Bird in my Head

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I sit in a dark room thinking about darkness
I have a glass of blood in my hands
And a bird flies quietly in my head
I do not know why
I will sit here. For hours to come. And minutes and seconds
Thinking about darkness
All the light that I lost
And I cannot look around me
There is a bear which plays the flute
And I do not understand why
There is darkness around me
And I am the light.
And soon I’ll burn myself out
As I burnt my candle turning it into the wildfires
The ghosts play the piano
And I can not dance
But I do not know why
I can hear laughter and people talking
But it must be all in my head
Yet I do not know why

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It’s like the days are not even days any more.
Night isn’t night anymore.
I am not even who I was anymore.
The sky has turned into ash, it isn’t blue anymore
The moon is a black dot, it isn’t the moon anymore
The sea has turned into soot, it isn’t it anymore
The tree upon which I gazed outside
It is not standing there anymore…perhaps it travelled north or towards a dusty gloom
I don’t know anymore
There is so much dark now, I don’t want the light anymore
I loved someone once
I don’t love anymore

Hollow

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I was haunted by the hollow of my hand
What is in it. Why
I was disfigured by the death in my eyes
Who died. Why
I was shattered by the quivering of my soul
How did it happen. Why
I was looking at the curve of my lips
Which way did they go. Why
I sat with myself once
I danced with myself once
I dreamed within myself once
Who was I supposed to be. Why

Wisp

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Sometimes I walk among the living dead
And I die a thousand lives
And when I come back to life
I talk to them and I laugh with them
And I love them and I fall in love with them
And when I turn back to see
I see all these faces
Of people that I do not know
And I don’t know their stories
Yet they have told me everything
And I heard
But I do not know them
They are strangers
And then there is myself
The strangest of them all
For they have seen me
And never loved me
And never fallen in love
And I am a wisp they all love
I am a stranger whom I do not know about

You and Me

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Left in the abyss, parched on the top

You and me, me and you

I find in you, what you find in you

I find in me, what no one does

You see in colors what i seek in colors

I seek in me what no one does

You hear in the storm, the beauty of the wrath, i

hear in the storm the wrath of the beauty

I hear in me, what no one does

You seek in you, the inner you

I seek in you, you

I seek in me, what no one does

You seek in me, so you find in me

So you hear in me, so you see in me

Naught else but You

The People of the Strange Town

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You the people, of the strange town,

who bring strange tidings!

You the people, of the unknown time.

You, the people who are not connected

You, the people of the strange town.

You, the people, in flames.

You, the people.

I do not belong.

Neither do you.

I do not surpass.

Neither do you.

I do not transcend

Neither do you.

I do not fly.

Neither do you.

I do not feel.

You…neither do you

I do not belong.

Yet you do.

I stand, while you spite

I stare while you jeer

I ponder while you remark.

I do not belong

While you, you bond.

I am me, and you…

Are neither me, nor you nor us, nor them

I breathe, while you curb.

I do not belong.

Neither do you.

We are not one.

You! The people of the strange town.

The one’s in denial.

I do not belong.

When Clouds Collide

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What a fancy thing is it. The blue sky—roaring blue sky. And clouds. Gosh so many clouds. Clouds represent people sometimes. Wandering about. Drifting about. Like vapors. Except much larger and much far off.

Clouds were solace. Are solace. When wind comes to blow away memories that one wants to hold on to. Clouds are a solace. They don’t stop it from happening. But theirĀ  being there up above in a manner which nothing else can afford–does nothing more than give one hope that memories can never be just taken away by a simple wind..because memories are kept within a person, and no matter how weak he is, he can still hold on to them. Because they are like a thread which keeps him sane.

Clouds are a comfort. In rains. Rains that you wish would never stop. They tell you that there is more to come. Rains that you want to stop. Then the clouds just silently drift away silently…far away.

Clouds. Ha. Clouds are hope in the sun. Up in the sky. they tell you that in the sun–they can hold on to themselves. An entire vapor. Which can float in the sky…and face the sun. They tell you to never let go.

Clouds are strange. They are many things. Many moods. Many feelings.

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When clouds collide! Only then there is something close to a stormy situation. There is noise. But follows it–silence.

Just like you and me. We linger. And we drift. We stand. We hold on. We try not to let go. We meet. We collide. We silently drift away. We collide again. We become one.

And on a clear sky–the blue wonderful intense sky. Upon which an eagle takes its sole flight. Hovers. There areĀ  dispersed a thousand millions vapors. Holding onto each other. In the form of a cloud, or many clouds. Moving, lingering–drifting. Breaking the silence. Making the silence.

And then they collide. They bond.

And amidst all the clouds. You were there. And i was there. And we kept drifting. Until we became one. That was a long time ago. We’ll keep drifting. Until we become one–again.

When clouds collide. There comes with it rage. And anger. And passion. And follows it–peace and finally silence.

When clouds collide. A beautiful catastrophe.