Ostrachised

Ode on a Unregulated Market

2009-04-20T23:39:00.003+05:30

The men at the market places are ravenous
Plasticine brides are baking hard
The ties are tripping at home tonight
Doing the dead cat bounce to a swing set symphony

Bloody zig zags with arrow heads fall
Almighty singing axes sharpen
Model airplanes crash into penthouse bay windows
Amid a susurrus of rained out parades

Marx has a new friend in the corner
He has a triple A rating
Master of disguise, Alas always a loser
In the semi finals of the Trusteeship trophy

The grave diggers solemnly meet again
To fill up the holes in the Earth
And bounce light off tin foil policies
Into middle class eyes

Hobson's Choice

2009-04-20T23:05:00.000+05:30

Eggs in one basket?
Nail in your casket?

To stab a clock

2007-10-15T10:06:00.000+05:30

How has this come to pass?
Who has tipped the hourglass
With such cruelty in my disfavour
If only i could trace the line
And stop the theiving hands of time
To have a moment suspended

Dangling moment, frozen fresh
A snapshot of such happiness
Laced with a longing ache
So beautiful in its single frame
Raw, uncaptured, untamed
I'd ride the roaring tiger forever

A token from a pile of chips
Snatched away from a lover's lips
As our limbs cash in
We collide with reckless force
An act to unabashedly coarse
That it sands itself into refinement

Smooth like you, smooth like me
Face of marble, face of mud
Cool, salty, silty, smooth
But then the seconds kill the firsts
The lasts, the bests and the worsts
Till the moment can hang no longer

Persistence

2007-10-05T11:29:00.000+05:30

When your many streams of consciousness
Make a suicidal leap into the sea
You will have a eureka experience
And finally understand me

When the footfalls of your idea army
March straight into battle to die
And spill blood where the Earth is driest
You will grow an eye for and I

But if you think of me in sleep
When your defenses have fallen to the floor
I might see you twitch in resentment
And forever close this door

So walk on a great deal longer
plod over impossible terrain
Then I will show you what light I have carried
And all will not be in vain

The Grand Reopening

2007-10-05T11:26:00.000+05:30

Sweep up the all cobwebs
This hotel is open again
Guests will come in dinner jackets
And sip cognac while watching the rain

Grease the wheels of the room-service carts
Load them with buckets of ice
Impregnate them with chilled champagne
Only the very best will suffice

Iron all the uniforms
Rehire all the maids
Polish all the bellboys’ shoes
Steam the creases in their plaids

Stock the larders with ropes of garlic
And meats from all over the world
Let jasmine once more scent fragrant grains
While king prawns lie among them curled

The streets will be envious beyond relief
This hotel will be splendid again
At the junction where Nostalgia avenue
Meets Confusion Main and Confounded Lane

Drive away the mendicants
There will be no poverty here
Only opulence beyond one’s imagination
In rooms that are priced very dear

If your eyes are rich with glittering tears
And your experience was very expensive
Do join us for drinks in the Wrecking-Ball-Room
Our wine list is suitably extensive

When you retire to the presidential suite
Please note the complimentary willows
We hope the stay will be to your taste
Like the salt and the mint on your pillow

Chocolate chip?

2007-09-24T06:21:00.000+05:30

Sometimes i wish
I could grab your cookies
In public

And crumble them
My way
And you'd like it

Italy scape 1

2007-08-11T15:15:00.000+05:30

I swept the cobwebs off the sea skin
And paid one diamond earring to the Mediterranean
It glittered in its newly polished surface
And sank like the rock it is

I floated on the waves
Lapping against squares paved with sun
My skin cried salty tears, my heart leapt in my chest
but my mind was very, very still

Italy scape 2

2007-08-11T15:06:00.001+05:30

I found a Joshua tree in Firenze
It was filled with swilling tourists
Spilling with Irish memorablia
Yet not a ginger head in sight

Cheers

2007-02-18T08:43:00.001+05:30

I have a few pounds in my pocket
Maybe a couple of pence
It'll buy us some drinks
Life can start to make sense

A quiet night, a happy night
A merry night of no pretence
We can straddle the bar
Debilitate our defence

I bought you a beer
But you drink cider
I borrowed your ears
And now you're an insider

No More References

2006-09-19T04:12:00.000+05:30

Why should i use a simile
when the metaphor is true?
Liken you to person, place, object or thing
when they actually become you?

Why should i fashion you?
when you already seem so stylish
Impress my thumb on your forehead
with an alien, foreign wish?

As you frown beside me in sleep
in your skin, the furrowed ridges
are so much more expressive
than analogies or adages

A Tisket-A Tasket

2006-09-19T04:09:00.000+05:30

A tisket, a tasket
Put all my eggs in one basket
And when they broke
The yellow yolk
Behaved remarkably just like you

Away they ran
Down the drain
Making a mess
And leaving a stain

The Magpie

2006-06-02T18:40:00.000+05:30

Under the cover of night
Your tongue, it slipped into my song
Stole away my glittering secret
Then flew down south to love me long

A Dress Code... Crack!!

2005-12-11T22:42:00.000+05:30

Wearing purple socks with fishnet stockings
Leaves one very vulnerable to mockings

Toting wooly leg-warmers like Irene Cara
Post the 1980's don't fare any fairer

Sibling Revelry

2005-12-11T22:30:00.000+05:30

My brother has finally been wed
He has taken his new bride to bed
Under a canopy of jasmine and roses

And just when it all seemed ended. Alas!,
A wedding reception must come to pass
Under a canopy of jasmine and roses

My lack of sleep now bares and exposes
Childish rhymes like noses and toeses
Under a canopy of Jasmine and Roses

Broken up, Day 60

2005-11-12T12:38:00.000+05:30

I can't be like the other girls
My sweetness is inside
When it seems i'm resolved and,
You can't pierce my hide
I go home alone
And then I start to cry

I can't take a compliment
I'm so ungracious that way
I can't swallow jesting insults
My skin is thin that way
I can accommodate your life
My heart is spacious that way
But i can't live for you
My head is strong that way

I give into silence,
My heart is heavy that way
I try and talk through the spaces
I'm very social that way
I don't please myself often
I'm desperate that way
When i get low, i often get high
But when it comes down
I can't fight it, just cry

Birdie Num Num

2005-10-27T16:55:00.000+05:30

Peter Sellers was a brat and a rat
I find myself very attracted to that

By The Lake

2005-10-12T17:21:00.000+05:30

Here I am again,
Up in my tree
They won’t look here
I can be free
I can play my guitar
Learn to Play it well
Become really good
And escape this hell hole

His belt has a home
My back has a welt
Everything is red
Everyone is angry
Her eyes are swimming
Her mouth is quiet
No one really cares
Nothing’s really clear

I start my long walk
To my favorite place
Where I can talk
In my own sub-human tongue
Down by the lake
Little fish swim by
I smile a rare smile
And close my eyes

Today is special
I turned nine
But I realize
How many beatings
I have left
Too many years
Too few tears
I don’t think I can last

Down by the lake
I’m going to cry
Down by the lake
I’m going to die

I’m finally here
I can see my self
On the still water
Why would they love me?
A last lost son
God will take me
When I am done
And I close my eyes

I open my eyes
My feet haven’t moved
Maybe tomorrow
I’ll throw my self in
Down by the lake
Away from the boats
If I jump today
I’ll ruin my new clothes

Bodies Parting

2005-09-24T13:16:00.000+05:30

Torn to shreds this hopeful dream,
We nurtured. It would seem,
What was healthy was not enough
The last of love was so devastatingly rough
It ripped through the fabric of us
Its umber blood began to gush
Staining us with its final blow
Drowning us with its swollen flow

How I wish it had been gentle
With playful kissing, so accidental
So natural, so tender, so sweet
It seems a better last way to meet.

Tragedy Technasma

2005-09-20T16:23:00.000+05:30

Corinthian Columns combine Doric and Ionic
Man and Machine make something bionic
Some excellent drinks mix Gin and Tonic
But you and me made an ache so chronic
It’s Demonic

The Glass Heart

2005-09-20T16:22:00.000+05:30

This Glass Heart once rang true
This crystal chimer had a lighter hue
Now the cracks from so many breaks
Its sonorous joyful timbre takes

Is it near its very end?
This once transparent, musical friend
So many times has it been glued,
Back together. Its melody subdued

The fragments are now very small
Fainter than the pin head’s fall
It’s sides like sand slowly filter out
The love and passion it held devout

It is whole but only just
Kindness and tenderness are a must
For it to survive the arduous way
Of life’s intensity seeking, heaving way.

Darkness Roars

2005-08-31T23:41:00.000+05:30

How can you explain pain?
When you feel it, recognize it
And relive it again
In someone else’s eyes

A memory locked in your body
Makes your fists clench
Involuntarily in a shoddy
Meaty, tight, sweaty drench

A viscous restless energy
A snarling patch of black
Sucking up the vitality
Of anything along your track

Your darkness roars
Your evil thrashes
And devils dance
Between your lashes

Make Peace with Yourself

2005-08-22T00:44:00.000+05:30

When her smile slowly drips
Down the front of your shirt
And the curls of her hair
Make one last whisper against your cheek
Try and see the watery glow
Inside your chest
Instead of that great abyss
And make peace with yourself

The icy daggers in your bleeding eyes
The red rivers along your arms
The soft tissue under your nails
And the ups and downs on your aching head
Avoid the void
Sidestep the filling love buffet
And complete your own tapestry
Make peace with yourself

The angry passion that rips the scream
Right out of your throat
And your face becomes twisted
In a frozen mask of agony
Thaw it slowly with the sand
Of a thousand hourglasses
Till the sigh is heaved
The dagger is sheathed
A calm breath is breathed
And you’ve made peace with yourself

Half the Man

2005-08-20T12:46:00.000+05:30

The flower pushed through the ground
Red like Arab lips
The frog leapt through the kept turf
Green like glassy monsoon shoots
The moon glinted in the corner of his eye
Like white starlight
Three magi came to his door
Only one and a half went back
Gold and frank
Splice.
They became halves
Because his angst was such
And no one else understood.

A Good Question

2005-07-20T04:18:00.000+05:30

Is my heart cold?
Or just seeking gold
When base metals surround me?

A day at the arcade

2005-07-07T11:40:00.000+05:30

Air Hockey Valkyries
Making Escobar goals
One young man attempts cool
In a filmy pink floral shirt
Unfortunately it buttons the wrong way

Bleeping Arcade games
Tease strollers with techno
and wild flashing lights
Fascinated children look on
with open jaws and vacant eyes

Nearby the pins fall
Knocked by colourful cannonballs
Pretty waifs throw slow spares
And upset their gorillas
Who hurl fast gutter balls

Skin Care

2005-06-23T11:09:00.000+05:30

Lacto-Calamine Lotion
For soft smoother skin
And fairer complexion
Ideal makeup base
Cooling and soothing lotion.
Widely used application in minor skin conditions
Rash,
Allergy,
Acne and pimples.

Be sure to wear it only in the night.
Because it coats your face
In it’s sickly orange substance
And makes you look terrible
People will stare.

From a hospital bed

2005-05-24T23:02:00.000+05:30

Viridian leaves and chrome yellow shoots
Outside, a vivid vegetation explosion
But vomit green walls and cholera stains
Keep me from being blown away

This distance, this trap, my box
Has turned my writing purple
To escape my mind’s monochrome
Because my world is ashen grey

The Date

2005-05-21T14:37:00.000+05:30

Mashed Potatoes are very nice
Piled atop some gravied rice.
Filet mignon is just divine
with a spot of good red wine
so why are you drinking only water?

Are you not singularly moved
by how the glazed pear halves are hooved?
Or romantically inclined towards the torte
of ripe red strawberries stewed in port?
Why are you eating only breadsticks?

Well thank you for the lovely dinner
Although you seem to have gotten thinner.
Especially on one half of your behind
My treat next time, you're very kind.

The Blues Man

2005-05-17T12:39:00.000+05:30

The man in the cool sunglasses,
Pulls at his Tiparillo.
Swigs his Bourbon.
And makes mellowness descend.
The blues man.
Like so many people walking around,
Tired, exhausted, searching.
Only this man,
In his sunglasses and enlightened demeanor
Knows the way of dealing.
Of beautiful expression.
To say it better for everyone else
And By seeking comfort in numbers,
Under the smoke screen of the bar.
Inside the personality,
Is soothed in his serene admission
Honesty is like the stubbed cigarette
Telling you to cease and desist
The strength in knowing
Someone else feels the same
The mass is shifted and borne.
By the collective shoulder.

Erasing the Past

2005-05-12T00:46:00.000+05:30

Bursting with deceit
Swollen with dishonesty
Before your face contorts
Into a that hideous mask of indignation
And flings a book of history
The future is now
You’re not in it
I’ve had enough
Goodbye

4th Floor Balcony Revelation

2005-04-19T02:28:00.000+05:30

As the sun sets orange,
From a fourth floor balcony,
Leveling with my eyes
I realize
I much prefer to be entertained
By alcohol than your lies.

Mr. Merry

2005-04-12T11:01:00.000+05:30

Bystanders, talking at each other
Not understanding what they’re saying
People walking purposefully
And missing the point of swaying
Lovers looking into each others eyes
And seeing their own reflection
The sun setting in brilliant colour
And sinking like a peach infusion

There are always flip sides to a coin
But Mr. Merry never sees the line
He just lives in circles
And talks in squares
And life for him seems just fine

Cats playfully scratching posts
And sharpening their claws
Men and women chatting to each other
With gossip in their jaws
Children playing on the street
The slowest one is it
A young man’s taking his vital shots
And it doesn’t hurt a bit

There are always flip sides to a coin
But Mr. Merry never sees the line
He just deals with figures
Lives with numbers
And life for him seems just fine

There’s music on every corner
All other peoples songs
There’s a fire in every household
And sometimes no tongs
There’s a boy on his first date
In his father’s car
Another swinging his mightiest swing
But the ball doesn’t go very far

There are always flip sides to a coin
But Mr. Merry never sees the line
He has a catAnd a Cadillac
And life for him seems just fine

What’s your secret Mr.Merry?
I asked him once upon the ferry
As the water carried us home
I’m safe, he replied, I have no bride
No pride and a nice ride
I live for, with and off no one
I live healthy, am reasonably wealthy
And creep up the corporation stealthy

I thought to myself what a wise man,
Organize man, surprise man
A fine fellow, very mellow
When will he see he is dead and yellow

There are always flip sides to a coin
But Mr. Merry never sees the line
He just lives in circles
And talks in squares
And life for him seems just fine

Hirsute Pursuit, A Hairy Tale

2005-03-28T22:50:00.000+05:30

“You dark shiny strand of joy
I could be with no better boy
But when we fallout its forever
So let’s agree to fallout out together
Our follicles may age
But our love will rage
Even when we fight and strain
To resist separation in the shower drain”

Intermission 1972

2005-03-26T08:48:00.000+05:30

When the women would powder their noses
And the men would go water the roses
Cigarettes were smoked many years ago
Recollection inspires an old dance move
That makes everyone laugh
At the mad ways of yesteryear.
You dance as they did in funny clothes
The humor accentuated by contemporary settings
Of garb and garbled language
from a halcyon bygone era.
Parents become young again
Only to be ridiculed.
God bless them.
For being so amusing in their absence.

The end of love's illusion

2005-03-21T14:18:00.000+05:30

As I came down the stairs,
After sitting with my back to you,
I was hoping you had left the floor.

But while your pony tailed friend looked about
Outside, as I descended
My eyes fell upon you standing there.

Like a wolf at the bottom of the flight,
And it probably was a full moon night
That no one notices in a warm pub.

Beers had been downed,
Sorrows had been drowned
None as deep as the shadow you wished to cast

It was amusing to watch your face
As you looked into mine
After all those nights of lonely misery and abstract self pity

When you spoke I did not think of what I’d missed
But a face to face reality
And it was not what I had cried over

I realized that we are really not what we seem
Life is indeed a waking dream
That is fraught with colour just before sleep

The form had nothing to do with an old lover
The face had nothing to do with my plight
And I felt to weep again for all my weeping

But I laughed heartily at the situation
Mocked and giggled at the tardy confrontation
It did nothing to shatter the ideal I had lost

And I figured once again
What I had told my self in vain
That the dream was not you

It was not you
It was not me
It was what we could be eventually.

Nervous Nervosa

2005-03-15T16:42:00.000+05:30

Nervosa loved when nothing was discussed
Special moments were of silent sharing
Silent daring and silent caring.
Nervosa was pretty, with long black hair,
Moon-Round toenails and in-between fair.
One by one she let people in,
And danced with them till they wept with joy.
One by one she threw them out,
Till they drowned in the pools she made in their hearts

Nervosa liked to flow along
With the tide of life as it crashed on the rocks
But she fled back to the ocean, vast and limitless
When she felt the sandy beach underfoot
Not she, to step on land and walk
With the people as they rushed along
Not she to remain in the coral kingdom
With the sea creatures that lived there
Nervosa was amphibious
Nervosa was ambiguous

Never was there such a girl, so straight and tall
And yet so willow like in a breeze
She conversed with one and spoke with all
She gave of her true self to none
Restless was her spirit and firm was her will
To flirt with every terrain.
But quietly afraid of this butterfly life
For it poured loneliness in her veins

Will she freeze her liquid ways?
Can she stop her wicked wandering?
For behind her as she went along,
She left broken glass and blue songs.
Taking each time a step, a shard and a note.

Poor Nervosa so sad inside
Pride swollen within her silken hide
Afraid that one day her heart would sink
Pierced by the growing weight of her cargo.
Then Nervosa would no longer be free to roam
Caged and bound within a home.

Animal/Insect Haiku

2005-03-11T21:33:00.000+05:30

Scorpion bites won’t make you itch
Scorpion bites will hurt like a bitch

A cow will eat grass, it likes to chew.
It doesn’t smoke it like you do

deer are very prone to frights
Naked are their eyes when caught in headlights.

Ants are industrious day and night
Black ones are mild, Red ones will bite

Beetles roasting on an open flame?
Marshmallow for me just the same.

Locusts must taste very bad,
I imagine they’re like some yam I’ve had

Gators like people inside their hides
People like gators on their hides

Lupine howls will echo never
Then why on earth must people’s ever

Whales are magnificent, I hope
No more will turn into bars of soap

An ostrich when dealt a bad hand
Will bury its head deep in the sand

Geese-down quilts are soft and loose
Yet I prefer snuggling with a goose.

Dinner Dilemma

2005-03-04T11:39:00.000+05:30

“What about dinner” I ask
And you stare at me blank
Look through me
As if I’m made of glass

So I wait an hour
And repeat the question, Luck
Has it, you give me a look
To say “don’t give a duck”

Yet late at night
When hunger begins to gnaw and tug
I wake, to make you instant noodles
Not grandly gloating, but smug

As I measure out water for the pan,
I realize at the end of the day
I won the battle but lost the war
And you still have it your way.

Peeping Tom

2005-03-02T00:18:00.000+05:30

Greetings young lovers,
Under the covers!
Why do you glare?
When you notice me stare?
Don’t mind me, I’m dandy!
Carry on! Go ahead, be randy
What’s that? It doesn’t feel right?
Well…if you do it properly, it might.

Clockwork Orange

2005-03-01T11:54:00.000+05:30

For all of you who were unable to get a copy of the Clockwork Orange Demo. Just Paste link target to download the two songs, Presence and Utopia.

http://www.geocities.com/planetclockwork/Presence.mp3

http://www.geocities.com/planetclockwork/Utopia.mp3

Alliterative Amore

2005-03-01T02:16:00.000+05:30

The dashing debonair disrobes dames,
Simply, swiftly with a single stare
Like Shiva makes them shake and shiver
Quiet, quickly makes them quiver
Lovelorn like a liquored liver,
Wobbly when whet with wet

How hard they hang onto his hand,
Bleating, begging besotted band
An army armed with his amorous arm,
Feel completed, cool and calm
Handsome, hunky, heady hotties,
Never know to need for naughties

Famous Grouse

2005-02-25T17:10:00.000+05:30

Spread my song for me
Atleast say you'll try
As i try to preserve a piece of mind,
To outlive my human body,
And trade 15 minutes of fame
For 50 years of adulation

Swap my feelings,
For a set of wheels.
And then my wheels
For a pair of wings.
I'll trade 15 minutes of fame,
For 50 years of adulation

Flu Shorts!

2005-02-24T23:26:00.000+05:30

I've spent two days
in a deep Flu haze

Flu made me weak
I could hardly speak

Flu spanked my Bottom
and turned my mouth to cotton

I smoked like a flue
and i caught the flu
But now i'm better
away my flu flew

Hello Droogies, just recovered from a particularly nasty, virulent bug. Would anyone like to take a stab at a flu short?!!! Won't hurt a bit!

My Munny Valentine

2005-02-14T05:42:00.000+05:30

The Clock Struck Twelve and you bounded in
"Happy Valentine's Day Ostrich!"
In the back of my mind, i thought of money
No present for you this year honey.
But i can give you me
absolutely free,
quantity and quality
Kiss you till you swoon with joy.
You lucky Boy!
Now isn't that better that a shirt?

Blood Lust

2005-02-12T03:23:00.002+05:30

Lets have some friendly fire
And riddle ourselves, with
holes that smell of burning tires
Lets slash each other down to size
With double edged personalities

Let’s Clash Mid-air in violent combat
And mangle on the jagged rocks
Rip open the tissues
Of Past-Present Issues
And kill us in a glorious flash

And then we’ll go our separate ways
Nursing all re-opened wounds
And cursing the more peaceful days.
Later in the light of a chicken blood moon
We can think of what we achieved

Piece of meat Bitch

2005-02-12T03:23:00.001+05:30

Slaving like a dog
Full like a hog
Arms like hams
Waving in traffic jams
Sides of mutton
Such a glutton
Bacon Behind
Eyelids the rind
Middle full of beer
Face an ugly leer
But if you get to know her
She’s really quite a dear
Nose full of pollen
The office is calling
The boss is a bastard
And so she gets plastered
Fingernails chewed
Over wishes subdued
Plate after steaming plate.

For Boomsa

2005-02-12T03:23:00.000+05:30

The weekend is here,
Its movie night tomorrow.
Come and soak your feet with me
In some lovely purple bath salts
And pumice away your anxiety.
Monday will undoubtedly be shitty
But your toes will be pretty.
And we’ll always have Sunday,
When we lunch at breakfast

Metrosexual

2005-02-12T02:07:00.000+05:30

You marvelous metrosexual!
You fruity heterosexual!
You make me so happy.
My shopping so snappy.
Buying drapes and linen,
In BoyGirl hued opinion
So fresh and so new!
I’d never sleep with you.

To boldly go where no ostrich has gone before

2005-02-10T01:25:00.000+05:30

Scraping my Toes on the Sky

Presence

2005-02-09T09:57:00.000+05:30

A little something hot and heavy from my Old Band Clockwork Orange. Me on Vocals. Song's Called Presence.... enjoy

Click the title in case you were wondering

Naughty cow

2005-02-03T19:11:00.000+05:30

I grabbed your sister
and i kissed her
gave her a blister
smack on her mouth
moo'ed onto your cousin
gave her a dozen
I guess that makes me
very un-cowth

CHAPTER ONE

2005-02-02T10:36:00.000+05:30

Refractive orange Vagaries of the Orange Dusk cause the sun to dip slowly into the mutable ocean like a watery tea bag in the murky rippling brew. A distended swollen orb, like a bald head immersing itself into holy waters to wash the day’s pollution and is sunk and drowned. Holiness, like the ocean which seems like a long held breath that with practice will reach the finesse of the fakir and then the day will stretch into infinite light. The air straddles the sea breeze in a long salty, sensual ride to shore and it brushes my face with its whispery, grainy fingers. Alien gusts from feathery spans join the action as the black perpetrators hop and fly with refuse beaks and their three sandy toes. Everything is a unique assembly of energy.

Somewhere along this spectrum of creation I walked along the shore of an unfamiliar city. I thought to myself whether not being in love was more frightening than being in love and not being madly in love. Both were frightening and yet the latter seemed absolutely terrifying. All people have that existential playground where they believe that no matter how long they wait their turn, the sand pit at the end of the slide will never spray them with earthy happiness. Optimism is a quality that seems to have been replaced with brooding thoughts in my cluttered head. It seemed to be able to completely comprehend the uniqueness of my surroundings and yet drew a blank when it came to common life choices. “ Breathe”, he had said, “like you have an eternity for each motion. Your body will not fight you if you have faith in the premise”. And I drew a sharp inward breath and exhaled gently. Giddy with the gust I continued as my body slowly relaxed: feet, shins, thighs, belly, breasts, back, neck and then my head.

Even the guidance of my quasi guru cum friend seemed to bounce off my unreceptive body now. There I was, a stranger on a strange beach. A walking, thinking tense ball of string, defying gravity by ambling along the stretch rather than rolling down the slope into the vast water. I pulled out a pack of cigarettes that disclosed to onlookers a habit I swore I would give up by my 25th birthday. On the threshold of my 27th , I was still non-vegetarian and I looked with distaste upon the butts sticking out of the cellophane wrap and upon my own empty promises. These weren’t the only unbroken ones, habits or promises. The others I had broken were of eternal love and unconditional compromise. The minor vices were a lame, but momentarily effective catharsis. Its strange how small insecurities like not having a cigarette between your fingers at stressful moments can dissolve, even for a brief span of time, the larger ones.

Sickened by my last thought I threw the half smoked roll of tobacco and God alone what else into the sand and began walking briskly back to my car. It was a nice car, well maintained like everything else I owned, not spectacular, but nice. My life was like my car…. Nice. Atleast my car did not also take on my other characteristics or the engine would mysteriously appear in the front seat one day with all its wiring ripped out. I sat in the driver’s seat and warmed it to comfort myself before reaching into the depths of my bag for the keys. Gave me another moment of self pity. Pity is just failure giving itself dignity, like a beggar in a new cast off suit. I hadn’t really failed at anything; at least I didn’t think so. It’s just the paths I had taken that had come back to haunt me for a while. Nice. A counterbalance for the success. Like when as a school girl they would tell you not to laugh too much or you’d cry the next day.

The only good thing about Sundays was that the roads were relatively empty. Otherwise, they were just plain depressing and prompted unnecessary reflection into the past and the immediate future of tomorrow’s Monday. Maybe the screeching of Rob Halford would help calm my mind. “HE IS THE PAINKILLER. THIS IS THE PAINKILLER”. The loud music entered my head, filled a space and displaced my resignation to go to work in the next 24 hours. Somewhere along that course there would be food and rest. Both designed to placate me and set me up for their true deception by passing time. Life was kidnapping me and taking me through its journey and I felt not victimized, but blindfolded.

The Ostrich

2005-01-31T13:42:00.000+05:30

Oh! Ostrich can your fanny fan?
Why indeed it can!
I have many feathers man!

Oh! Ostrich does your pout,
Rest upon a yellow snout?
See for yourself you lazy lout!

Oh! Ostrich is your neck
Long enough for an accordion deck?
Fool! Isn’t it obvious? Heck!

Oh! Ostrich do your legs go zoom?
Stupid questions! Vroom vroom!
I’m running away from this room.

And so the Ostrich ran away,
To never return again, that day
She never loved me anyway.

Rock n' Roll Children

2005-01-30T01:38:00.000+05:30

It had been a long day for Fred Andrews. He painstakingly unlaced his calf length Black army boots and hung them up behind the door of his bedroom. He stared at them wistfully for a while, they were his pride and joy. Cost a bomb at the surplus store despite the fact that in actuality they were standard issue because there was no war going on in the world except the one he and so many of his kind were fighting. And they couldn’t do it without militia gear. It gave them an air of organization and mystique. Besides, women love a man in uniform. And like Steven Tyler said at an award ceremony, it costs a lot of money to look cheap.

So there you have it. Women, enigma and talent. The three things that made the rock and roll star, or terrorist in Fred’s case. Tough times had befallen the world of music. Consumerism had made lazy fools of the public and they were ready to swallow anything that was packaged and familiarized. People needed to know what they were buying before they bought it. Gone are the days of the joy of trial and error. The way Fred had discovered Led Zeppelin. Music was reasonable in those days and he still remembered the shiver that ran up his spine every time he bought a new tape and put it in his player. Would it be good? If he wasn’t quite sure whether he liked it or, he’d play it 10 times over till he could decide. Nobody did that anymore. Everything had to be certified and approved before they’d even go and buy it… forget taking the trouble of re-listening to it to form your own opinion. If Music star magazine gave it 5 stars, it would sell millions on the printed word alone. Unbeknown to the milling population that flitted in to the music store to buy that album that everyone just had to own, the pimply faced, overweight critic that wrote the review was sunning his voluminous posterior on his favourite beach getaway courtesy the music company.

Fred spat hard. Because of the thought of this lazy World and it’s irresponsible media and partly because while thinking so hard he’d let the toothpaste work itself into a nice rabid foam that was precariously dribbling down his chin. “Opportunists!” he thought and spat again. It was 100% minty wrath. “Damn the bastards, they’re going down.”

It had begun like every other day. Wake up at 0600 hours, work out for a half hour. Cold shower to get his body moving and then 2 long hours of grueling scales and arpeggios. He played pentatonic and Hungarian and chromatic until the hard, flaky caps of his finger tips had string grooves in them and his chest developed welts. Then he picked an album from wall, today’s was permanent waves by rush and played along with Alex Liefson through every single track on the album. If he didn’t know it, he’d learn it till he could play it tight, down to the last hammer on. Thus the morning wore on. By afternoon he had his first meal of the day with Andy, Geoff and Bug in the common room of the base. There was custard today and he loved custard…plus it was hot! Great! They spent some time on composition after lunch and then lined up for assembly.

From the air it looked like row upon row of colorful tees and Black boots. On main stage stood a flamboyant creature with colorful scarves tied around his microphone. “Greetings music militia”, he began, “today, we are about to set out on some very important assignments and I trust all of you have been trained to give this mission your optimum. All of you are soldiers to the cause of war and some of you may not return. But know this…you are putting your life on the line for a belief…your belief and your religion. And therefore it becomes your duty, to your soul, to protect the integrity of the music that we treasure so dearly. The music that we have grown to love and broken our backs to master. We will not be lead into blind consumerism by company dictatorship that no longer respects their fundamental function of bringing the music to the fan. So go forth with a song in your hearts. Let it be your own and let it be a song of joy and faith. “LONG LIVE ROCK AND ROLL!”
Amid cheers, grunts and calls the man pulled out his zippo, ignited it and swayed his arm from side to side. The assembly followed and it was to be seen that all of them had the words emblazoned on their lighters. A band of longhaired, boot-clad men then took the stage and began to play the song. A young man with a voice remarkably like Ronnie James dio was screaming the chorus, “long live rock and roll, let it live, let it live, let it live”, with great feel to the frenzied mob. Fred and his unit picked up their arms at the silo and went over their plans one last time in the car on their way to the office of Sony Music ltd. Similar units were headed out to all the major record label offices and some even to certain radio stations.

“So you guys have got everything?”, said Bug, “Uzis?”
“Check” , said Fred
“Grenades?”
“Check”
“Fuse, chamber and plunger?”
“Check”
“Alright then we’re ready to roll. Let’s go”, said bug a drummer and like most had a need to control time. We’re going in at 1730 hours.”
“All set.” said Andy, bassist, looking to Geoff the throat Atkins who was often given to brooding thoughts and disappearing for hours with his notepad and pencil. “Geoff, not now okay. This is important.”
“Fuck you man. I’m ready”, said Geoff, “and to hell with those monosyllabic illiterate fools, I hope we make them suffer like we have.”
“Okay, then we’re set.”, said Fred, “ on the count of three we get out of the car and take position. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be”, mumbled bug under his breath.
“One…two…three…”
See how they run.

Geoff and Andy took the main entrance while Fred and Bug did a quick Reiki of the compound and joined them mid-gagging the security guard.
“ We’re going to let you go man, you’re just here making a living and that’s cool. As long as you’re not directly involved with this inbred, blood sucking organization”, said Geoff, always ready with a speech.
“ Enough chit chat. Let’s move”, said Fred
“And don’t forget that no matter which fake breasted bimbo they put on the pedestal, she’s going down sooner or later and when she does Pan and Alice Cooper will dance all over her mangled, empty soul. Remember…”
“…Aww man, you’re scaring the shit out of him. You want to make a real point and get on with this job or are you going to spend all day trying to convert this dude?”, said Bug
“Remember man…” said Geoff waggling his finger at the security guard as they ran toward the Elevator.

Inside, they got busy sealing it off with explosive and spray painting ‘long live rock and roll’ all over the walls. With incredible efficiency, the fuse was rolled out of the elevator and into the parking lot and over by the side of their car.

“Okay Freddie fingers, do your thing”, said Andy.
“With pleasure”, said Fred, pumping the plunger…

They stood for just a fraction of a second, watching 20 stories of bad Karma come crashing down in a heap of rubble and limbs. It seemed like a lifetime before they stashed their boots and hair back into the Jeep… driving double time back to base.

There was chaos on the nine o’clock news. Every major record label had been hit around 6PM that day in the most unprecedented act of terrorism since 9/11. A few popular radio Stations and Magazine head quarters had also been razed to the ground. The president was making a speech about how the government was going to get to the bottom of this… “They will be caught, and justice will prevail”, he said…

At the base, loud speakers were blaring AC/DC’s ball breaker and the JD was flowing. The crowd calmed down for a while when the colorful creature took the stage.

“First of all, you guys have done an amazing job”, we’ve wiped out the big fish and now it’s up to us musicians to go out there and see to it that the distribution of music does not return to the corrupt, commercial totem of inhumanity that was. It’s up to all of you now, start studios, set up clubs, go forth and spread the goodness of music in the world. It may have been at a great cost, but it was necessary to protect the integrity and spirit of our way of life. We may look like terrorists, but we’re really just victims of a colonist regime that took our lives and made us robotic slaves to their produce. When you go your separate ways today, you will not breathe a word of what went on here and what you did. I wish you and your bands all the best of luck now that there is no more a wall between you and the people. Play live gigs, connect with people and teach them to love and not be cultural zombies. LONG LIVE ROCK AND ROLL”

“LONG LIVE ROCK AND ROLL!!!!” was the shout that filled the halls, illuminated only the light of so many flickering, waving Zippos…

Solution Resolution

2005-01-29T16:20:00.001+05:30

Choice stands before me
Her multiple options gleaming
Beckoning, reasoning with me
Consequence displayed with meaning

The path's end via many a road
but hazy is the first street
delving to divulge a manner to proceed
common sense scatters at my feet

Picking up the peices of the puzzle
sewing them into the lining of my coat
Slowly the picture clears, bit by bit
and answers slowly stir and float

Grabbing with urgent fingers
sorting problem and solution
a mellow warmth is kindled
into the fire of resolution

Victor in the war of choice
The mind a weapon against the odds
And opening ideas in resonant voice
Is the phone help service of the Gods

No More References

2005-01-29T16:20:00.000+05:30

Why should i use a simile
when the metaphor is true?
Liken you to person, place, object and thing
when they actually become you?

Why should i fashion you?
when you already seem so stylish
Impress my thumb on your forehead
with an alien, foreign wish?

As you frown beside me in sleep
in your skin, the furrowed ridges
are so much more expressive
than analogies or adages

Love's Excesses

2005-01-29T15:11:00.003+05:30

When i say, my Love
That your fire warms me
keep one eye on the flame
Or it may entirely consume me

When i say, My Darling
in your love i'm a joyful bather
watch the swell of the water
Or drown i will, sooner or later

When I say, My Lover
So delectable do i find you.
Be like the public ditribution system
Or I may bloat and blue

But when I say I love you
Immediately kill you senses
Or you will come to the above ends
Of which i have just spoken

For I Lack the grace and prudence
to play and regulate those games
that seem central to love's lifetime
and ensure a safe passage through ours

Perfect

2005-01-29T15:11:00.002+05:30

Plates of glass, mothers and scales
Tell me what i care not to hear
But defeat me in the persistence
By laying bare my deepest fear
Of not being perfect.
Or atleast and approximation of wholesomeness

So i try to splice and halve
The onus of my body's bonus, brood
And contemplate the the richness
of swallowed thought and food
so will i ever be perfect?
if i dwell on this singular mundane goal

trapeziums are as angular
As my perimeter is rounded
but they say a circle can be wholesome
and life within it well founded
And i wonder if i'll ever be perfect
in the prison of a shape

Lines aren't fun for everyone

2005-01-29T15:11:00.001+05:30

I dislike the new highway
With its incessant tolls
Straight stretches of long lengths
peppered stops and regular roads

As a child i loved 'join the dots'
Spots became images with pencil and time
How awful if those interesting pictures,
were exchanged for a boring line.

Life Shouldn't be so linear,
like the new highway road
oh! to curve and swerve and wind
curious, till our souls explode.

Because even in hospitals,
with IVs, UVs and formaldehyde
When ECGs go from spiky to straight,
Its then you know spirits have died.

On the Radio

2005-01-29T15:11:00.000+05:30

A crackling in the air
Then crystal clear music
A side of Banter
Ears are tuned in
Voices doled out

Messages overt and subliminal
create a circle of communication.
I am King of this Molecular sea
Free to ride the airwaves
Until my crown is tarnished
by Claudia in Hyderabad who doesn't like doing crunches to Iron Maiden

And until now,
I made no rhyme
nor arranged the "verse"
in metered time

so bite me.

Tragic Astral Travel

2005-01-26T16:35:00.015+05:30

Will I ever be free?
Trapped in an eyeball and on an elbow.
So prosaic and methodical
Heads will roll
And in them are trapped those orbs
Revolution in theory
Stuck in a landmine victory
When the door closes after bitterness
The nicety is lost in space
Holding stars in my hands
And the moon between my toes.
Wishful willfulness of heavenly stature
Staring blankly into pitch skies
Broken by a rooftop.
Interest is a many splendoured pain
Too excruciating a loss
To count the idiotic win
To kill the unborn
To speak of unkeepable promises
To dream in silent voids
To break inescapable connections
To live in ego
To die in grief.
Circles, after circles, after circles.

Grievance

2005-01-26T16:35:00.014+05:30

One, two, three, four, five….
… whiskey….
And now we’ll just never know will we.
Only I cry.
Because I die sometimes.
Through the night and beyond
Pitter patter like little feet
Or nascent rain
That will never fall.

Night Time Adventures

2005-01-26T16:35:00.013+05:30

VCDs can make your life a living hell
Like forbidden fruit they inhabit your desires
And take over better sense
Like a trip to the bathroom in the middle
Of the night.

For my keyboard

2005-01-26T16:35:00.012+05:30

Technology made me think about technical things
But my keyboard is faster than my pen.
And so the words flowed at break neck speed
To the tune of the one base with 2 satellite speakers
It helps me to put down
Quickly and efficiently
Pauses in between thoughts
Hang over the alphabets staring at me
That will, in a moment, form words
Turning into comprehensible sentences.
The romantic is being fuelled by the classic
And through the symbiosis
Barriers are broken
As binary opposites remain that way
And provide terms of reference
Making sense of situations
Rather than conflicting and contradicting.

I Changed the CD

2005-01-26T16:35:00.011+05:30

You walked into the room
And asked me to switch the music
I mutely did as told
Mid-action you pick up the whisky bottle
And left the room
I stare.
Stuck with your preference
Feel lazy to change it back
And then feel relieved
When you return
Because I did not change the CD again.
Your preference becomes relevant again
And the lapse is sanitized.

Waiters Laughing

2005-01-26T16:35:00.010+05:30

Walking into the pub
In conversation
Thought that the hired help laughed at you
Someone else thinks otherwise
And calms your offended mind.
You offer wordless thanks
For the restoration of dignity.

The Rush

2005-01-26T16:35:00.009+05:30

Euphoric sensations fly about
Like the many worded poems
Creation is truly wonderful
Like those obscure haikus
That make sense in abstract revelation
It’s the Osho-esque objectivity
That surfaces in the art.
When the brain and hand
Shut the door on the villains
Personality, ego and master mind.

The phone rang
And the thread is broken
When conversation comes in.

Stupid Poetry

2005-01-26T16:35:00.008+05:30

It doesn’t rhyme
This thing
It stares stupidly from the page
Gawking like a retarded college girl
With too much lipstick on her face
But it speaks the truth
Because it is too stupid to lie
And it comes from the soul
Because it has no other root
It does not worry about convention
Because it is dumb to propriety
Therefore as far as it is concerned
Shakespeare is a big bastard
Because deep down it is uncomprehending
But never jealous

Fish Food

2005-01-26T16:35:00.007+05:30

He swims consistently
The Piscean without a real sense of direction
Round and round he goes.
Not knowing what he wants
Only knows that he’s searching
And then once in a while
Round pellets rain from above
And he leaves his circular orbit
Rises up to investigate
And then he eats.
Greedily after his constant tail chase
Of searching
And then he returns to that very same lap
Because he knows no other way.

Hunger pangs over the kitchen sink

2005-01-26T16:35:00.006+05:30

We stare at the dirty dishes with sadness.
The weekend is through
Imminent Monday herself prompts an excuse.
And they lie in the sink,
Forgotten.

Once they pleased us with food
Now they repel us with scraps.
And hunger fades away like the weekend
As we look on with mutual desolation.
Hunger was the bond,
And now fatigue.

The Visitors

2005-01-26T16:35:00.005+05:30

New people are scary creatures with big ears and eyes,
That bore into the back of your head.
Run away… run like mad and leave the hills out,
Everybody will know where to find you in that cliché.
They are Charles Manson and Marilyn Monroe, all rolled into one.
Attractive and venomous,
They flirt with your realm of magic and mystery
And create a void inside you with the first encounter.
If it’s meant to be,
The void turns into a familiar breathing on your neck.

The Lost Day

2005-01-26T16:35:00.004+05:30

Breeding of contempt for
The Tamil movie on screen.
The one with background dancers wearing helmets.
12 of them.
And the actress in sunglasses,
Tights and a tee shirt.
Dancing madly
All going slither –slither.

Tidal

2005-01-26T16:35:00.003+05:30

Restless lethargy
The consuming wave.
No crests to ride on
The woman sings soulfully
To things I don’t connect with
But enjoy as if they were there
Not because I want to be
But because she’s talking about feeling your dreams
And so I realize mine
What she’s crooning about.
Indian villages don’t come to mind
Only foreign situations
Of lovers and promises they hold
Never is a promise.
Never is a good idea when lethargy stalls all else.

No Rhyme or Meter

2005-01-26T16:35:00.002+05:30

I’m feeling high.
Life goes by real slow.
The bottomless abyss is lying exposed
Questions stir and float.
Black coffee waiting near by,
Congealing and cooling off summer love.
Utterly naked,
Except for my clothes.
Can you wrap your arms around me?

There’s something that belonged to me,
That you have.
It’s got a bar code, price tag,
Came in a plastic bag.
The consciousness police are vigilant
After letting off steam on an extended coffee break
The alter of silence is thrown open.
Come pay your respects to the priestess.
Pregnant is she divine.

Guitar fingers stretching across frets.
Will and wish to do the same.
Stretch like a rubber band to the other side of the room.
Where your presence tingles.
Clanging, the bandwagon arrives.
Loud crashes and spotlights shine.
Breathing prances and leaps around me.
Only your still serenity attracts me.
Everything else melts like a tired candle.

Affirmation.
I exist in your realm.
My untouched treasure.

Writer's Bloc

2005-01-26T16:35:00.001+05:30

A straining, fat water balloon,
Like a plump raisin,
Cooked and ready to explode
Words like champagne,
Being shaken in a bottle.
On the threshold of a cataclysm.
The last leg of a silent race.
The tip of the pen, like a bee hive.
Buzzing with activity.
Nothing leaving save the few hesitant words.
Like a bee swerving to avoid a neighbor.
A sense of anticipation,
Feel a tingling in the entire mid section of your body.
Slowly pulling the finger out of the hole in the dam,
As the cracks spread across it,
Like a mad, spreading tree root.
The pit of your stomach,
An endless burrow of activity.
And your hand, a sentry with a stay order.

Tragicus

2005-01-26T16:35:00.000+05:30

There once lived a woman,
Robed in familial mirth.
And pleasures simplified and prevalent in grand degrees
Blind to and yet gnawed upon by the ignorance of her new birth

Travellers she encountered in great numbers.
At first, seeking their company,
As she traversed the lengths of their lives
Yet as the feelings of discontent grew and widened her periphery

Of visions of possibilities scarcely noted
In her quiet, happy and unassuming demeanor,
Intellect and reasoning seemed not grown,
Yet the experiences of others set fast a rancour

So potent and cancerous in its wake,
Of absent words where images took root,
That she longed and yearned to feel them close.
And find some universal truth

She disrobed and it slipped beneath her shoes,
As she left her warm hearth and loving smiles behind,
And spent her days in pursuit of an ideal
That she could barely discern yet felt unclouding in her mind

There he stood in a quiet light,
The light of an incandescent love, she presumed
Because it glowed so very brilliantly bright
That upon that gaze her life was doomed

At first he remained a precious treasure,
Far from her reach though visible to the eye
But she strove to follow the horizons sinking orb,
To the end of the world where it dipped with a sigh

Like a nun in a heretic cloister,
She set an empty canvas at his knee
Slit her fingers on by one,
Allowing the life blood to flow rich, dark and free

Then she cracked and broke off bits of bone,
And lovingly sacrificed her fine silken hair
Wound it around the assorted fragments and said,
“come, now paint a masterpiece with me.”

Fuelled by the energy of her grace and youth,
He took them and smeared the canvas with vermilion,
And wove garlands of little white lies,
To crown her weary head

As time wore on the easel dries,
The garlands withered and became a wreath,
The picture changed colour and became a machine,
That rang and raged like booted feet with gnashing teeth

The light around still remained,
But the hue turned from white to yellow,
From a jaundice that never leaves the system,
But lingers and surfaces with deaths blow

The divinity she had seen,
Was a thin disguise to a germ that was planted
Of heat and insanity long before born
That purposed the call of her spirit would not be granted

Sadness dripped from her lips,
As anger dropped from her eyes,
In her chest grew a vacuum,
As the gift given slowly dies.

And now she wanders tired and alone,
Across once familiar countries and abodes,
Of warmth and good measure still kindling,
And weeps when good nights are done, behind closed doors

For she will always a stranger now remain,
To the joys of love and eternity,
Never will her old casements be returned,
She dons her new shroud with resigned serenity.

Part 2

Unfettered yet by empty sleeping,
His avenue curved to brutal weeping
How cruel was the sand man elusive,
That forced him to be yet so pensive?

For he knew instantaneously his thoughts would stray,
To loves funeral so stark and gray,
How lively it had been in life and now,
Long dead as the shadow he cast upon her brow.

He grudged and held that she would laugh,
And dance again in her faithful company
But as he lay there, awake and alone in bed,
He knew not that she was already dead.