Canvas of your Mind

spanish spells of spiral rainbows,
ringing reels of never ending wheels,
streaming thoughts these and those,
a faint memory lingers up so close,
crashin', hoppin' and crossin' strange souls,
drawing loops around eleven blue moons,
isolating strands from a wizard's brown brooms,
this world we walk in a tunnel within a tunnel,
to a white light that coils into a top selling gospel,
euphoria, like blood rushing through star links,
monks walking walks, rebels of insane sanity,
cellular beings conversing cosmic ideas,
in this mindless, lunatic transmosphere,
whom we call almighty, i call cosmos,
painting his masterpiece, grandest of all,
overlapping hearts of belated despair,
and hormonal tricks of magic lust,
waking me up from half forgotten dreams,
why did the summer go so quickly?
was it something that i said?
lovers shoring along, the shores of your cavern,
like autumn turnin winter, images they unwind,
drifting past memories, in the canvas of your mind!!

Crisis

Tonight's a different tale. He turned his back behind blue blinds. He turned so hard like she were a grounded balloon, landed from the purest of space, like a feather swaying her tail one beat at a time. He turned towards a blackened tattoo, mesmerized by the sole beauty of a witch's broom. A chapter later, she turned too, but to walk away in fragility, I heard her whisper in a far away land. I let it be while the bloke watched her take one wobbly foot in the front the other on this midnight street and walk away. Another city faded into the night. The breeze sang its silent song, so shrill, so ghostly, so lonely. 

These are a retroholic's confessions. My imaginary friends live up well to their names, Imaginary. Knowledge, wisdom, money, smoke, civilization; breathe their own stench. My rucksack diary lays amidst cinders while secret pleasures seek their stairway. I have held on to you for a while now and I will for some time to come. I'm trying hard not to be the obvious and I win every game I play. They say change is for the good and if that's not a lie, I have gone on to become the best of now. We put on culture like an overcoat and these are but socially acceptable behavioral traits. What happens when the sun shines during the summer? Do we undo the coats we mask ourselves in? The nexus of universal being where you exist is the most immediate zone of one's universe and this is what one needs to be bothered about. I wouldn't call it egocentric because I wish it were. On this night sea journey, I have roved all my baggage away to be left with just my feet, disinherited many words of love, of pain and of rain; all in the speeding train. It has gotten quite random in my shoes; it itches me. I wont dwell upon it too much but I'll rove my way towards my field of vision; I call it my mystical dimension. Obscure, divine, strange, wild, orphic it is where the ship sails. 

Ouch!! Having paid you a visit, I've bought me some electronic ache which pleads me now to pull the brake. You're invited to my lectures on trivalized life, but if you show some patience. I move to the edge of the bed to say goodbye when lightning struck this misty valley. Humanity was given a chance to sculpt for the gods to watch in awe. They watch alright, but in a blind alleys. Evolution has gone wrong at some point in time and only if one were to take a step back and forth again, we'd breathe a localized cultivation. Sanity has gotten alien and by the day, I await a logic bomb to explode on this soil while I take a step towards a momentary hibernation. 

Swinish Dream

Before paper bills and money

We'd share all those beans,

Wild flowers too and honey

Not anymore but in lucid dreams

I'd strike a chord

One maybe two

But if you climb aboard

Many more, I'll show you too

With no baggage wish I were walkin'

Roads traveled and those not, havin' some fun

Sigh those bills!! no I ain't complainin'

Here on the eleventh floor, I'm just cleanin' my gun

Downed my whiskey, while the peeler swayed

I kissed goodbye to a beautiful flight

Lay rocking by the moonshade  

"Make that a double" I said, "its a cold one tonight"

Before paper bills and money

Cosmic harmony was the terrestrial theme

By the Clyde over tomorrow's journey

I'll Breathe My Swinish Dream!!

One Last Supper

the story goes alongside the rising dawn,

so much 'o flaked rice left unattended,

dances out o tune too, grazing just,

why blend in while one could stand out?

heartfelt days are many, for whose

drains we let our ears out not just from the rears,

satisfy my soul, my society has died a death,

few heroes letting go, new ones listenin', to winds,

strange, maybe of change,

intoxicated rush o senses, for one last supper,

we walk to the hazy blue ambiance,

where dames strip for survival, how graceful,

over time that one soulful has exposed,

my sacrifice, my little one, my smile,

i'll drown tonight to slumber,

maybe i'll visit your page again,

maybe we'll chase the speeding dawn again!!

en route...

"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, 
There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 
There is society, where none intrudes, 
By the deep sea, and music in its roar: 
I love not man the less, but Nature more, 
From these our interviews, in which I steal 
From all I may be, or have been before, 
To mingle with the Universe, and feel 
What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal." 
-Lord Gordon Byron

"Society is afraid of alonedom, like lonely hearts are wasting away in basements,

like people must have problems if, after a while, nobody is dating them. But lonely is a freedom that breathes easy and weightless and lone is healing if you make it.

Perhaps in the interest of loving oneself, perhaps all those slogans from preschool over to high school's groaning were tokens for holding the lonely at bay. Cuz if you're happy in your head than solitude is blessed and lonely is okay" 
-Tanya Davis

Turning Tables

Over smiles gliding away towards the dim light,
smile I; but in random strangeness am I?
Rapid prototyping I mean every single quark,
that Oh my sweet sugar! I too have a mark,
from that rain that whispered to you and me,
whispered smiles, tears and fears;
Dreams many; good, bad and ugly,
Copper reflection on waters even,
Amidst viscous colloidal air we crawl,
we crawl, we wander with the ghost,
sculpting puddles of mud into shapes,
shapes we knew one too many, A ritual; 
a melodic romance, a trance; how spiritual!!
Dangling and lingering, on cozy clouds,
conversations lie hanigin', pretendin', being!!
Unharmed random rainlets, dropping,
screaming, loving, inspiring living,
masking inner selves, a little guilty,
a little blooded, my little beloved!!
underneath religious rain,
sculpting carbon dance under raining eagles,
wondered if I was turning tender tables!!

Bucket List

Drapes for windows anew, imitating neighbourhood too,

Furniture rearranged, pictures too; all in blue,

Watchin’, dreamin’ lucid at the porch, of you;

Lay hanging on by the leash, I wait to let go,

Like magic birthday candles reignite, reignite,

Thoughts raced of rats and Tremor Christ,

Dried tears shed tumbling down as I cried;

With every moment I lay, I lay inspired;

I’ll make my yellow bucket list,

This’ll also include in it some of Budapest,

I’ll head off maybe from Scarborough,

Go all the way to Bali with packs of Marlboro,

And maybe then, I’d have answered;

All those questions that have lingered,

And maybe then, I’d have lived,

All those rights and wrongs, greeted and treated,

I’ll travel alone but not lonely,

My feet, my only carriage, I’ll carry;

I’ll carry me home one night!!