Thursday, November 25, 2010

Gossamer

Speak to him.
He will move mountains
like poets of yore.
Stop the subways,
like radicals of now.


And every like will be--
the first bite into cotton candy.
Sweet and fresh as you want it to be.




Naïveté of the eyelash,
stop holding lies from the future,
speak now.
From the posse of a poet from the past, rose the Scientist.
Wide and strong;
who gave stones for a song.


-

'Precious?,' I asked.
'I picked them at a jamboree.'
'Nevertheless.'
'Precious?'
'Yes.'
...
...
...

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Want a battle?

Try the mind;
and not fields of the blind.

Reader: (Rhetorically) Which would you hoot for? A battle of the mind or one on the field? Which, oh, which?

-

Only to show what it is like once on Tiersen's music.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Remember. The hardwood is only a layer firmly covering and holding a bed of cotton and a million butterflies. Only because it'd be chaos otherwise.

--

(Corniness apart) *wicked glee**the pretending to be haughty smile, tone and eye roll* Do we need reasons, really, to celebrate, loves and lives?

A Pray'r

I wish you were around; like God all the time and a Godsend during these trying times.

Monday, November 8, 2010

I should have almost finished my coursework and started on the lab by now.
Whatamidoinghere. Whatamidoinghere. I want to go yelping around like a kid who is waiting to go to school (grad, in this case!).

Friday, November 5, 2010

Tainted ~~~~

Sitara told herself, "And one day, you will continue being the poem, painting, and music of my life." Such was she for the man in her life and such was his nimble love for her. And such was their art that now precipitates from the mêlée of the hard world.

There will be time ~~
there will be time.

--

I know there's not been anything much to my writing of late apart from its theatrics. It's just a limbic phase. Just.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

So, don't wash any of your linen in public. But of course, you can dry them out there later and get all those jaw-dropped, jealous stares.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Each of our hippety hoppity lives.
Waltz.

-

I forgot the original line (which sounded much better and was killed by an unintentional interruption by Harini) and had to post this as a compromise.