Indian Wood and the Fall

That fresh stench of washed wood, puts the cart of senses in motion
My skin is all heavy, my eyes burn bright with a watery sensation
Lunging out of the pale sky is the air, pushing me to gravity's direction
I take a slow fall, gliding through the thin air, no hands to hold me

That sound of jaw thudding to the floor,her wail fades away
The wind carries her vowels, she vows to devour their pathway
I float in layers of mud, scarlet liquid colors my lifeless hair
Face so soft like a whisper, drama ends, curtains closed in pair

That thumping agitation fueling the chest, her tears just don't rest
They carry me like a splinter in a river, flowing in an incomplete nest
I'm in the forbidden forest, eerie silence dosed with twangy howls
Fields of blue leaves and flowers, they grow on my seeping pool

That feeling of unabashed fright, mind's made up for the blackness
Running from the inevitable truth, yields no circle of clarity
It's time to tend to your sins, face the times of invoked travesty
I face my time with open arms, welcome old friend, drink my fear

That tall pine tree molding my vision, I feel utterly negligible
The sun refuses to come out of its infancy, mist paints her scribble
I can feel her plight of losing me but my fog paves a path of traps
Out of sight lay a plethora of mirage diamonds, a field with no gaps

That arrogance of underlying atmosphere, keeps the sanity caged
Inside a plastic box, it struggles like the cornered tiger, pounce or fail
Words not repeated, they barely come out, life sapping spirit
Eyes stuck out of focus, frozen and defeated, takes the bullet.

The Bus Of Life

The pace of the walk so fast in this unpredictable lane
Sweat beads form a wet necklace on cloth so plain
Holding hands together not an option when the feel is missing
Drunken gaze on the seductive gait ahead, unrequited blessing

Indian summer bestowing it's love upon us like a cruel father
Journey commences moving inside a metal box with peep holes battered
Billboards talk mutely to the audience underplaying their role
All they can manage is a vague smile at the futile pathway up ahead

Roads and alleys keep on moving towards the black hole in fold
Destination attracts the curious man with her siren like wails
Incomplete houses hiding inside a elaborate scheme of false tales
Love streets pass by with Jim's voice crooning to haunt the dark

An absent mind regrets the mistakes pinching like rocky splinters
Defense soldiers take over, for the night is young for recreation
This moment the whole world is an empty barn for me to play in
I glide in my thoughts and slide on the rides to the way home,so far

As Mount Doom gets closer, the ring in my chest expands with mirth
Familiar faces crop in front of my vision, not all of them breed joy in my world
Been led down this road enough to know the potholes and shivering lights
Every time we see each other in the eye, signal a warning we both ignore

Street signs helping the aimless to seek refuge in their knowledge
They say you do not need us child, you have to craft your own road and bridge
The metal box lets out a dying wail, it has no tracks to move forward to
I start the walk alone, the poles accompany me, we dive together into the roads unknown, 

all but one which leads us home.

Brain Ooze I

Death be the cause to free me from the excruciating task of over thinking. Some days the sun doesn't rise as my eyes just are too clouded with apprehensions. Go home and tell your girl about my drunken adventures, make her want me and see me laugh at you getting limp. Don't put your hand inside the beehive as it will spoil the delicate in you, let me be the bad guy here and lend you my shoulder. Why should a nice guy be all white, gray is the new black and it suits me. I'm a difficult friend to hold on to.

These squares I walk in are getting smaller, in this perimeter I found myself getting older, the doors and walls of the room keep shrinking, a half hearted clapsed hand I have to leave coz it belongs to someone else. Though we may laugh and cry together but we are never together. Crooked teeth have their own perfection in smiles that breach the soul. Words come out of our mouth and they mean something different altogether, might be a poem or story which resembles our life. All the good ones are taken, that is the rule of god. A misconstrued one though as nothing is permanent and everything is permitted in this world built on centuries of sins and goods. A battle rages between the doers and those who blabber, never to come near the exhiliration of taking part all the mouths would never beat the master hand performing.

And as my chains begin to loosen up,the ambers so golden floating besides my eyes take control,they wake up the raging monster hidden deep inside the cave, he notices everything and builds up the anger inside, all the small things which the conscious mind does not seem to register are all present and rotting the monster's mind. In a deep rut this one, after you give yourself to the liquid in your brain, that is the moment the mojo rises and that mojo can make or break your relations.

Brain Ooze II

The one's I can never have, stay dormant and become my deepest mind sins waiting to be erupted, my soul is too shredded to be shared. The words I hear float in front of my blurred pupils and they catch fire slowly to fade into dusty emptiness. The last words we spoke yesterday map my dreams to a foreign land where none can enter but our entwined minds. Orange hue painted upon the sky divulging it's own need for a shoulder, mocking us are the silver clouds with no gold lining hanging on winds so colder. Time is transfixed like a bottle of wine, the sand slips through my palms and turns the clock ahead to give birth to droplets. These drops cover us in the bubble of purple haze, tongue tied and twisted but together.

These bells and crosses, the white caps and threads don't mean anything to me. All I can see is desperation for recognition in the eyes of the man in sky. Away from the facade of society which masks the primal in us I live in the middle earth of my own. We love, lust, lie, care, talk and sing for our soul and no barrier is too strong for us once we are free. Obedience to one's conscience a rare found plant in this vast array of sand land. We found the lightness of our actions when we cut the weighty roap of feel involved. Acceptance of the uninvited truth and forged lies hold me stuck in a giant sticky puddle of mud. Inability to act as per our desires against the raging morality is the chains we all cling to till death.