All my life I have been told what not to do, and I believe that when we all look back we can say the same for ourselves. A room is just as cluttered as we would want it to be but only as tidy as the person who points it out to be. If we were to live ourselves would we have lived any different?! Does that really express us? I mean the earliest I can remember of who I am would be 5 years old... so does that mean I continue to live being that 5 year old?
Walls come contracting onto a lowly figure lying in the middle of a room. Not too big, just a little room. Something that she built for herself (now some would say she did that in her mind) and she's happy about it, its her's and she loves it. In this room she feels safest.
Grown to believe in angels she knows she's protected, drawn from the very innards of her convictions of the stories of old. Why the hell would they tell stories if they knew they were not true??? Why do children grow hoping of a happy ending?
The wind blows loudly causing the trees to crane their necks to hear what the little pods were saying. The moon had a hid a long time back maybe to shut itself from the winds that were churning the waves... but to little Lucy the moon hid today... no one was there to talk to her, protect her... she is alone.
A few days back or more she walked a road that would have been the usual road... to pick up berries, fetch milk and pick a few roses to dorn her sashed face. pretty as can be Little Lucy and her pretty blue eyes with her red sash hopped, skipped and faced the world... the road moist, warm, laden with mushrooms, flowers and birds... promises of opportunity beyond imagination... dreams were built in the world that she would go to. Lets go back...
Little Lucy sat on a garden chair licking a lolly her father had bought her... "dear, this is my gift for you, once i get to the other side the gifts are unbound... they'd flow beyond the horizons... but for now a lolly pop from the dentist is all I have for you"... Little Lucy desired nuthing from her actor father... who had punched his way through the hearts of all the townfolk... but he always spoke of dreams beyond the horizon where the people loved to see the talent and appreciated the arts... Lucy and her blue eyes will make it BIG there... for now its the lolly flavoured pink.
Little Lucy 5 years and running, would have to make her walk everyday to fetch milk and pick some berries. Not today
She sat in the garden and along came a stranger... with a smile to kill for and the heart that throbbed outside of his body, BIG, Beautiful... his hair long, wavy and shiny. He moved with long strides, turned suddenly and poked his long nose to Lucy and smiled a million dollars. - "And who do we have heere... beauty thine eyes, soft as an angel thy face... i promise you love, life, success and everything to go with it... blow." Lucy lets of a little whiff where he had stretched out his hand just below his chin... "Take mine all little one, thy voice is meant to sing. Go east towards the sun, and earn thyself some bling." he takes out a diamond and puts it to her palm. Twas the most beautiful thing she had set her eyes on.
"What do i do for more like this?"
"Love my pretty lady, love thyself... for pure is thy heart and love is thy world... walk on till you reach the sea. stop by at the tavern of the swinging goat and ask for the future of a toadstool... the tavern master will give you a room to stay where u will till a passerby borne to the otherside will call on you. take this bling and show em to the passerby and he will take u with him."
"Where do i go?"
"Pretty one, with eyes of the bluest skies, you go to where the glass shines a thousand splendours, teeth are covered with more like this that you hold at thy right. the applause for thy talent will ring for a thousand yeeres... that your sisters' children and their children will sing them children a lullaby in thy name."
And he smiled and she knew at once it was true. How do I thank you stranger she asked with her eyes bluest for she knew at once he spoke of the lands beyond that her father was building for her.
"Give me thy licky-lick stick and take from me my act and bling"
And thus with her father's gift for her, the stranger without a name walks, dancing to an unheard tune... fleet footed fiddler feet... fiesty figure folding into the far... and gone.
Her father will be happy if she made it on her own... no one in the town dared it before. Her father did though now works with a travelling show... she could make it big and rub shoulders with Kurt Cobain and Maynard. She packs quick and light and makes her way through the forest. Turns around once... and gone... down the path where she'd go to pick them berries.
A few years on and she can feel the walls them closing... but thats a world that she'd been a building. Where is the love? where is the bling... she seems to be losing em. She lifts her eyes and picks her liner... smudge the eyes, hide the depths of the blue... with black... BLACK.
Thursday, December 08, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
tHe sHow mUst gO oN
Today is the 20th of Oct and every year the same time i keep reminding myself that life and time have stopped and the natural course of aging really applies to the rest of the world and not me. Well seems great to know of something like that but really NOT TRUE. so today i enter my 3 decade of life and though i would have thought that the heavens would break open, the sound of thunder would roll down the horizon and a maiden in pure white silks would hand me my award as the 3rd decade. Well to start of with... i woke up wondering which side of the bed do i get off. I see my lovely lady next to me and was happy to note that I wasn't dreaming and that I might actually be awake. I turn on my cell phone... as has been that I always turn off my cell phone at night on the 19th and turn it on only in the morning... and i see messages from dear ones. Well thank you everyone i am still alive and raring for the day... i see myself in the mirror and then i notice how much my hair has grayed over the years. Maybe i am growing older and soon much sooner than we all know it will be all over, the inevitable.
That should sadden but really... No. I suddenly feel a fervor for life... so we all end up dead. and what will keep us alive is what we do. Not for ourselves and selfishly but what we do for others. I really never got the meaning of Karma, Nam myoho renge kyo, responsibility or accountability... why so much to explain something that we are all so truly born with but so truly forget. I really don't know whats true now but what the heck... create for you a reality... :P
Its like all these years we had been wearing our eyes over our eyelids. not seeing but definitely looking. We got our ears trained but not listening. The whole world has already been created for us.. or thats what we would believe when we are looking and hearing... but just a fetch of the moondust that we have so protected ourselves from... and a sprinkle of that in your eyes things become clear... that there really isn't anything but what has been created... uncreate yourself... die and be born again if you really want to see the wonders that is in store... right now as long as you have an identity and you believe... you have no chance of seeing what i see... and yet what i see is just a fraction of whats really in store...
peace to all... my life just got better.
That should sadden but really... No. I suddenly feel a fervor for life... so we all end up dead. and what will keep us alive is what we do. Not for ourselves and selfishly but what we do for others. I really never got the meaning of Karma, Nam myoho renge kyo, responsibility or accountability... why so much to explain something that we are all so truly born with but so truly forget. I really don't know whats true now but what the heck... create for you a reality... :P
Its like all these years we had been wearing our eyes over our eyelids. not seeing but definitely looking. We got our ears trained but not listening. The whole world has already been created for us.. or thats what we would believe when we are looking and hearing... but just a fetch of the moondust that we have so protected ourselves from... and a sprinkle of that in your eyes things become clear... that there really isn't anything but what has been created... uncreate yourself... die and be born again if you really want to see the wonders that is in store... right now as long as you have an identity and you believe... you have no chance of seeing what i see... and yet what i see is just a fraction of whats really in store...
peace to all... my life just got better.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
ConfuSing wHat is reAl
Lets try something else, something new.
Asking questions easier to speak
Answering questions hard to chew
Life wasn't brought out of Everest's peak.
A measured life carefully trod.
Not once can I figure the end
When all that exists was a fraud,
Within me to live hardened.
Shouldn't I just have been a soldier
Not an army general?
Get your orders and fight for Lear
A confused king who lost it all.
Broken thoughts dreams worlds pulled apart straining
under the forces of the outside
Fallen to floor is a soldier, not bleeding, not hurt, not having fought a war.
But lost, dead, dying, struggling, living.
Death would have its beauty, serene, pleasant, romantic
in the battlefield warm, wet and smoky.
A photograph to be remembered in the arms of a loved one
Held close to chest. But not for this soldier, worn torn and born.
I am no atheist but He surely has a sense of humour which i really don't find funny.
Born under his care a child opens its eyes looks about
and sees the world a haze and fairies.
But not too long shall it last, blast, smack on the face.
Ungendered the child grows to realise that "he" is different from the shadow next to "him"
While the shadow grows to see that "she" is so different from the new inclusion to the room.
Grew the child became a loyal soldier - YOU GOT TO FOLLOW ORDERS OR SOMEONE DIES
Lives the life with small victories and a battle won, with scars to prove a glorious fight.
Until he meets an angel, a shadow, different, battle scarred of a different kind.
No more battles to fight, the soldier is back home building a new life.
Tries to be understood, reliving the days of childhood. Broken Lives Pulled Apart.
Asking questions easier to speak
Answering questions hard to chew
Life wasn't brought out of Everest's peak.
A measured life carefully trod.
Not once can I figure the end
When all that exists was a fraud,
Within me to live hardened.
Shouldn't I just have been a soldier
Not an army general?
Get your orders and fight for Lear
A confused king who lost it all.
Broken thoughts dreams worlds pulled apart straining
under the forces of the outside
Fallen to floor is a soldier, not bleeding, not hurt, not having fought a war.
But lost, dead, dying, struggling, living.
Death would have its beauty, serene, pleasant, romantic
in the battlefield warm, wet and smoky.
A photograph to be remembered in the arms of a loved one
Held close to chest. But not for this soldier, worn torn and born.
I am no atheist but He surely has a sense of humour which i really don't find funny.
Born under his care a child opens its eyes looks about
and sees the world a haze and fairies.
But not too long shall it last, blast, smack on the face.
Ungendered the child grows to realise that "he" is different from the shadow next to "him"
While the shadow grows to see that "she" is so different from the new inclusion to the room.
Grew the child became a loyal soldier - YOU GOT TO FOLLOW ORDERS OR SOMEONE DIES
Lives the life with small victories and a battle won, with scars to prove a glorious fight.
Until he meets an angel, a shadow, different, battle scarred of a different kind.
No more battles to fight, the soldier is back home building a new life.
Tries to be understood, reliving the days of childhood. Broken Lives Pulled Apart.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
RhymE withOUt ReasOn is Why the ChIldren cRy
When Alexander asked a group of Jain philosophers why they were neglecting ti pay any attention to the great conqueror (Alexander was clearly disappointed by these Indian philosophers' lack of interest in him), he received the following forceful reply:
"King Alexander, every man can possess only so much of the earth's surface as this we are standing on. You are but human like the rest of us, save that you are always busy and up to no good, travelling so many miles away from your home, a nuisance to yourself and to others! ... you will soon be dead, and then you will own just as much of the earth as will suffice to bury you"
Excerpts from Amartya Sen's Identity and Violence.
It was so amazing to read this. our lives are but given to the way we want to live it. It is but a borrowed existence. In the end of the day when we are dead then nothing else will matter. All that we are are specs of anti matter and energy that not even the naked eye can see. All that we feel, we know, we experience, then may be of no use... cos in the end nothing else matters... but maybe that again is not true. Because in the end what we leave behind are feelings, knowledge and experiences etched in the lives and minds of others, and that is immortality and that is your rebirth into a new realm. a parallel universe from where you cannot imagine the infinity. Everything you feel or make people feel - the nine rasas, will create the future you will live into. the knowledge you impart will give into the world the feelings of a completely different level, which will lead to experiences that are beyond what you can imagine. And ultimately you live in the experiences of others. Even when you are alive, the experience that you give to others will grow you. sometimes in your lifetime and sometimes after. Be pure. Love something claim it, don't demand it. If it isn't then leave it... Love exists in the letting go and not in the bonding. It is the experience of separation that provides for the strength of the bonding. Love for that is the only thing that is true. Truth for that is what will set you free. Freedom is from within, a state of mind. Peace comes from the unity of you and the world and till then the love, truth and freedom will live only as long as you live. They would be but the outward expression of yourself. Love would become possession, demanding and the ills of binding... sex will be otherwise called love making. (they are separate. Sex is sex, love is love. The act is sex. the embrace and cuddle after is love and that is important). Truth would be fought for, debated and proved. truth needs no proof it is in itself whole and complete, words express them but do not make it real. Freedom or lack of it will hurt because it exists outwardly, but from within it creates a peaceful mind to deal with it from inside. Gives you the power to stand against troops, arms and scribes.
Love yourself, for the only real truth is that everything about you within and outward is caused by you.You have the key to everything, including the pain and suffering of another. Be true to yourself for lying to another is lying to yourself. Free yourself for everyone outside that loves you will only want your freedom. Know that you must love yourself and treat yourself with all the happiness because in that the world will love you and be your happiness.
"King Alexander, every man can possess only so much of the earth's surface as this we are standing on. You are but human like the rest of us, save that you are always busy and up to no good, travelling so many miles away from your home, a nuisance to yourself and to others! ... you will soon be dead, and then you will own just as much of the earth as will suffice to bury you"
Excerpts from Amartya Sen's Identity and Violence.
It was so amazing to read this. our lives are but given to the way we want to live it. It is but a borrowed existence. In the end of the day when we are dead then nothing else will matter. All that we are are specs of anti matter and energy that not even the naked eye can see. All that we feel, we know, we experience, then may be of no use... cos in the end nothing else matters... but maybe that again is not true. Because in the end what we leave behind are feelings, knowledge and experiences etched in the lives and minds of others, and that is immortality and that is your rebirth into a new realm. a parallel universe from where you cannot imagine the infinity. Everything you feel or make people feel - the nine rasas, will create the future you will live into. the knowledge you impart will give into the world the feelings of a completely different level, which will lead to experiences that are beyond what you can imagine. And ultimately you live in the experiences of others. Even when you are alive, the experience that you give to others will grow you. sometimes in your lifetime and sometimes after. Be pure. Love something claim it, don't demand it. If it isn't then leave it... Love exists in the letting go and not in the bonding. It is the experience of separation that provides for the strength of the bonding. Love for that is the only thing that is true. Truth for that is what will set you free. Freedom is from within, a state of mind. Peace comes from the unity of you and the world and till then the love, truth and freedom will live only as long as you live. They would be but the outward expression of yourself. Love would become possession, demanding and the ills of binding... sex will be otherwise called love making. (they are separate. Sex is sex, love is love. The act is sex. the embrace and cuddle after is love and that is important). Truth would be fought for, debated and proved. truth needs no proof it is in itself whole and complete, words express them but do not make it real. Freedom or lack of it will hurt because it exists outwardly, but from within it creates a peaceful mind to deal with it from inside. Gives you the power to stand against troops, arms and scribes.
Love yourself, for the only real truth is that everything about you within and outward is caused by you.You have the key to everything, including the pain and suffering of another. Be true to yourself for lying to another is lying to yourself. Free yourself for everyone outside that loves you will only want your freedom. Know that you must love yourself and treat yourself with all the happiness because in that the world will love you and be your happiness.
Monday, May 09, 2011
yEstErdAy
the waits been long, 7 lengths give or take a few. The ride here had been eventful and now but just a memory a fleeting thought but woven with experiences that would make up for good night's sleep for the little ones. The stay has been lively memories that can be chatted over a fire with a good drink and close friends. The party's been long and wild and it seems like just yesterday i arrived as i go back to my bike for another stretch, another destination, another adventure. THIS IS TO ALL THOSE THAT MADE MY STAY HERE COUNT.
Now they say brothers are born out of blood bonds, they surely hadn't met a young group of boys that bore their brotherhood not only of blood but also booze. Now one was a buddy who nearly cost us our lives on a seemingly harmless stretch of road. Who once again nearly cost his ego with a doctor whom he never should have lied to, but anyway the stench proved the debauchery of a lost finger nail and ruined bike. And then there was the one that traveled as well into a dreamland that concocted reality where we would meet, only to know that we both needed each other's help just to fill up a form that we totally didn't believe in. Come on how can they ask for our favourite director when we didn't know the director who directed the films we liked!! yes, we were stepping into the same world together, over a kilo of tandoori chicken, parathas and a sleepless night with antacids. And then there was the other rider who came down from a different parallel hemisphere that can only be defined as "TOH...(small pause)...CHALEIN SARDAR." And the biggest of us all...the one with a heart that could encompass all our tears cannot be defined... we lovingly called him SID(from Ice Age). Now i wouldn't go to explain was it the way he walked or moved about, or was it the way he looked and spoke... ummmmm.....naaaaaahhhhhh lets not get into that.
Yes we built our home with late night business transactions over mayfair and park street, over films that SID invariably missed the 1st 5 minutes over chaat. Going to sleep over a silent Tele that played for the Sardar that invariably would wake SID to stand in attention. over matrix special effects of the same stench that doctors would shake their heads and say "musn't be lyin t' yer doctor and lawyer now." Over stomach upsets and sneezing bouts with the one and only Sudarshan churna. Even though Sudarshan would himself refuse us his elixir. Yes we were a band that believed that it could all be done. My time in Bombay couldn't have been without this lot of ruffians.
Just yesterday i also met a man of so much stature it scared me to hell but was so grounded as an individual that always one would wonder what makes the person. We met over a coffee from a vending machine and spoke about dreams, philosophy and a parallel world that might have existed. With his peppered mop of hair to his boyish smile and charm one would really think whats more confused, him or u figuring him. i think it was the latter. A person it might take years to figure out.
Yesterday wasn't very far away and today is just another day and yet we look to yesterday for answers for tomorrow. Which none of us are sure about. Have I really left all this yesterday knowing very well that it will all be there today and tomorrow. Do days really control us and how we are going to go about life. Time is but just another dimension i believe which is progressive and though we would wonder if we could move back time! Yet i believe the answer does not lie in the physicality of moving time but in the memories that make it real. My friends made yesterday for me real and not time.
Now they say brothers are born out of blood bonds, they surely hadn't met a young group of boys that bore their brotherhood not only of blood but also booze. Now one was a buddy who nearly cost us our lives on a seemingly harmless stretch of road. Who once again nearly cost his ego with a doctor whom he never should have lied to, but anyway the stench proved the debauchery of a lost finger nail and ruined bike. And then there was the one that traveled as well into a dreamland that concocted reality where we would meet, only to know that we both needed each other's help just to fill up a form that we totally didn't believe in. Come on how can they ask for our favourite director when we didn't know the director who directed the films we liked!! yes, we were stepping into the same world together, over a kilo of tandoori chicken, parathas and a sleepless night with antacids. And then there was the other rider who came down from a different parallel hemisphere that can only be defined as "TOH...(small pause)...CHALEIN SARDAR." And the biggest of us all...the one with a heart that could encompass all our tears cannot be defined... we lovingly called him SID(from Ice Age). Now i wouldn't go to explain was it the way he walked or moved about, or was it the way he looked and spoke... ummmmm.....naaaaaahhhhhh lets not get into that.
Yes we built our home with late night business transactions over mayfair and park street, over films that SID invariably missed the 1st 5 minutes over chaat. Going to sleep over a silent Tele that played for the Sardar that invariably would wake SID to stand in attention. over matrix special effects of the same stench that doctors would shake their heads and say "musn't be lyin t' yer doctor and lawyer now." Over stomach upsets and sneezing bouts with the one and only Sudarshan churna. Even though Sudarshan would himself refuse us his elixir. Yes we were a band that believed that it could all be done. My time in Bombay couldn't have been without this lot of ruffians.
Just yesterday i also met a man of so much stature it scared me to hell but was so grounded as an individual that always one would wonder what makes the person. We met over a coffee from a vending machine and spoke about dreams, philosophy and a parallel world that might have existed. With his peppered mop of hair to his boyish smile and charm one would really think whats more confused, him or u figuring him. i think it was the latter. A person it might take years to figure out.
Yesterday wasn't very far away and today is just another day and yet we look to yesterday for answers for tomorrow. Which none of us are sure about. Have I really left all this yesterday knowing very well that it will all be there today and tomorrow. Do days really control us and how we are going to go about life. Time is but just another dimension i believe which is progressive and though we would wonder if we could move back time! Yet i believe the answer does not lie in the physicality of moving time but in the memories that make it real. My friends made yesterday for me real and not time.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
wiLL u B ThErE
Illusions, a dream
Not everyday does one wake up knowing everything it is going to accomplish on that given day. Neither does it know what the next hour will bring, and yet it works towards a future that it has created, that molds the very day that is beginning. What really explains us? our life our beating hearts our pains our happiness our sweat and blood our families??? the only truth that might explain us is that we are but an illusion, everything about us is nothing but energy... how does one explain our matter?? Don't even try it because you can't and if you just did, even try to contradict... i am jealous of you... cos ignorance is bliss.
Yesterday not far from the shallows, where the storks would come to get their easy catch and so did the jackals also when done would quench their thirst, walking aimlessly i stumbled upon a little pebble yelling out to me. Interestingly unlike other pebbles he seemed to have moved far from the babbling brooks that filled the shallows now feeding a million crocodiles and piranhas... all hungry for blood. I picked him up and he immediately breathed hard, maybe the air outside didn't suit him i for that matter have gotten very accustomed to the pollutedness that has become of this world.
Where have you come from little one? Your face, the eyes, yes the eyes, your lips, the smoothness of your skin... you are pure... clean sattvik... Where have you come from??
I put him back in the water for only the liquid of pure life could resonate the words of the rock.
From out in the mountains where the waters are pure, the rocks are smooth, the air is clean and people celebrate their homes... the forests, the land and their daily food... from the inners of the brooks that line a people who have long protected me and my friends that drink from the brooks who would once stop by and talk to me... the little elephants with the long noses and yet settled down in humbleness... the jackals with their yelps signalling their little ones to quench thirst... the eagles that would sit by the brook longing for their long flight... the crows talking endlessly, they are indeed the smart ones... the pigeons (lets not talk about the pigeons, they talk gibberish)... I come from the brooks that now line that land where the people today hunger for a voice... to be heard in a day that screams of mechanical cranes.
Little one no place like that exists anymore. We have moved along, isn't the world a whole lot better? I can call for my toxins and they'd be here in 30min or free.
The Little one lay silent. The lips were sealed, the eyes, yes the eyes, were shut... the smooth skin ever so tempting and arousing slowly dried up and roughened up. In my hands was the death of a messenger who would serve his purpose even after he is gone on the backs of rich naked women and men hoping to smoothen out their undesired bodies of their filth only so that they could nail for them a find to quench a thirst that never dies even when the thrusting is replaced with tongues, fingers and devices...
Does a place like that exist, I begin to wonder. I have some recollection of such a place and stories of the distant lands filled my early childhood. I turn around look at the rust bucket which once was a shinning piece of mechanical brilliance from the meads that built other brilliant stallions. Was it time i took him out again, look for this land. I turn to look at the pebble, it had vanished into the tears of the pure virgin which now makes the shallows (ref Winds of Change). Walking to my loyal steed, seeing the rust that covers it, its been ages the rider went out. Discover new worlds, heal unspoken wounds, build new worlds... suddenly the roads ahead begin to clear up beckoning the rider.
But i have already built for myself a life here. To ride again means i got to start all over again!!! Oh Great One of infinite Love and Energy guide to what i must do now. Talk to me for this is when i need you most.
Silence...
But in the silence in get my answer. its time to move on. I am the rider and I ride to new lands and discover. A rider can never fit in an office or a profession. Take my heart along, she'll understand... But i really meant to ask is Will You Be There when i find paradise and want to share it...Will You Be There and Will You understand.
The Rider rides... shakes of the rust from the bike.
Not everyday does one wake up knowing everything it is going to accomplish on that given day. Neither does it know what the next hour will bring, and yet it works towards a future that it has created, that molds the very day that is beginning. What really explains us? our life our beating hearts our pains our happiness our sweat and blood our families??? the only truth that might explain us is that we are but an illusion, everything about us is nothing but energy... how does one explain our matter?? Don't even try it because you can't and if you just did, even try to contradict... i am jealous of you... cos ignorance is bliss.
Yesterday not far from the shallows, where the storks would come to get their easy catch and so did the jackals also when done would quench their thirst, walking aimlessly i stumbled upon a little pebble yelling out to me. Interestingly unlike other pebbles he seemed to have moved far from the babbling brooks that filled the shallows now feeding a million crocodiles and piranhas... all hungry for blood. I picked him up and he immediately breathed hard, maybe the air outside didn't suit him i for that matter have gotten very accustomed to the pollutedness that has become of this world.
Where have you come from little one? Your face, the eyes, yes the eyes, your lips, the smoothness of your skin... you are pure... clean sattvik... Where have you come from??
I put him back in the water for only the liquid of pure life could resonate the words of the rock.
From out in the mountains where the waters are pure, the rocks are smooth, the air is clean and people celebrate their homes... the forests, the land and their daily food... from the inners of the brooks that line a people who have long protected me and my friends that drink from the brooks who would once stop by and talk to me... the little elephants with the long noses and yet settled down in humbleness... the jackals with their yelps signalling their little ones to quench thirst... the eagles that would sit by the brook longing for their long flight... the crows talking endlessly, they are indeed the smart ones... the pigeons (lets not talk about the pigeons, they talk gibberish)... I come from the brooks that now line that land where the people today hunger for a voice... to be heard in a day that screams of mechanical cranes.
Little one no place like that exists anymore. We have moved along, isn't the world a whole lot better? I can call for my toxins and they'd be here in 30min or free.
The Little one lay silent. The lips were sealed, the eyes, yes the eyes, were shut... the smooth skin ever so tempting and arousing slowly dried up and roughened up. In my hands was the death of a messenger who would serve his purpose even after he is gone on the backs of rich naked women and men hoping to smoothen out their undesired bodies of their filth only so that they could nail for them a find to quench a thirst that never dies even when the thrusting is replaced with tongues, fingers and devices...
Does a place like that exist, I begin to wonder. I have some recollection of such a place and stories of the distant lands filled my early childhood. I turn around look at the rust bucket which once was a shinning piece of mechanical brilliance from the meads that built other brilliant stallions. Was it time i took him out again, look for this land. I turn to look at the pebble, it had vanished into the tears of the pure virgin which now makes the shallows (ref Winds of Change). Walking to my loyal steed, seeing the rust that covers it, its been ages the rider went out. Discover new worlds, heal unspoken wounds, build new worlds... suddenly the roads ahead begin to clear up beckoning the rider.
But i have already built for myself a life here. To ride again means i got to start all over again!!! Oh Great One of infinite Love and Energy guide to what i must do now. Talk to me for this is when i need you most.
Silence...
But in the silence in get my answer. its time to move on. I am the rider and I ride to new lands and discover. A rider can never fit in an office or a profession. Take my heart along, she'll understand... But i really meant to ask is Will You Be There when i find paradise and want to share it...Will You Be There and Will You understand.
The Rider rides... shakes of the rust from the bike.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
hUmAn NatUrE
"Get me out into the night-time
Four walls won't hold me tonight
If this town is just an apple
Then let me take a bite.
If they say, why, why? Tell 'em that is human nature"
Am sitting silent, watching the pages of written prose lying in front of me and wondering where do i go from here?
For long have been wondering about that, i am no longer that young to try out my hand at something new neither am i too old to be stunk on to something that i have been doing for ages. Just recently got turned down from a job offer because i had more experience with me and that i could not be afforded??!!
But today its not about me...
It was never about me...
Human Nature?
Four walls won't hold me tonight
If this town is just an apple
Then let me take a bite.
If they say, why, why? Tell 'em that is human nature"
Am sitting silent, watching the pages of written prose lying in front of me and wondering where do i go from here?
For long have been wondering about that, i am no longer that young to try out my hand at something new neither am i too old to be stunk on to something that i have been doing for ages. Just recently got turned down from a job offer because i had more experience with me and that i could not be afforded??!!
But today its not about me...
It was never about me...
Human Nature?
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