shadows cast their hold on me
darkness enwrapped me in a cosmic grip
now the stars have faded away
as the black hole in my mind;
its grip has come to stay

The light is absorbed away
photon after photon
struggling in the grips
but gravity does not slip

windows open inward
and inward i look
where light is trapped
casting an aurora

an aurora on my dreams
painting them something;
romantic,
my hope becomes frantic

Love at slumbers door

Waiting for the last queen to fall,
Waiting for that siren call;
That tells the end of battle

Waiting for the rush to ebb away,
Waiting for the calmness to take away,
The seething musth inside;
Denying me paradise

Oh fair temptress please deny me,
Please turn away my silent plea,
For heartbreak is a trifle;
To the pain of possessing thee

We are but figures in a big paradigm,
We are but diggers in a grave of time,
We are certainly not complete;
But we loath to become free

We are paupers, ourselves, on mountains of gold,
We are but beggars but we have no bowl,
We expect the impossible;
And delude ourselves..

Now as my mind takes yet another leap,
And silence calls me to the solitude of sleep,
My escape route is here;
Slumber makes things clear

But before i go let me silently weep,
For a great love lost; a beauty i won't get to keep,
But some things are bigger;
And beauty sometimes is a perilous trigger

wheels

in siver alloys

gleaming

as i sit back and

feel, the leather.

i wave as i see

someone i know

yes im ballin' yo



there the day dream ended



but i followed it through



and im still paying the loan

The messed up cases

She didnt tell me that she liked her little boys. I wasnt angry cos i didnt hav a choice. Had i had a choice; i was too horny for her voice.

she was seducing me with a tiny little gleam, deep inside her dark brown eyes but to me it passed unseen, had i had a choice; i would have saved myself, had i wondered; wondered where she was taking me

never before had the waterfall stopped falling, never in history was the cliff top so unseen. And the sea goes on from horizon to horizon; i pass by in my black ship with sails torn and ripped to shreds.

disguised; protected beneath a veneer of broken flesh. Lest the siren see me once again and tempt me to her warm cold lonely breasts

on insanity and other daily phenomena

a time has come

for a serious confession
i think i am mad
or gettin there
but what is sanity?
but the madness of many?
what is madness
but the sanity of one?
what is i.?
or is i what?
it is nought
but fish guts

the rise of the Lankans

we didnt drift away to die like they wanted us to
stupid little islanders
trading coconuts and fish they thought
they cast us aside like a used condom
they left our bones in the open like an eaten fish
they were here to take over, to use, and abuse

yet we did not fail
we stood up against their onslaught and we protected that which was their main target
our pride
we as lankans stood forth and faced a common enemy
we made them stand up and take notice
of the pride that some little speck of an island's inhabitants could have

we were glorious in our victory
watching them recede like a wave recedes from the shore
yet we are still gripped in that energy of hate
with no way to expend that energy
so we turned upon ourselves

the pain seared through his body


he couldnt watch it!

hes my father! you hear me you bastards??!!'

let me through!!



but they didnt hear

they were too far away

too caught up in the fight

with their plastic rifles

and polished whistles



He counted mercs

one, two, three, four, five

breath rattled

Wander

Writing to relax. I try to write through the annoying sound of the e mail alerts on tru tap.. Thats annoying. Im hearing faraway trance. Mixed in wit a bit of rock now. Its the opening of a dire straits song. I think its money for nothing.

the fan is twisting above my head. I can see it through the mosquito net. On my single but quite strangely authentic looking four poster bed. The linen is white. And my glasses case and book. Are on top of it.

i just wrapped two toilet paper joints. The toilet paper was crumbly and soft. The weed was tough. Wel at least its twigs were. The stuff was good. I whacked em both. But theres still some left. Although as far as joints go, the two i wrapped were small. It was too hard to make the toilet paper hold steady for a big one.

my thoughts traveled to africa. To the book i was reading. Although i feel a bit pretentious writing this down. My glass case is red. And my thoughts have now truly begun to wander.

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One day im jamestown, a land so far away. There was no regrets for anyone cos they had dropped them all one day. They got tired of feeling sad. They forgot that was a lie that, being happy was being bad.
and there they lived in jamestown till the desert sands invaded the land and swept them all away

Travels in a monologue

Travels in a monologue
i am tuneless and devoid of vigor
the world is the same
wherever u go
just different colors
and different weather patterns
they do nothing to ease the thirst
for a mental orgasm
no amount of searching will get u there
an orgasm is reached from where orgasms are
and no amount of traveling will get u there

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And there i stood caught up in a moment
one which a moment ago was the last i expected
and a moment later i wondered
why the hell did i experience it?

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Age finds remarkableness

A sitar or a violin
the instrument of sin
in the beauty it articulates
wired on the brink
of constant collapse
where wil the story
of this long drawn symphony end?

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Suicide and escape

Suicidal escape
nevermind the afterlife
now is living death
escape the torn
broken down
thing i once called home
escape the wife
that i once thought nice
and now simply turned into a
burden.
Escape the children
or take them with me
who will look after them?
For they are just kids.
The shotgun is loaded
i am at peace with it
now let me kill them first
before i myself use it

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Grass is greener on the other side

Sitting and crouching like a fly on a wall a genetic absolution where the opposites hav contracted to form a large tongue.
It is the answer to all life as it flicks in and out. A belief of sorts things will be all right but there is just one problem. All that floats within killing range are more flies.
Our subject is confronted by a perfectly perplexing conundrum. To eat and cannibalize or to stay honorable and mostly not reap the potentially satisfied feel of sitting in one place for a feed.

and there lies the proof that the grass is not always green for the fly wished to be a toad and its large tongue flashing bringing it more food while it just sits but how can a fly eat another fly if it doesnt wish to cannibalize? And if also moths are hard to come by and they are anyway too big?
But the fly doesnt totally want to be a toad of sorts for he knows that toads dont fly. And dont look as nice as flies.

and there the thought will arise. Is the grass really that much greener on the other side?

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Of satisfaction and other mundane matters of life

Once a pauper i was made a prince when a light shone down on my face. That light shone once yet it blinked off but i stil remember the tingle of it on my skin. The memory that brings it back to me almost does justice to its affect. As i turn contemplative with the cycle of the moon i once again knew that my madness was blooming anew. But that doesnt matter. Im on to a silver platter for thats all v recieve unto us by Him. Only matter is to look only at our platter. The trouble only starts when u start comparing

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Loss t

The deadly rain fell down on that fateful day and buried my love within me. It washed it away never to resurface into the valley beneath me. And now iv got but a slight memory of the flame that once shone. For now the deep dark mysterious love that i bore for u is gone

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The Eternal One

grouch will be forgiven by the great Lord of the skies. Allah will guide you into the reaches of light. there will be night but the night will not harm. there will be a blight but the blight will be of a light form of a swarming deserts sandstorm, whilst you will be safe inside, an oasis of light.

Peace, let the beast inside subside, let the enegrgy flows positivize the dream will have to be realized, oh please let it be realized. Allah please, let it be realized.

The prayers are in the night, and in the day and the evening at times. A constant wish not to be left behind, a constant wish not only to survive but to soar, to adore and be adored a selfish dream? a harmful dream? a dream nevertheless and here humble on my knees and feet i have been, humbled before your might. indeed you are right. you always have been right, and always will be.

The Eternal One.

Things my mind said

Alive on a bridge
where reality is unseen
and the dense fog hides within
the elements of an unrealized dream

murky. Clear. Murky. Musk
an odor so thick
invoking a strange lust
not remotely sexual,
but nevertheless
it is just.

the solitude
erks my soul
it sides my benefit
and my heart is a sheep
trained to follow
the mellow
advice of my head.

rage, uncertainty, doubt
eats sometimes but then
i remember the solitude
that helps
and the murky mist
that hides even murkier waters beneath
i know
will clear up with time
beneath my gaze

sometimes steely
sometimes angry
sometimes desperate
but mostly i know
it should be patient
a gaze of a whale
above an abyss
of the deepest trench.

and there im drenched
in latent emotion
drawing in breath
steeled against the onrush
once again a sheep
following the rational
things my mind said

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A Flash of a fantasy

And then i dream
and i see
oh i see
bathed in that golden light
the lady
come to chase away the blight.

but is it true?
Is it a possibility
that a fantasy could be so real
that things imagined and thought to be
so surreal
could ever come true?

and yet i seem
to be unable to break away
from that dream
of perfection
of a utopic personification
my own personal angel

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The riddle

When the afternoon sun doth shine. Strange thoughts, they course through my mind. Thoughts of her, thoughts of love, thoughts of happiness unbind. Thoughts that free me from the burdens that have beset me. All these years down the line. Thoughts of love they shine. Only to be frozen under the gaze, of experience's hateful sight. Telling me it's not right, the logic tells u it does not exist. The path that burns so bright, is a path that will lead u to an eternal plight. A plight of never knowing what u search for, a plight of distant might, ever felt but never grasped. The hopeful may still divide. Into believers and nought. But the gaze of the beast of experience. Solemnly tells u otherwise. But the young buck that is hope, quails at his sight. And shows him the finger of defiance, and thinks the world should let life decide, what is not, and what is right. To the future we ride.

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