iron hand
Sometimes, not all times, even I have to bend
And so does it happen. I become discouraged.
The only hope that constantly drives my way
Is that my other side shall become myself. Hopefully.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
The Other World
Did I ever say how I burn inside
That I was exhausted. And I am.
I walk forth and look around
Sometimes seeing nothing any near
I care not. I move on. Not a fruit.
Who would care for poor beings?
Not even wind nor even sun
Pity only my shade gives me hand
The mirages! I rush towards
Desires that I never catch up
They their-selves laugh a me
I am left a depressed soul.
Ever wondered where I'm heading?
Who would know? Me? No way.
Walking has left only one thing to me
Walking. And more of it. Until I exhaust me
Until the last drop of hope faints
I've never realized what destiny is about
Because I'd never thought about it.
I'd never clearly defined my path
Some things in life aren't certain
But in my case it seems nothing is. Really.
Realizing that too late may be foolish.
But at least I'm become aware of it.
I feel a bit overburdened
And find I'm out of place. And time
How to fit in this world?
Which was made for only the worldly
For only those that know it's taste
And accept it as it comes
But things like me look at it awed
First confused then awed.
I am certain I see it in my nerves
How I see it may be in question
Because I blind my self before I do
I blame my perceptions for this.
Dark as it seems to me, it's unreceptive
Clouded by veils of conservatism
Now how do I define this?
If change is what this world demands,
By made up and ostensive ways
When everyone hides reality and true self
Save this world and damn the change
I stay persistent and lone to hell
I am happy with me and my route
Wild as it may seem but again
Once I made up my mind to be me
I give up else. I am a happy being.
That I was exhausted. And I am.
I walk forth and look around
Sometimes seeing nothing any near
I care not. I move on. Not a fruit.
Who would care for poor beings?
Not even wind nor even sun
Pity only my shade gives me hand
The mirages! I rush towards
Desires that I never catch up
They their-selves laugh a me
I am left a depressed soul.
Ever wondered where I'm heading?
Who would know? Me? No way.
Walking has left only one thing to me
Walking. And more of it. Until I exhaust me
Until the last drop of hope faints
I've never realized what destiny is about
Because I'd never thought about it.
I'd never clearly defined my path
Some things in life aren't certain
But in my case it seems nothing is. Really.
Realizing that too late may be foolish.
But at least I'm become aware of it.
I feel a bit overburdened
And find I'm out of place. And time
How to fit in this world?
Which was made for only the worldly
For only those that know it's taste
And accept it as it comes
But things like me look at it awed
First confused then awed.
I am certain I see it in my nerves
How I see it may be in question
Because I blind my self before I do
I blame my perceptions for this.
Dark as it seems to me, it's unreceptive
Clouded by veils of conservatism
Now how do I define this?
If change is what this world demands,
By made up and ostensive ways
When everyone hides reality and true self
Save this world and damn the change
I stay persistent and lone to hell
I am happy with me and my route
Wild as it may seem but again
Once I made up my mind to be me
I give up else. I am a happy being.
The Genesis
Who is the best companion I would ever have? I find none worth it out of my world. And my world starts with me and ends with me. To say, I am my world. And who else would know me more that what I am other than me. I have chosen myself to be my teacher, my friend, my fiend, my alter ego and my everything. I understand about self and this world with my talks with myself. When everything of the other world seems too far to comprehend, I found a way to live my world. And I have become complacent of my wins and losses. The most I lose is me and the most I gain is what I see in me. In this talks to self I realise my energies and potentials, know my weaknesses and strive to be complete being myself. I start off here.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)