Lights And Waves

Lights And Waves
The Night Muse

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Travel Guide


Sphinx eyes and purple smile,
She sits atop the tree,
Swinging her mercury feet down at me.
“I have been to the place where souls go to be reborn,”
Boasted the wild-haired elfish figure,
“A concrete path, leading off from reality
Ending in a slippery slope
And just as the ground levels,
You see the dying floating towards it from afar
And bounce off the pit in a shower of silver light into the skies.”

She promised she’ll take me there,
But she never told me when.

Travelling through continuums,
She has visited concepts and ideas –
Celestial and bestial -
That city a few hours’ drive from waking life
Where one drinks deep from the icy lakes spouting violet lotuses
And chases bamboo bridges that dissolve in the mist.
“I have been to your god’s chambers …
He had long run away from all the noise of chants and clanging bells.”
Still, she promised she’ll take me there.

She laughed her echoing laugh
And it changed colours in the wind.
“I have swum in the deepest lake where the waters are emerald and dolphins follow you to the burning sunset.
Just beyond the lake are abandoned jungles and slithering vines
Claiming the remnants of your civilisation’s tall monuments”.
She said I could see it all if I flew over on her giant eagle.

She promised she’ll take me there,
She, in her golden skin - unfettered by human robes.
As the sun approached us, she had to go
But promised she would be back
To tell of secret caves in walking mountains.

So I wait, sitting under the tree and hugging myself.
She had promised she would come and take me there,
But she never told me when.

Friday, July 6, 2012

A Peg Too Many


Liquor soaked nights.
The great weight hurtling along
Tied to the pit of the stomach
In the sultry breeze
In the twinkling street lights.


A one way road
A four-way crossing
And no way back.


Mind slurs as it speaks out
"What if?"
Contemplating the lonely city
Through a red film.


Can't undo what's done
Too late to let go of the chips on the shoulders
Too proud to confess so


Too tired to ask if you care
Too jaded to not know the answer.


Looking for answers at the bottom of the glass,
Swirling the amber liquid around.
And seeing a caricature instead-


Of a life lived in foolish earnest
Of fairytale endings
And warped wisdoms.


A black numbness takes over,
Hello, oblivion.

Friday, June 29, 2012

Detour


I saw you
Naked
Your scars
Your festering wounds
Your whites, blacks, reds and blues
The mountains and the valleys
Your seas and your skies.

I saw you
Inside
Goo and stone
Placid lakes and stormy oceans
The open rafters, the boarded doors.

I touched you
Soft and hard
Your chords, your nerves
Your smoothness, your bumps.

I smelt
The horrors and the victories
Your sweat and your blood.

And I heard
The screams, the moans
Gasps and your groans
Through your fingers and your eyes
I heard a jarring melody.

I sneaked in
To your hollows and your brimming cups
The length and breadth
I navigated without  a map.

And I left your overpopulated town
With its forced company
And its unbecoming sanctity
Dissappeared into the dark
Of grey territories.

Just another road sign
A diversion from the highway
To the concrete consolation of the grinding gravel
From your marshland carnival.

And left behind half a mind.
The rest comes easy.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Margin Love


Back again to haunt
Me in my territory, you
Forgot your way around
My town – melting
Time and colours.

There you are, in the corner
On the margins, silent.
A dark shadow – melting
Into nothingness, as I turn
To look at your features, dissolving
Into the surroundings.

Against the wall, by the table
Dark bulb overhead, casting light
Ghostly and red – melting
Into a pool of
You, stranger.
And stranger.

A warbling rock song, some leather,
Kohl and a seedy bar, and
You sulking in the corner.

A damp dusk, some garden path
And a polite exchange of words with
A shadow already
Melting into the darkness.

Mundane radio alarm
And blue black is blinding white.

Four unread messages and one missed call.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Paradise Lost


Night falls and the shadows rise,
Suspicions crawling out of the holes of consciousness like snakes
Gnarled thoughts twisting inside the head
Squeezing sleep from red eyes,
As the clock marches merrily on.

'What ifs' and 'but thens' come out to play,
On a stage adorned with poisonous tendrils...
And ignorance and innocence long withered,
Are strewn on the floor, gaily trampled on.

Strange sounds in stranger lands...
Thoughts hitherto unconceived
In Eden’s calm.
Now come hurling through
Like a storm, a gale
Piercing the ears like Siren's wail

And in its wake leaves behind
A paradise lost.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Come Out and Play


                                                                                        
Sweet girl, hiding behind the sunshine
Won't you come out and play?

The streets are strewn with thousands of broken hearts
And the bare windows reflect bare faces
But, won't you come out and play?

Bring your doll and skip on the pavements.
Run down the lanes and laugh out loud.
So what if the puddle flows red
And the wind brings poisonous tales of deceit and hate
Come out of your corner, come out and play.

These mannequins walking past have doctored their emotions beyond what once was human.
Don't be afraid of their serpentine shadows
Little girl, come out of the eclipse.
Come out and play.

Come fill my sky with hope
Of beauty in a godless world
Of music in a town gone deaf
Of diamond dust sparkling up this life so grey and faded.

My darling girl, don't be afraid.
Come out and play.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Yours Sincerely


Your worldly banter drowns out your music
You let your glass fill up the gaps in the conversation,
As you twinkle in the smoky haze.
If all the company you need is in this lively room,
Why do you eyes seek out the spaces outside the window?

Oh, fool yourself with all the laughter and the wit-
You always wanted to fit in, yet stand out.
Contradictions you wrestle with when everyone has left.

Interior monologues, so difficult to translate –
Pick up the pen, and lay it down.
Call out to yourself, but he has long passed out.

Your glib mask is starting to stick, my friend.
You woo the world with your boyish charms,
Riding the momentary waves of youth’s beauty
While your true brilliance lies dull and rusting somewhere inside.
Your mirror was always a liar, or did you forget?

I shall hate to be the chronicler of -
A rough diamond in life, and not much different in death.