Wishes

"I wish you were..", he said.
"I wish you were..", she said.
I wish..
What was wished did not matter.

Next time

Next time, give a little less,
in a fight where neither could ever win.

Next time, take a little more time,
to think, where nothing really could be done.

Next time, when you know in your heart,
dont be afraid of being wrong.

Next time, may be, just may be,
give up, where you have nothing to loose.

Next time, belive,
in others as much as you can.

Next time, take up only,
just a handfull of wories at a time.

Next time, when you want to,
let yourself be taken care of.

Next time, be a little less
critical of their shortfalls.

Next time, if you could,
don't just want it all.

Next time, if there is ever one,
remember the first, as it was.

He held on to his elite loneliness,
He took pride in being misunderstood...
No, he wasn't looking to uncomplicate,
No, he will not let me in, she asserted...

She melts him, slowly, from the edges,
desire ablaze under his austere shell.
Yes, she wants to be burnt by him,
Yet no, she does not.. 

He is like her when he is guardless, 
He is closer when he is not cautious... 
No, he is not playing to surrender
No, he wants no more than desire...

She resists confessing, of all that she wants
Passion chokes under the unsaid thoughts.
Yes he is her fantasy.. .
Yet, he is her fear too.

He explores her endlessly in his mind,
He yearns to indulge her in his dreams and crimes...
No, he will not dissolve the distance,
No, he won’t unveil his disguise...

She longs for the sweet misery 
of when her armor would protect the gash.
Yes, she will eventually give up.. .
Yet, she will never move on.

Worth a shot

August

After about 15 sleepless days and 15 sleepless nights, I was ready to give in to the temptation of taking the easy way. The easy, comforting way, that is always there, only if I had the courage to take it, or rather the lack of courage to take it. I spend the past few days, fabricating and shattering visions of a completely different life,
Visions that were occasionally ridiculously just, unbelievable bright and 

he squimerd on his inability to help those he loved 

Riot

Her face was a riot of colors.  And I could not make up my mind if it was a riot of frolic or a riot of fury. Was it that her limp auburn red hair made her dull emerald blue eyes stand, or that the red hues tried to subdue the thrill of the ocean. Was it that her pale white skin worked as a canvas for her honey smeared pink lips, or that the colorlessness of her skin tried to steel the richness of her lips. And that pure black nose pin looked as lost among the riot as did I staring at her.

I always found my self standing here, at this exciting point where I can make up my mind either way with the same amount of conviction. That is when I always found myself craving for her touch, wondering if it will be warm red or a cold blue.

My trance was broken by her cold fingers shaking my forearm, and as I came back from my reverie I heard her finish of her sentence.. "...ever listen to me". Even before the cold sensation had died out, I was looking for a warm smile on her face but it was not there. She turned her head and started looking out of the window, and I just realized how similar she was to the day that we were living in that very moment. 

The sunlight from the clear window glass energized the colors that she represented but could not break a trace of warmth in her eyes.  A frigid and painfully windy day outside looked like a gorgeous, bright, warm and sunny day from the inside. The glass was letting all of the brilliance of the day shine through without letting the chill become apparent. And suddenly it all became  clear to me.

I braced myself for the cold and held her hand. I did not hear any glass shatter as she turned her head towards me. Her lips slightly parted as she was about to speak but stopped herself. She was mesmerizingly beautiful, the riots ran through my mind every time I faced her. But I stopped myself from being smeared by it, and asked her to tell me what she had to say. 

As she spoke, I came face to face with the riot of thoughts and emotions in  her mind, some of frolic and some  of fury. As cold air gushed in from the cracks in the glass, I felt more alive. Over the next few weeks I came face to face with the blue of her dreams and aspirations and the red of her angst and pain, the paleness of her drab life and the wincing black of her past.

As I heard her more and more, her pale skin became flushed with a tinge of red and her blue eyes sparkled with a fire of assurance. Her hair danced with the excitement with which she lived every moment and her lips smiled their way into the hearts. I had never loved her more, I thought  as I basked in the warm touch of her fingers on my forearms.

One chance too many or one chance to few

Why people cant move on.. because they give things one last chance.

Perhaps,
You had you reasons for what you did,
but surely,
you did'nt need to treat me like you did.

Perhaps,
I had my reasons for letting it go just once
but surely ,
I did'nt need to let it go on and on

Today, tomorrow and forever

Today, tomorrow and forever
because whats gone has gone forever

Today, for its a proof of the the tenaci

Night

Night, the subliminal crusader of loneliness, can be triumphed, not by a morning, a beckon of hope or a warm hug of compassion,
but by a promise of yet another night, glorious, subliminal and lonely as ever.. .

Resolves

Burn a few bridges if you have to, 

you would need the light to cross the other hundreds in your path

Fresh off the indulgence,
having succumb to the temptation yet again.
I reel in the afterglow of surreal pleasures, 
just as I burn in the remorse of being weak.


I resolve once again,
only this time hoping to keep it.
By summing the strength from deep within, 
I had yet again a perfect start.


Resolve is the strongest
and desires easily winnable, 
when the guilt still prevails,
but only time will tell, which one remains.


The race between the desires
and the determination is on.
Place your bets, 
as it wont be so very long.


One will triumph,
and it will always be the greed.
Resolve only seeks victory
in how long before it concedes.

Burn either way

If it is the blaze of glory, I choose to go up in flames.
         If it is the fire of agony, I'd rather char ever so slowly.

what if

What if you fears become your comfort
and your nightmares become your soothsayers.

What if your suspicions become your reality
and your inhibitions become your behavior.

What if your weaknesses become your aims
and your addictions become your porousness

the upbeat song on the trademill
":i love you honey" winces in pain

Slowly, as it unfolds right beneath my feet.
with my eyes closed, and heart too, I breathe.

Resting my head on solid grounds,
feeling the snugness of the rug on my back

Burning it down

Slowly, the mantel piece is burning down.
Love is up in the smokes,
still there, but airy.
The crackle of the fire is making a sweet sound.

Nothing is going away in a snap.
Its all fading and smudging into the past,
visible, feelable and yet still more.

Rain

I am going to make it rain, 

no matter how hard I have to try.

For I am the one without the pain, 

and deaf to the cry.

A little here and a little there

life is passing through. 

New lures everywhere

with or without you.

They leave behind little traces of guilt,

as the solemn resolves go up in smoke.

The earnest acceptance of weakness,

dissolves the kind words you spoke.

As thoughtful as one can be

and as sensitive as one can get.

A constant meaty grey,

but its not yet at its best.

With experience and with memories
but with no clue on how to cope.
Held them on far too long though
nothing from the past beckoned hope.

Sadness

Sadness is like that half a second blip on the movie screen, that can come at any point along the film.It is not really a part of the movie but its a clink or a scratch that results from the CD not being looked after. To enjoy a perfect movie you need to be prepared to take the time to clean and maintain the movie disk. Similarly,  you should be prepared to take the time to look after your life to avoid and clinks of sadness.

Sadness is like that few drops of drink spilled on your desk, that leave a circular blotch of the shape of the rim of your cup. Its not really something you want, but it has come from something you like. To enjoy your favorite drink, you must be prepared to rub a few blotched tables with your sleeves. Similarly, in life should be prepared to experience sadness, if you choose to build fondness with things or people.

Sadness is like that unrest-full sleep on the couch after several sleepless nights. Its not something that you do every day, or have much control over. but whenever it happens, you learn to value simple things like your bed or a good night's sleep that you otherwise took for granted. Things change, people go away. In life, be grateful of things you have and be grateful that you had them,when they are gone.

Sadness is like that last caramel candy you have been saving, that falls on the floor as you are unwrapping it. You'd be tempted to pick it up and go back to pretending as if nothing happened, but if you do that you must be prepared to have a bad taste in your mouth. Nothing fixes itself on being ignored. Don't deny your sadness but rather face it head on.

Sadness is like that appreciative word that you wait to hear eagerly but it never comes along. It should be a reason for you to try and get better so that it comes your way, but instead it becomes a reason for you to even stop trying. Whatever caused you the sadness, should not dissuade you from what ever you were doing, rather it should instigate you to see if something needs to be changed and change it.

Sadness it like that dinner that you end up burning on an already rough day. Its not the worst thing that happened to you all day but its the one that  pushed you over to loose your cool. Similarly, in life we get stuck on the triggers of our sadness rather than the real cause of it.

Me..

Frozen heart, by heat of careless world,
fluid willed, by chill of the fear,
I run, livid in this spiritless world,
Amok, in the dead calms.

Artless in inspiration,
tactless in persuasion,
scathed by applause,
and coddled by claws.

Hurt, on being loved
and cherishing the alcove.
Depressed at the apex
and spirited in every fall.

Praised for the ordinary,
ridiculed for bringing a dawn
Dull at the beginning
but ending with aplomb.

Hardened of emotions,
yet fragile of the heart,
sure of my indecision
and eager to perform.

Rooted in the sheerness
of a guileless mind
and blinded by the glaze
of a clear heart.

Consecrated with demons,
and crucified with holy souls.
Stepped upon petals,
while grooming the thorns.

Overlooking perfection
and seeking flaws
Unvalued, Uncherished.
Me.. .