THE SHADOW OF THE DANCER

You dance like the shadow of the swinging tapestry
The swinging tapestry tries to dance like you
And while you yourself are drunk in the virtues
The virtues drink from you
The dead go live and they sway amidst orchids
While you yourself become the orchid of the life
Like the melody of the blowing breeze
The sound taps upon me pleasant
You become the breeze while I crave for that melody
You dance like the shadow of the swinging tapestry
While the shadows dance upon you

//

1/09/2017 1:00 AM

I was sipping coffee when I wrote this, outside on the roof at Lok’s  (The guitarist). As a soothing breeze blew I fortunately observed the swinging curtain. That combined with some good flamenco music and some of those expressions crept into this poem. The shadows dance upon the dancer but the dancer keeps on dancing. This maybe the first poem that starts another category of its own mostly about different art forms. 🙂

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SECOND TO YOU, FIRST TO GOD

My name is the greed you harbour
And in a portrait of someone
That you chase night and day
But it moves only farther, farther away
And you make your existence your pain
You repeat over and over again
The same never ending refrain
Like the never ending cycle of birth and death
As every being who is born
And is laid to rest
So shall I be too
But before I embrace the kingdom come
I strive to fulfill what only a few have done
The search of God starts with you
And not outside
The encounter of Demons happen to you
And not made to happen
Most die looking for a purpose
While they forget
The purpose is dying to look after them
The time goes slow and the wit goes dim
Trying to understand everything foolishly
Never satisfied.

There is a never in nevermore
But more we seek
More we strive to store
Till no one warns us of our greed
And like swarms teeming in the sky
More they say, mere mortals
What more do they want?
What more can they have?
Wanting  what they can’t
Abjuring what they have
Conjuring what they shan’t
Hovering on this stand
Leaving all for perchance
Grieving for the dead
Killing those who are alive
With their rage that consumed
Like wraith ridden fumes
Robbing the body throughout
Like a demented ghoul

CHERISHING FILTH

20/06/2017

I find it hard to believe
Such vast a vocabulary
But I write only the filth
Such ignoramus pride
Over utter nothingness
Yet I call myself skilled

Get up, run, kiss your filth
Do, develop, become skilled

How filth finds the abyss
In the form of a clear mind
The dirt marring the garb
The sane turned into blinds
Unfrock the frail and lo
With such an ease they lie

Why won’t we target the filth?
When filth is sold and prized

Two roads past I left it all
The corruption I vaunted
Traversed a million miles
Utopia was never found
Taboo they call lethargy
Seldom they run around

Reality washes the filth clean
But laundry men assassinated

The deceptive perfection
Offbeat the ones who chase
Stiletto hidden in sleeves
Substantial stipend to pay
More filth, more reverence
A requiem for this day

MANES

In the nag of that swarthy night
When the clouds were all maudlin
Sacred tree of banyan exhumed
Manes evincing the dance of doom

A ghost of a woman old and pale
Who lived her life but in vain
A ghost of a man young and tan
Who knew not of life and its pain

Eight in number the patrol of goons
Marching in fallacy for the shining moon
A philosopher who would stand aloof
Patronizing all the men in love

The woman cries for her empty life
The young man cries he lived no life
The goons cry for there was no moon
Philosopher cries to be known a goon

The crying ones are all manes
That dance all fain but cry in shame
For what would death hold for them
Their lives were only in paper and pen

Yet there was a sense of awe
How they danced without a flaw
What they could not fulfil in life
They hoped to achieve in afterlife

What deity are you so haunting
That renders the men daunting
So when the time is right and just
Fill thrills in the night let it burst

These mains haunt for evermore
For no reaper had them reaped
Fretting these manes seemed weed
Fallow helots of a night’s dream

INSTANT REBELLION

23/04/2017

We are living breathing miracles
Who are doomed to spend but a finite time
We are seemingly exotic parcels
Beneath and above of the grounds of crime
We are a sleep driven tragedy asleep
We are cruel humans; haphazardly sublime
We are a smothering pillow of weed
Wounded in and out, possessed by wine

Fantastic it is that how in an instant
The whole glory becomes the folly perchance
Monsters and men stand hand in hand
Tattered bodies withering for earthly cognisance
The day drinks waters mucked by men
The night sings lullaby to the departed radiance
Vow bounden people singing sorrel
Red is passion, brown is sad; ’tis fake romance

Fantastic it is that how in an instant
We become a part of an even larger entity
In a flash of a second how the soul
Sees, breaths, leaps and bounds an eternity
We see divinity in common things
The complex is what sees us with divinity
And how both predator and prey
Can consume each other with great alacrity

THE WILD REVELLER

The Man, God and Beast
Woman, Rage and Feast
Blue, black and off reach
Hidden amidst the mist

Void; thenceforth awaken
Thy asleep; darkest desires
Pitch black for the sheath
Red rose like those pyres

Void inside; outside vague
Vindictive yet roundabout
Ventures the mind of sage
Commoners can but shout

Let the darkness consume
Make one with the purest
The corps dance asunder
Ghouls arrive like guests

The skies are making a rut
The land devoured by fire
As he balters o’er their top
The Mountains shed mire

The creator; the destroyer
The beginning and the end
God of all and all of Gods
Of time, nature and trend

He who is and who is not
He who holds; and let go
Asleep again; him and her
Creation beholds and lo

BE CHILD-LIKE

28/04/2017 3:41 AM

You were children
You grew up
Jaded by reality

No more craze
Crazy seem living
Living seem crazy

Off went surreal
Where went idols?
That you revered

We fought much
Seemed so naive
Naive we were

We was children
We was child-like
Elders are childish

What we do?
Can be anything?
Heap stupid them

Bound by grammar
Money and space
Saving their face

Are yous children?
Yous do are
More than that

Agape and aloof
Alive and assured
Alone and angry

Huff puff ruff
You cuffed up
All your securities

Make me live
Take a smile
Take your time

We are children
Let’s be children
Be child -like