Prose N Verse

2009-10-04T00:25:00.000-07:00

I am bored of this pattern now

Of being in love with you

It was a beautiful kaleidoscope from which I had seen hues

But now its broken

Its not even black

Its transparent

Makes me see the world as it is

I hate it

My muse is lost

I am no longer a poet

I dive deep in blue and wash away purple

I run round and round to come back to your words

Now I am looking for a point that joins the semicircles

I want to break it, break it forever

Go back to the Eden alone

I am no longer thinking about you

Its just the thoughts that keep coming back to you

__Payal

The Man: JOE

2009-10-02T08:04:00.000-07:00

V1:
Put your hand out the window
And turn back Joe.

Put your head out the window
And turn back Joe.

Your dog did his doodie on my lawn today
I just want you to take it away
All my kids want to do is go out and play
…on their lawn today.

V2:
Put your eyes in your head Joe
And take them home.

Put your hands where I can see ‘em
And take them home.

Your wife ran away and took your name plate
Have some shame Joe, these kids are seven and eight
Just go away, get a new date… Joe.

(Space for a face melting guitar solo, much like Jack Black in ‘School Of Rock’)

Coda:
Joe you’re such a disgrace.
You come last in a one man race.
Now get away from me, Joe.

(All characters in this piece are fictitious. Except JOE, he’s the man)

-Austin.

2009-09-27T14:07:00.000-07:00

लाशें

सब लाशें हैं
सब लाशें हैं
जिंदा कोई नही
सब लाशें हैं

चलती हैं
बोलती हैं
हस्ती कभी
कभी फूंट फूंट के रोती हैं
लाशें
सब लाशें हैं

गिरता है तोह कोई उठता नही
मरने पर मातम में भी कोई आता नही
जीते साथ हैं
मगर हैं कितने अकेले
लाशें
सब लाशें हैं

धड़कनें मशीन है
जस्बात मशीन है
इनकी सीरत भी इन्ही जैसी
बस शक्लें हसीन है
लाशें
सब लाशें हैं

इक पल का ख्वाब है
जो जाता नही
कितना भी बुलाओ
वोह कल आता नही
जिंदा रहने की होड़ में रोज़ मरते
लाशें
सब लाशें हैं

जिंदा कोई नही
सब लाशें हैं...

- Piy

2009-09-14T03:11:00.000-07:00

Death is beautiful and peaceful.
Okuribito (Departures) explains that wonderfully. It deals with the uneasiness that people have regarding death.
The story is about the change in perception of a young man, who suddenly has to see death everyday. With subtle humour in some places places, it deals with the sensitive topic of death that most of us want to avoid and are very uncomfortable dealing with.
It's worth your time.

-Arundhati

Non-nursery rhyme

2009-09-11T12:29:00.000-07:00

Mary had a little lamb
But the lamb was mean to Mary.
Mary tried to get rid of it,
But it refused to leave.
Mary tried a trick or two
yet it did not comply.
Days went by and nights went by
But the lamb stayed on for long.
Mary wished to kill the lamb
But too bad it was already dead.

So Mary, Mary be careful,
Next time you have a lamb.

2009-08-13T09:47:00.000-07:00

In the heart of darkness
There is a light
The immeasurable blinding light.
What a man is
He himself does not know
Pretentious, pretending to be mysterious
He forgets his true self
And gives birth to a shadow

It is in the light that the shadow lives
A life of an unimaginable blinding darkness.
Lies become truth and truth a lie
Till the mask becomes one with the face.

And on one unintentional night
Unable to bear the heat from the light
The man sees himself in the mirror
And is stared back by the mask
So dark, it is darker than the secret
that gave birth to the mask.

The mask can't live with the face because of the light
The face can't live with the world without lying
For how long can truth and lie co-exist
And the wheel of time be immobile?

--Kopal Gautam

THE ROSE THAT GREW FROM CONCRETE : Tupac Shakur

2009-06-30T10:24:00.000-07:00

Did u hear about the rose that grew from a crack
in the concrete
Proving nature's laws wrong it learned to walk
without having feet
Funny it seems but by keeping its dreams
it learned to breathe fresh air
Long live the rose that grew from concrete
when no one else cared!!

The Walrus and The Carpenter by Lewis Carroll

2009-06-23T21:23:00.000-07:00

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?

"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.

New City

2009-06-09T05:26:00.001-07:00

It is almost like a start from the end of the lane
The dead end doesn’t open but takes me through it
I am wrapped in a bizarre quilt
Not feeling cold in the very cold land
The walls are freezing and they merge with me often.
I am dazed and yet at my best
Smiling at all that I come across
Awake nights after nights
Meeting the stars in the other land
Out of love, yet soaked in it
Making acquaintances, looking for my lover
Flashes of days passing in a jiffy
The new city seems apprehensive about me
The buildings collapse often
And the towers keep rising
Reaching an epitome of jammed clouds
Still floating and exploring the city

--Payal

Dude! Yeh galat hai!

2009-05-26T12:24:00.000-07:00

Galti kar li maine
Yaad ho gayi nani
Do glass chai ke saath
Pi li nimbu pani

Galti kar li maine
Kyu ki itni daring?
Socha tha ‘Wah kya rapchick maal hai’
Nikla bobby darling

Galti kar li maine
Kyu li maine doston ki side
Maine socha woh mujhe dhek rahi hai
Par woh nikli cockeyed

Galti kar li maine
Kyu thi charbi khub saari?
Was thinking office nahi jaye, aaj.
Subha ko muster sign kiya. Agli subha ko exit maari.

-Austin.

A Caution To Everybody

2009-05-26T07:47:00.000-07:00

Consider the auk;
Becoming extinct because he forgot how to fly, and could only walk.
Consider man, who may well become extinct
Because he forgot how to walk and learned how to fly before he thinked.

-Ogden Nash

When it is gonna rain this time...

2009-05-25T11:44:00.000-07:00

I would be floating in the sand.
Digging my feet deep into the water.

When it is gonna rain this time...
I would let the umbrella go upside down.
I would catch the first cloud that agrees to take me to the beach.
I would smile and smile and break the ice.

When it is gonna rain this time...
The girls would giggle to not get a penny.
The boys would hide with their black gloves lost.
The old woman neighbour might complain less.

When it is gonna rain this time...
I would be curled in a raindrop.
Sleeping tight.
No rainbow for me.
For I hate sunshine.

When it is gonna rain this time...

--Payal

2009-05-22T05:13:00.001-07:00

Inspiration. Ignition.
Something that kick starts.

Speechless like the wind,
And can not be surpassed.

No hinting traces left behind.
All the gone chances,
Now wither in the hind.

2009-05-21T09:00:00.000-07:00

From darkness into the light
I saw her face, what delight!
She is a moment’s peace
That cannot be acquired
You can get lucky
But its something not really required
For she knows you
As you don’t know her
You think it is love
But ain’t sure if you can tell her
It is a submission
Where all you take is a given
You try to understand
But there is no reason

Only an open prison, hard to break
Like an ironical fate
You think you’re given, what you take

- Piy

English language

2009-05-05T23:30:00.000-07:00

This is a poem that inspired me a lot and for once made me think,writing poems could be fun.

Some words have different meanings,
and yet they’re spelt the same.
A cricket is an insect,
to play it — it’s a game.

On every hand, in every land,
it’s thoroughly agreed,
the English language to explain
is very hard indeed.

Some people say that you’re a dear,
yet dear is far from cheap.
A jumper is a thing you wear,
yet a jumper has to leap.

It’s very clear, it’s very queer,
and pray who is to blame
for different meanings to some words,
pronounced and spelt, the same?

A little journey is a trip,
a trip is when you fall.
It doesn’t mean you have to dance
whene’er you hold a ball.

Now here’s a thing that puzzles me:
musicians of good taste
will very often form a band —
I’ve one around my waist!

You spin a top, go for a spin,
or spin a yarn may be —
yet every spin’s a different spin,
as you can plainly see.

Now here’s a most peculiar thing —
’twas told me as a joke —
a dumb man wouldn’t speak a word,
yet seized a wheel and spoke.

A door may often be ajar,
but give the door a slam,
and then your nerves receive a jar —
and then there’s jars of jam.

You’ve heard, of course, of traffic jams,
and jams you give your thumbs.
And adders, too, one is a snake,
the other adds up sums.

A policeman is a copper,
it’s a nickname (impolite!)
yet a copper in the kitchen
is an article you light.

On every hand, in every land,
it’s thoroughly agreed —
the English language to explain
is very hard indeed!

Written by Harry Hemsley

Irregular Stream

2009-05-05T08:49:00.000-07:00

An irregular stream of dreams is passing by,
The eyes are wide open and the world is in my arms.

There is someone somewhere looking at me,
I am not sure where I am.

Confined spaces, blocked tears,
There is a rather faint smile on the lips,
Someone in my dreams is feeling scared.

I politely dismiss the stream.
Walk in parallel.

Should I float in it?
Should I not?

Payal

something is out of place...

2009-05-02T12:47:00.000-07:00

It’s not very usual, something is certainly out of place;
I am not yet sure, maybe I've lost something I can’t replace...!

What is a man to think, what is a man to say;
If, on a bright sunny morning, his skies turn all grey?

In the melancholy eyes of memory, I try to dig it out;
But what is it I look for, that still remains in doubt!

What is this feeling, the burden I feel on the heart;
Why won’t it stop, why does it keep tearing me apart?

True love never crossed me, of that I had grown sure;
Then what is it that lends me, this pain of love so pure?!

The storyteller

2009-04-28T04:17:00.000-07:00

He travelled to undiscovered lands,
He met people who aren’t born yet.

From the mystical river,
Emerged the storyteller each and every night.
Waking me up from the midnight to the moon,
Weaving yards and yards of stories.

He kept his hands on my eyes,
And whispered in my ears.
Words of dreams, words of fiction.
Words of reality, words of lies.

His imagination goes as far as reality,
His reality is only but his imagination.

His characters die with him in the river,
Only to wake me up in the middle of the night.

Payal

2009-04-28T00:16:00.000-07:00

Smiles pushed out of parted lips.
Heavy hearts that never smile and tip.
Hazy dreams, occupied with silent screams.
People so weary, with hearts so empty.

Your search is on. And forever it will be.
Eaten snow for lunch yet, or sipped water from the sea?
Please be on time, to butter your toast.
Or you’ll be late for your steaming latte
and force it while its cold.

The birds are humming
but you don’t have to hear…
the thoughts in your head are louder and clear.

-Arundhati

From slumdog to...

2009-04-19T00:08:00.000-07:00

She tapped on the glass.
She gestured for a rupee.
I looked at her. I looked away. I looked at her again.

‘I’m not going to give you any money’. Of course I wasn’t going to.

And then I remembered…

There’s always something sweeter than a rupee. ‘Where did I see it last? Ahh, there it is.’

I pulled out the two candies I had in my bag.
Worth Rs. 2.00
Gave it to her.
Take eat.

She look at me. She looked at the candy.
She threw it back on the glass. It fell to the floor.

‘Tu kha’ is all she said.

That slum-bitch.

-Austin.

An Ode to My Childhood

2009-04-12T09:21:00.000-07:00

Today, memories are looking through the glass,
Of the debates where no one would ever lose,
Of the evenings, where we always walked till the no man’s land,
Of the mornings, where the sun would melt in our eyes,
Of the nights, where the moon was right over our head,
Of the real stories about real people,
Narrated with passion,
Always with a glint in the eyes,
Of the white lies,
Of the black truths,
Of the magic webs,
Of the insane imagination,
Of no role models,
Of the stars that we always managed to count,
Of the moon who was at our beck and call,
Of the tears that could move the earth,
Of the laughter that could make the devil jealous.

Why so serious?

2009-03-31T10:14:00.000-07:00

Why so serious?
Joker's dad asked him!
Why so serious?
Joker joked with me.

The smile streched from one end to another.
Its elastic almost ready to snap.

The full moon stories were told in vain.
Some humorous innuendoes were narrated with fake pleasure.
The sky crystal clear and the throat was blocked.
The air was so plaesant and the brain was jammed.

Why so serious?
Joker pointed at the lovely weather.
In an answer, it burst open.
Rained, till it drenched him.

Crying in the rain my friend?

Joker, Joker, Joker
No need to be a cynic, I spoke for a change.

He turned around, smiled,
The elastic stretched and broke
He walked away.

I was just being a joker.

-----Payal

The blog is dying

2009-03-31T05:41:00.000-07:00

The blog is dying.
So some people say.

Do we have enough hours in a single day?

To churn out a few words.
A few lines.
A few thoughts.

I don’t know.

Let me be inspire.
Let me perspire.
Let the AC not work for a while.

May MS-word get flooded.
Let the waves take us through.
Let the sky be yellow, like jaundice.
Not just plain ol’ mundane blue.

- Austin.

Blink

2009-03-26T00:41:00.000-07:00

The phone call went unanswered,
The smile was fading away.
Your broken silences,
My half hearted attempts.

You kept on moving and always stayed at the same spot.
The place where I would look for you would never change.
It is so difficult to find that spot again.

The twirl of the smoke reached the sky last night.
In my dream, you flew away on the smoke cloud.
The line was darkening
The boundary was blurring

The bell rang till dawn
The smile wanted to touch your lips.
It quivered often,
Did not find you in the dark.

Blink.

--Payal

SOB.SIGH.GRUNT

2009-03-25T03:58:00.000-07:00

I’m so poor
I can be a beggar
Forever, forever if things don’t change

I’m so low I can be a door mat
Forever, forever if I don’t change

I feel like a tsunami is over
An earthquake is happening
A whirlwind is on its way

There is a pale grey boring face
Staring cynically at its own fate
Its lips so cheerless
Its eyes so tearless

I'm so sad but i cant cry a half glass full
Its just so bad, i always think its half empty

If I fail I must feel
that I was never meant to reign
If I prevail?
Oh how will I prevail!??
I’M SO FU*%*&* PESSIMISTIC!!!

This is dedicated to all you heartless cynics out there. If reading this gives you a feel of de ja vu, then I suggest you look in the mirror and say this ten times a day “Soy un perdedor”. Nevertheless, I share no emotional attachment with this piece.

- happyTotto:) :) :)

Its not that I can't write poetry

2009-03-23T10:17:00.000-07:00

Its not that I cant write poetry,
Its just that i'd rather watch The Big Lebowski;
Its not that there is a problem with the verse that is free,
Its jus that it doesnt make a logical sense,
When I randomly miss a comma, a colon and an apostrophe,
And attribute it to the oh-so-cool poetic license!

--Notgogol

PS: Notgogol is my "blog friend" who wrote it while we were arguing about poetry. Payal

2009-03-23T05:56:00.000-07:00

Would you stay?

I haven’t laughed since so many days
I haven’t smiled since so many days
To tell you the truth, I have not been living in so many ways
And I know it would be unfair to ask you to come now
But if I ask, would you stay?

So many things I wish to forget
Pretend like they never happened
Like the kid who falls down while no one’s looking
Embarrassed, he picks himself up as if nothing happened
and starts to play
And I know it would be unfair to be that kid now
But if I choose to be, would you stay?

Put down those ten things you’d like to do before you die
One would be the Sistine Chapel and the other would be to fly
But somewhere between the ninth and the tenth
I might just cross your mind on that lazy day
And I know it would be unfair to ask you to spend your life with me now
But if I ask, would you stay?

- Piy

2009-03-23T01:45:00.000-07:00

On the canvas called night

If this were a dream
You would be the writer
And I would be the poem
Like a book written to be read
But not meant to be opened
Mysteries would unravel distances
With your lips as close to me
As the words mixed up for their meaning
Same but quite different
Both hopelessly in love
One with the poet
One with the poem

- Piy

Ek Cup Basi Coffee

2009-03-22T08:40:00.000-07:00

(yah yek imaaginaarii situashan men likhii gaee kavitaa hai... jo sach men yah savaal poochhatii hai kii in sab men imaaginaarii kitanaa hai aur sach kitanaa)

is kavitaa ko men kyon likh rahaa hoon yah baat men soch rahaa hoon
apane haath men padii laal kaalii nataraaj kii pensil ko apane nokiyaa phon se kompare kar has rahaa hoon
ab tak tumhaaraa kyaa reachshan rahaa hogaa yah soch rahaa hoon
kaise biike chalaate chalaate ye kavitaa sochii yah hii soch rahaa hoon
tum kahii ghadii kii suee ko n dekh lo yah soch soch men dar rahaa hoon
phir doosare pal aas paas dekh yah pal sach hai is baat ko jaanch rahaa hoon
kaard pepar ke is kaafii kap se kaafii phoonk phoonk kar pii rahaa hoon
is do saal puraanii kaafii ko chakh kar kos rahaa hoon
aas paas phir dekh kar has rahaa hoon
ab tak kavitaa khtam ho jani chaiyeh thii yah soch rahaa hoon
yah kavitaa kahaan se kahaan jaa rahii hai is baat ke liye khud ko kos rahaa hoon
phir pannaa palat kar aage ise lih rahaa hoon
ab tak tumako impres kiyaa kii nahiin yah soch rahaa hoon
yah kavitaa inglish men kyon nahiin likhii yah sochate sochate aur bhii bhaashaa kaa traansaleshan soch rahaa hoon
sou se ded sou kii spiid par chalatii apanii haartabiit ko mahasoos kar rahaa hoon
is vakt tak phon n bajaa hogaa shaayad yah sach ho is baat se khush ho rahaa hoon is laain ke baad kahiin tum apanaa phon sakariin n dekh lo is baat ke liye khud ko kos rahaa hoon
phir yek baar apane baase kaafii ke kap ko dekh kuchh buraa soch rahaa hoon
yah kavitaa men sach men yaa bhram men tumhe pad kar sunaa rahaa hoon, yah jaanane kii koshish kar rahaa hoon
sach aur bhram kii laain no ko dhundhalii hotii dekh sar pakad rahaa hoon
yah merii haath kii kaafii bhii kahiin kaalpanik toh nahiin yah soch kar haath ke kap ko niiche rakh rahaa hoon

Agnee Song Lyrics (Contest Entry)

2009-03-20T06:42:00.000-07:00

Chanced upon this contest by MTV and Agnee.
You can hear Agnee's composition here . This is what i sent!

JO THA LIKHA

Na kaha
Maine na kuch socha
Par vohi hua
Jo tha likhaaaaaaa

Dooba tha
Unkahi bantoon mein
Lachaar khawabo mein
Mein jag gayaaaa

Na jaane kyu aae khuda
Kyun ho gaya mein u lapattha
Bheed mein akela reh gaya
Kuch is tarah…

Kay jaise saya ho raat ka
Ya ho meethi si koi davaah
Ya ho koi raah unchaha
Ya unchuaah

Na kaha
Maine na kuch socha
Par vohi hua
Jo tha likhaaaaaaa

(lead)

Teri yaadon ko kyu maine rakha hai?
Teri baatein ab mujhe kyu sataye?
Teri yaadon ko maine kyu rakha hai?
Koi toh mujhe kuch bataye.

Toh ab mein kuch arz karu ya nahi?

Na kaha
Maine na kuch socha
Par vohi hua
Jo tha likhaaaaaaa

Na jaane kyu aae khuda
Kyun ho gaya mein u lapattha
Bheed mein akela reh gaya
Kuch is tarah…

Kay jaise saya ho raat ka
Ya ho meethi si koi davaah
Ya ho koi raah unchaha
Ya unchuaah

Na kaha
Maine na kuch socha
Par vohi hua
Jo tha likhaaaaaaa

- Austin.

"Call of the lover"

2009-03-20T04:04:00.000-07:00

The lush green valleys,
Clouds floating in the sky,
Back home in the labyrinth of alleys
faces smile as you walk by;
All these know something;
that I've invited you over.
My reasons may bear many names
But clearly it's the call of the lover.

-Amisha

Limerick gibberish thrimelian slimmerick

2009-03-20T02:48:00.000-07:00

Poems aren't always about languages.What if you don't know the language wont you enjoy it?

Eerum paravum chara varavum
Thar para maravum.
Nila thulla theera poruvum

- malayalimic

Kabee pal puraaiche
Pe-hee-rav maveeche
Mahee ron duveesche
Korovon lapiche
Haruva saba thapeese
Marapeetsee nabeelee.

- maslomic

Pre pruck posta poleneeesa
Pethro pillonpera pruva peera
Paras pruvassia pillon poopa
Piyin pyin pillapa peepa
Pelousmous porir pameel

- franpic

for poems like these who needs languages.

Insomnia

2009-03-20T01:21:00.000-07:00

In the deep dungeons of my eyes,
sleep sat curled up like a frightened cat.
Not listening to my voice or pretending not to listen.
The room was dark and the night was bright.
It refused to see the world.
The corner was its world, it whispered to me.
The stars fell over my head,
each burning with a peaceful pain.
I yearned and yearned,
but sleep refused to listen.
I meandered last few years, the next few years, even my death.
Centuries passed, ages walked back.
But sleep paid no heed.
It smiled sometimes, a sheepish smile.
Making me think that the day is near.
I opened the empty eyes to come back to the dazzling darkness.
I have stopped talking to it now.
The night is my haven.

--Payal

The Chimney Sweeper by William Blake

2009-03-19T09:13:00.000-07:00

A little black thing among the snow,
Crying "'weep! 'weep!" in notes of woe!
"Where are thy father and mother, say?"
"They are both gone up to the church to pray.

"Because I was happy upon the heath,
And smiled among the winter's snow,
They clothed me in the clothes of death,
And taught me to sing the notes of woe.

"And because I am happy and dance and sing,
They think they have done me no injury,
And are gone to praise God and his Priest and King,
Who make up a heaven of our misery."

---A poem by one of my favourite poets. He is from the Romantic era which was quite boring as such. But what I like about him is that he wrote about some hard hitting ground realities of that time instead of fantasizing about nature or women like Wordsworth or Shelly.

Payal

for my earphones.

2009-03-19T06:53:00.000-07:00

Drowning every sound
your lovely voice filled my ears
there was room for your endless chatter...
about heartbeats, shaded birds or a silent tears

So long, bygone
You’re the one I loved to hear

I could take you with me on a beach holiday
We never did go, but i know it would be fine
While the sun shines, we would make hay...
Sit by the fire and sip on some wine?

So long, bygone
You’re the one I loved to hear

Now when the music is blaring around
I miss you even more
I'm thinking of your hushed sound
This ode to you, flows out from a heart that’s sore

So long, bygone
You’re the one I loved to hear

-Arundhati.
Ps: This poem is dedicated to my lost earphones.
I hope they come back someday. Sigh.

LOL (not!)

2009-03-17T12:34:00.000-07:00

I stood there, alone
As they joyfully laughed
Just a step or two might have been taken
But for them, the happiness came floating on a raft.

I tripped and fell
For them it was sheer bliss
The smiles were enchanting
Even the blind eye couldn’t miss.

I wondered why they were doing this to me
I wondered why the happiness wasn’t new to me
I wondered why claps filled the sky
I wondered how
I wondered why

And then my heart sank deep
Into the pits, where memories sleep
‘Why?’ I found myself asking, once again.
I didn’t even speak a word to them
Yet, somehow, they were my friends.

So I let them laugh
I let them cry
I let them meet me, eye to eye.

That’s when I gladly upturned the frown.
After all, I’m just a Clown.

Blog template

2009-03-17T11:19:00.000-07:00

If anyone out here wants the template to change

a. Please speak now, or forever hold your peace
b. Please let us know what the template should be like (Click HERE for some good blog templates and then return here)
c. Please read point 'a' and 'b' again, so you aren't confused.

Thanks

Austin

(PS: i like the one currently up and this other one )

2009-03-17T03:03:00.000-07:00

________________________________________
A Poem by Nichita Stãnescu

Tell me, if I caught you one day
and kissed the sole of your foot,
wouldn't you limp a little then,
afraid to crush my kiss?

-ps:I love this poem and wanted to share it.
Arundhati.

Something I'd read. And liked.

2009-03-17T00:09:00.000-07:00

Though my mother was already two years dead
Dad kept her slippers warming by the gas,
put hot water bottles her side of the bed
and still went to renew her transport pass.

You couldn't just drop in. You had to phone.
He'd put you off an hour to give him time
to clear away her things and look alone
as though his still raw love were such a crime.

He couldn't risk my blight of disbelief
though sure that very soon he'd hear her key
scrape in the rusted lock and end his grief.
He knew she'd just popped out to get the tea.

I believe life ends with death, and that is all.
You haven't both gone shopping; just the same,
in my new black leather phone book there's your name
and the disconnected number I still call.

Ekta.

2009-03-16T22:07:00.000-07:00

When i decided to write a random anthem, I gave myself a glass of bland rum
to write about .. ..............say....... Phantom.That purple skinned Ghost who walks.

Kit walker is his name. His ring, his claim to fame.
Superman,Spiderman? well... they're not the same
I feel like this is a game
to make things sound the same
Oh who is to blame !
payal i know this is lame.
two smileys for you dame :):)

oh how i want it to rhyme..feels like its crime
But my intentions prime, i want it to rhyme

What else can i do when there's no time
I cant do mime, blogs don't feature them

hah.. so much energy spent, i tend to mend this
as if there's a dent.no no wait .. this is the END.

-anonytottomous

Randomisation

2009-03-16T06:37:00.000-07:00

Lost for words
Guess that’s how I feel
When I pen down thoughts that are real or surreal

Give me a glance
Or even a ear
Punish me for wrong grammar
I really have no fear

Greater things have been written.
Greater things have been said.
But are they greater than what’s in your pint sized head?

Grave as it may sound
You’re all alone, not surround
By lights that you know not
By thought you throw out

Bizarre it is, I know
Stop reading it, stop making it a show
You didn’t pay for the tickets yesterday
You really didn’t want to …I know.

(PS: I’m not stoned)

Austin D’souza

Wahin ke wahin...

2009-03-16T04:33:00.000-07:00

2009-03-16T03:53:00.000-07:00

Should I author an expression
for us all to know when I’m gone?
Or should I grey another day
Or rather yet depart undone?

Wilt with time, in thoughts of you
Till stones are silt and finer still.
What use is it to tell the world
When you’re hard to believe, hence true?

My illusion of alphabets
Won’t you evolve to flesh and dew?
For they call our romance baseless
And me—a writer by pure excuse.

But if you do, step out of my head
I’ll lose your beauty, you’ll lose my mind
So, damn them my love, O stain of my
Pigment of Imaginations.

-Shaxeb S.

The Guest Room

2009-03-16T03:49:00.000-07:00

Through lost highways, and study failures,
And an ascending burning bridge ‘tween.
In this confinement of voyeur walls,
her beauty was lost, my beast was found.

Picture her spine, and picture my tongue,
like a canvas and a crayon.
Drilling pagan tattoos in our minds,
the art of indifferent love making.

Undress an arbitrary body.
Unleash the sick feeling of unrest.
To live down a past broken romance,
to choke on the feeling of succumb.

In company of an accomplice,
evenings are horridly beautiful.

(The 4th sonnet from a collection of five titles 'Rooms')

-Shaxeb S.

Permanent Blackener

2009-03-16T03:48:00.000-07:00

Addiction, and another,
Extreme points of the line I walked.
I’ve been oscillating between these milestones
for as long as I can’t remember.

Then I pulled out, one day,
The day I stood in the center of these extreme dots,
And walked straight down
And became a spot myself.

And we continued to love each other.
But I was no more a slave,
I was the outsider from inside
who completed this love triangle.

It’s me in the corner,
And addiction and addiction
In the other two.
In between the three of us
Lies the void.

-Shaxeb S.

2009-03-16T03:45:00.000-07:00

Like a drop in the ocean,
he disppeared in my dreams.
There was passion but the urge to kill the dream was stronger.
The life would go on, like how we all do.
The eyes would smile for a really long time.
A portion of sleep will reside in the hell.
I would want to partake a piece of hell then.
The heaven cried for the dream.
It kept disappearing how 'he' disappeared in the dream.
I want the portion of the hell, not the dream.
Payal

about a girl

2009-03-16T02:43:00.000-07:00

A really brave girl with a timid soul…
Just too much of a child but still getting old.
So full of contradictions
So unsure…
Too aggressive but still scared of gore.

I know you’re searching for the real me
But I’m so full of contradictions…
Why can’t you see?

I know I get excited
I know I always count…
But they’re only chickens
You don’t have to frown

It’s ok if I fool myself
Cause that’s what everyone is
Even if we don’t know it
That’s what we really are

From where we are right now in life…
Sensibility is way too far

-Arundhati.

(Just to give this blog a head start, and to make my friend P feel better, I dug up something from my blog archive. However, you can expect something fresh very soon.)

Welcome guys!

2009-03-15T05:07:00.001-07:00

Hey guys,
I can't explain how excited I am to start this group.
For starters, the inspiration to start this group came from the movie Dead Poets Society featuring Robin Williams.
The basic idea of the group is that the members can put poems, stories, prose, or just random thoughts. The whole point is to start this “interesting” group where a bunch of like-minded people can meet and put their creative writing across and share it with each other.
The second level of this group will be (once I am sure it’s working!) to start a prose n verse session once a month at my house (or any other interesting venue) over coffee or food or beer or smokes or Old Monk...(whatever works).
In both the places (blog and the sessions), we can put our original stuff and also the stuff by other authors/poets that has inspired us at any given time!
Now that you are here, please feel free to change the layout or the name of the blog if you feel like. And ofcourse, start writing. :)

Also, anyone who lands here and interested in being a part of the group, please drop me a mail at lyricsandwords@gmail.com

PS: I have invited only a few people for now. If you know someone who would be interested in joining then please feel free to share the password and login ID.
2nd PS: Please write your name at the end of your posts. Thanks :)

Payal