Suicide Blues

Chant the anthems,

The anthems of your death.

Stare blankly at the walls.

Ponder.

A thousand thoughts,

Flow like a river to the sea,

Through your head,

All in but a second.

'Do it'

'No, I mustn't.'

'Do it'

'Stop'.

Suffocate.

Lose control.

Feel the still walls,

Closing in.

'It's only your imagination',

'I'm dying'.

'You're dreaming',

'It's a nightmare'.

Ponder over the sharpest knives,

Load that pistol.

Stare down,

From the highest point.

Dive,

Through the air,

Through the balcony,

Dive, Dive, Die.

Untitled

The sheep are dying,
Your smile, stop.
Don't you see?
Don't you see?

You laugh and enjoy your parade,
You spill all your lemonade.
Careless, yes you are.
Careless, yes you are.

You've seen the strangest of days,
You've seen through my gloomy maze.
Yet you're blind now,
You're blind now.

You ride, you crossed the tide.
No more, you can't run and hide.
You're trapped, caged.
You're trapped and caged.

What used to be, a dream,
A nightmare, dark, beautiful, your scream.
Blaring through the radio, your scream.
Blaring through the radio.

I'm back to my rambling,
Hitchhiking life, and gambling.
Play my cards, that's all I have.
Play my cards.

Mystic mountains, A deep fog,
Laughing frogs.
They're laughing at you,
They're laughing at you.

Is your mask broken?
A parting token.
Don't fret. It's love.
Don't fret.

It's pain, crucifixion.
Don't blame me, you made the decision.
Your mother's faithful child.
Your mother's child.

It's the end of the day,
The night has awoken.
The day is broken.
The day is broken.

Hibernation. Deep canon balls,
Blaring through the sky.
Trees broken. Lives destroyed.
Trees broken, Death is here.

Look into it's eyes, vast as the sea.
The blind eyes, that you can't see.
But it can see you, death can.
It can see you.

Hill Station Blues

A horse, silent and steady,

Busy in contemplation.

A dog tired,

Half asleep.

A feathered sky above.

Steroid pumped clouds.

All you need to know about life and death,

Is up there, in that sky.

A cow, wild and hungry,

Grazing the grass,

That grew on the graves,

Inside a sombre graveyard.

A dozen or more,

Hungry monkeys.

Jumping restlessly.

Holding on.

Holding on to passing cars,

For want of food.

Diving and blocking,

Killing in their will to live.

Screeching tires,

A flying car,

A missed turn,

Upon the hill.

A broken vehicle,

Filled with fuel.

A forest in danger.

Fire.

The driver's seat is empty.

There is no magic here.

All that remains,

A few pieces of skin and bones.

The murder's own habitat,

Now threatened.

Yet, unaware, the monkeys,

Jump on to the next passing car.

Scenes From A South Indian Temple

Screams, prayers and chanting,

Laughter, tears and panting.

Countless people,

An M&Ms pack of emotions.

Children looking after the old,

The old looking after their sanity.

A group of religious skinheads,

You can find them in any corner.

A money hungry elephant,

That blesses the people,

That feed it money.

A tap on their heads, their blessing.

Women in prayer,

Blocking the way.

Another lot,

Blocking the music.

A hundred idols,

A hundred Gods.

Footsteps and eerie music,

Sounds from the background.

Coconuts and garlands of flowers,

All for an extra fee.

Photographs and another hall to see,

All for an extra fee.

Your Eyes

Your eyes,

The mirrors to my soul.

I held your glance,

and fell into a deep trance.

I saw my years,

Rolled into one.

I saw my dreams,

The ones I never knew I had.

Your eyes,

The mirrors to my soul.

I fell into them,

The deepest sea.

I drowned.

A ship that was your tounge,

Rescued me.

Your teeth, the able hands.

Your eyes,

The mirrors to my soul.

The never ending sky.

Cloudy.

The brightest blue,

The darkest black.

The greatest sky.

Your eyes.

The Dull Peacock

I dream about tomorrow,

The blank pages,

Yet to be written.

I should rest my sleepy eyes,

Get a good night's sleep.

Wake up to a brand new dream.

But the museums remain,

In my mind and thought.

Shabby faces, darkened places.

The museums of time,

The museums of my past,

Where every clock has passed 12.

I dreamt of a peacock,

Who hid it's bright feathers,

With a turtleneck sweater.

When will the peacock strip?

When will the world?

When will I?

Strip off the responsibilities,

The limitations.

When will I be free?

Rain

My heart is melting,

Like ice cream on a sunny afternoon.

Dripping slowly to the floor.

God isn't here now,

He's busy with his show.

He's making the clouds cry.

I saw God's show.

My life reflects on the rivers,

The rivers the tears fill.

A dazzling noisy light show.

The clouds are born actors,

Could they be any more natural?

Daydream in the Moonlight

My gaze unfixed,

A dozen smiles to choose from,

Uninterested in the dozen,

My eyes wander.

The dozen,

A part of a group,

Me with them,

Half unconscious.

Under the influence,

Of nothing but fatigue.

A few words from their conversations,

Enter my weary ears.

A shadow of unconsciousness,

Caresses me.

It forces me,

To make peace with it.

I felt no fear,

No surprise.

I daydream,

In the moonlight.

Aeroplane Blues

Cotton clouds,

Raindrops,

Fall on your window,

Your thick air tight window.

Suddenly you stop noticing.

Fear creeps up slowly.

Too soon for landing,

You wonder what's happening.

Too afraid to think.

Down you go.

Seat belts rattle.

You're startled.

Yellow masks fall from the sky.

Everyone starts to panic.

You wear your mask,

You breathe heavily.

Suddenly you stop living.

It all went by in a flash.

Nothing more, it's over.

How fast, it all went by.

User Guide

You came with a 'user's guide'.

The salesman guaranteed you.

I bought you,

and used you,

But I never bothered to read the guide.

Later I lost you.

Malfunction.

By this time,

I had known you so well,

I had thrown the guide out.

I wish that I hadn't bought you,

Whatever the discount was.

I wish that I hadn't loved you,

Whatever the special offers were.

You're a broken colour tv,

Through which I can only see black and white.

You're a broken telephone,

That rings when no one's calling.

You're an ipod,

Where I can only hear one song,

Repeating,

Even when I have a thousand others.

Stop.

I want to breathe.

I want to be free.

Free.

I want to be free.

Ice Cold

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Reflect

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Locked. Trapped. In The City.

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Grandmother Blues

Awoke on a snowy summer morning,

A nightmare responsible.

Visions of Christ and balloons.

Took a bath,

thought of painting my walls,

yellow I decided.

Acrylic paint tubes, all empty.

'Use green instead',

a voice in my head said.

'May the force be with you',

was my swift reply.

A box of crayons, my eyes landed on.

Searched a bit, till I found yellow.

Bright like the sun, it shone.

Went straight to the walls,

And like a 3 year's child,

I began.

Too tiring, I concluded.

Time to call granny,

she'd be pretty lonely,

Took a while, to get here,

she did.

She rang the bell.

Greeted with a pistol and crayons.

The pistols where from last night.

An encounter with flying ninjas,

I'd rather not remember.

Told her what to do, I did.

An hour passed by along with two walls.

'I can't take it anymore', she said.

Teach her a lesson I had to,

A few rounds into her legs.

Right or left, I cannot recall.

Obedience followed.

A bit of blood,

Never hurt anybody did it?

Consumer Prisoner

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Shadowplay

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The Clouds of Flight

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Time

Hanging on to time,

Holding on to the black minute hand,

Of a giant white clock.

Until I can hang on no longer,

When the clock strikes thirty.

A long fall,

But a soft landing,

A carpeted bridge.

On the far end sits,

An old snake charmer.

The bridge is flat,

Much like the Earth.

Under it hang seven chandeliers,

That light the elegant ball below,

Puppets immaculately dressed.

I wear shabby clothes,

I'm ashamed.

'Be aware',

I hear from the corner of my ear.

I look around and finally up.

There is no roof,

Only a clear sky,

With a moon,

Full and bright.

The snake charmer's eyes are round and bright.

The snake charmer's snake,

Slithers towards me.

I grab it by it's tail,

And throw it to the moon,

Where it circles itself around a crater.

It bites it's tail.

An apple falls on my head.

I need to fly,

Fly to the moon.

I look around.

I spot the charmer,

I kill him.

I lift his basket.

I find a pair of wings,

I fly.

A Child Of Six

I wish I was a child,

At the age of six.

Fun loving and wild,

No emotion broken to fix.

Happy with my toys,

And a wild imagination.

No need for other girls or boys.

No feelings of isolation.

Finding beauty in everything,

Optimistic and free.

Joy in living,

Hanging by the branch of a tree.

Cinema

I want to learn how to make movies. I've even got a few ideas in my head for a few very short movies. Picture this -

Black and white.

A group of punks or skinheads are at a dining table, eating their fried chicken. There's a bucket (bucket of chicken) at the centre of the table. After eating their chicken, they put their bones into the bucket. They don't talk, just concentrate on eating their chicken. After they're done eating, and with all the bones in the bucket, they get up. One of them picks up the bucket and they all start walking. They exit the house or wherever they were eating at, and just walk. A few seconds later (skipping a bit of walking) they reach a graveyard. They find an already dug up area. They empty the bucket into it, and bury it. There's a tombstone there, but it's hidden by darkness. After burying they leave, and the camera zooms in on the tombstone, on which is written, 'Thank you, for dinner.'

Yes I know you loved it. I have another one for you, haha.

A man's lying on his bed, looking at a painting on the wall opposite to him. The painting is of a red balloon with a psychedelic background. As he looks on, the balloon escapes the painting and is flying around his room. The canvas has only the background. The balloon flies up and hits the spinning fan, and bursts. Unbelievingly the man rubs his eyes, and looks at the painting once again. The painting has the same background and the balloon's back in it, but this time, the balloon is a punctured one of the same colour.