A journey,
finally a turn.
A shout,
of joy.
A heart,
set free.
Faith,
risen.
Beauty,
given.
Blessed
and favoured.
Me.
Monday 16 November 2009
Saturday 31 October 2009
Tuesday 4 August 2009
Y-O-U
You are what was good in my life
The songs, late nights, childish dreams of
tomorrow's happiness and strife
Contrived silence, a suppressed blush
Were the games we played though
we kept it all hush hush
Outdo, out-smile- it came so easily
Competing in the name of love
and celebrating the intimacy
You are what I loved most about me
Our smiles, tears and fights were all together
to be the best I could be
The songs, late nights, childish dreams of
tomorrow's happiness and strife
Contrived silence, a suppressed blush
Were the games we played though
we kept it all hush hush
Outdo, out-smile- it came so easily
Competing in the name of love
and celebrating the intimacy
You are what I loved most about me
Our smiles, tears and fights were all together
to be the best I could be
Friday 31 July 2009
A selfish rhyme
As vast as this world may seem
I squeeze it down to me
There's anger, passion, unity
Love and humility
The fuel of my desire
Lights the fire
Echo of my words fills the dawn
From the day I was born
In secret is my rendezvous
Selfish and selfless
Not shy of any secret revealed
Dressing wounds that won't heal
The world is just a bubble
Bright and colourful
Waiting to be blown away
I lose interest and walk away
Two mirrors, one pump and two wheels
Multiplied is humanity
Life becomes anonymity
I shut it out to be free
I squeeze it down to me
There's anger, passion, unity
Love and humility
The fuel of my desire
Lights the fire
Echo of my words fills the dawn
From the day I was born
In secret is my rendezvous
Selfish and selfless
Not shy of any secret revealed
Dressing wounds that won't heal
The world is just a bubble
Bright and colourful
Waiting to be blown away
I lose interest and walk away
Two mirrors, one pump and two wheels
Multiplied is humanity
Life becomes anonymity
I shut it out to be free
Friday 10 July 2009
Bleeding
When I couldn't understand
I kept silent
When you let go of my hand
I ble(e)d words
So near you could hear my breath
But not my cry
The distance grew to such a length
I ble(e)d words
If there is comfort in darkness
I couldn't sense it
Because I carried the sadness
I ble(e)d words
I am alone as I always was
To want and not have
When I re-live that pause
I ble(e)d words
I kept silent
When you let go of my hand
I ble(e)d words
So near you could hear my breath
But not my cry
The distance grew to such a length
I ble(e)d words
If there is comfort in darkness
I couldn't sense it
Because I carried the sadness
I ble(e)d words
I am alone as I always was
To want and not have
When I re-live that pause
I ble(e)d words
Sunday 28 June 2009
My-chael
Many years ago in school a teacher asked me to name two famous musicians that were recognised everywhere in the world. We all agreed that one was Michael Jackson. Eight years on and I still don't have a second name.
This man had a kind of influence that cannot be attributed to any other. Since his death I haven't been able to get him off my mind. My ears keep ringing with his songs and I refuse to let it fully register that we now live in a world without the moonwalk-er.
While he was alive I didn't think of him, his misery and fame, his obsessions and influence, his failings and heights as much as in his death. It's been the hardest to believe what my eyes see and read. The man who performed like a soldier couldn't just fall breathless and die.
The MJ I remember was a towering figure on stage with those perfect black pants through which his legs moved so well and the crisp white shirt fluttering behind him. Never had a man looked so good in such little colour. The black-white combination looked better on no one else. The hat-throwing was a personal favourite and how I wished I was there and had caught it.
Besides the hat there are too many things about him I couldn't quite catch. Even now every few minutes the media creates a new Jackson. One was the crazed celebrity, part devilish and the other a human whose failings were just as human. But to accuse him of his crimes we must think we are terribly righteous.
His greatest accusation- living life like a child. Name one person who till date doesn't want to be a carefree child once more. He did too and the world just said no. Loneliness makes you do strange things, who doesn't know that.
It was the coolest thing to have owned a slightly battered audio cassette of his album 'Bad' back in school. I spent hours listening to his tunes, every one better than the previous. The words, some of them which thanks to the internet I am now learning, did not really matter as long as you got the 'dirty diannas', the 'beat its' and the 'smooooth criminals,' all the while waiting for the beloved 'aoww'.
I cringed at his patent crotch grabbing/touching routine but the performances were incomplete without at least a half a dozen of those. I was mesmerised by him even though the face before me kept changing. At the beginning of the 'transformation' though he looked quite alright...ok he looked nice. However, my personal lesson from this is that the nose that mama gives you is the best.
As a fan he really tested my orthodox levels of acceptance. The child abuse cases were shocking but till today my sane mind feels there has been some foul play. But if there is any, any truth in this, I regretfully say he is probably the only such loathful human being for whom I have a slightly soft corner.
With his death the images that remain with me are of a talented, lonely man. I cannot forget the red African top and the boys with drums from 'they don't really care about us'. They didn't care for him, they don't care for anyone. Such is life.
He was there for us for a part of our lives- whether it was teens or adulthood giving us music to make this life bearable. For all of us at some point or the other he was My-chael.
****
I just couldn't not write this.
This man had a kind of influence that cannot be attributed to any other. Since his death I haven't been able to get him off my mind. My ears keep ringing with his songs and I refuse to let it fully register that we now live in a world without the moonwalk-er.
While he was alive I didn't think of him, his misery and fame, his obsessions and influence, his failings and heights as much as in his death. It's been the hardest to believe what my eyes see and read. The man who performed like a soldier couldn't just fall breathless and die.
The MJ I remember was a towering figure on stage with those perfect black pants through which his legs moved so well and the crisp white shirt fluttering behind him. Never had a man looked so good in such little colour. The black-white combination looked better on no one else. The hat-throwing was a personal favourite and how I wished I was there and had caught it.
Besides the hat there are too many things about him I couldn't quite catch. Even now every few minutes the media creates a new Jackson. One was the crazed celebrity, part devilish and the other a human whose failings were just as human. But to accuse him of his crimes we must think we are terribly righteous.
His greatest accusation- living life like a child. Name one person who till date doesn't want to be a carefree child once more. He did too and the world just said no. Loneliness makes you do strange things, who doesn't know that.
It was the coolest thing to have owned a slightly battered audio cassette of his album 'Bad' back in school. I spent hours listening to his tunes, every one better than the previous. The words, some of them which thanks to the internet I am now learning, did not really matter as long as you got the 'dirty diannas', the 'beat its' and the 'smooooth criminals,' all the while waiting for the beloved 'aoww'.
I cringed at his patent crotch grabbing/touching routine but the performances were incomplete without at least a half a dozen of those. I was mesmerised by him even though the face before me kept changing. At the beginning of the 'transformation' though he looked quite alright...ok he looked nice. However, my personal lesson from this is that the nose that mama gives you is the best.
As a fan he really tested my orthodox levels of acceptance. The child abuse cases were shocking but till today my sane mind feels there has been some foul play. But if there is any, any truth in this, I regretfully say he is probably the only such loathful human being for whom I have a slightly soft corner.
With his death the images that remain with me are of a talented, lonely man. I cannot forget the red African top and the boys with drums from 'they don't really care about us'. They didn't care for him, they don't care for anyone. Such is life.
He was there for us for a part of our lives- whether it was teens or adulthood giving us music to make this life bearable. For all of us at some point or the other he was My-chael.
****
I just couldn't not write this.
Thursday 21 May 2009
One
I want one day of great faith
no doubts, no hate
A day of silence
a day of innocence
Give me one day of bliss
where I am no less
A day without any judging
or shame of sinning
Wish I had one day with no desires
or passions that burn like fire
A day of looking within
and shedding old skin
Only one day to walk ahead
no burden or thought in my head
A day to soak in the rain
not living up to any name
I ask
for only one
no doubts, no hate
A day of silence
a day of innocence
Give me one day of bliss
where I am no less
A day without any judging
or shame of sinning
Wish I had one day with no desires
or passions that burn like fire
A day of looking within
and shedding old skin
Only one day to walk ahead
no burden or thought in my head
A day to soak in the rain
not living up to any name
I ask
for only one
Friday 15 May 2009
In a corner of my mind
A shiny dress hanging at the end of my closet
a day soon coming
it will leave
A fire keeps burning, beating wind or wave
it keeps consuming
won't burn me out
A tear from my eye, licking my lash
threatens to fall
and have me grieve
A chain on my wings, tightening all the time
a moment of faith
and I would be free
There is a day I have been dreaming about
it will be
it will be
****
Inspired by a song. Am falling in love with words all over.
a day soon coming
it will leave
A fire keeps burning, beating wind or wave
it keeps consuming
won't burn me out
A tear from my eye, licking my lash
threatens to fall
and have me grieve
A chain on my wings, tightening all the time
a moment of faith
and I would be free
There is a day I have been dreaming about
it will be
it will be
****
Inspired by a song. Am falling in love with words all over.
Tuesday 7 April 2009
The break
The mirror doesn't lie
It isn't moved when I cry
No stars are left in my sky
Only darkness reflected from my eye.
Tears swept away with the smiles
Now remains a crease between the eyes
That too shall fade
When life again invades.
I want to run and hide
Don't want love by my side
I need to be selfish and now
I've just got to figure out how.
Love makes you do silly things
All for a human being
When no good feelings are left
There's plenty emptiness.
It's all been done before
Yes, I did it once more
I'm now trying to learn
To live with the shame.
It isn't moved when I cry
No stars are left in my sky
Only darkness reflected from my eye.
Tears swept away with the smiles
Now remains a crease between the eyes
That too shall fade
When life again invades.
I want to run and hide
Don't want love by my side
I need to be selfish and now
I've just got to figure out how.
Love makes you do silly things
All for a human being
When no good feelings are left
There's plenty emptiness.
It's all been done before
Yes, I did it once more
I'm now trying to learn
To live with the shame.
Monday 2 March 2009
Never, nothing
There has never been a mentor
Never been anyone greater
Never been a name to swear by
Never been a standby
No one always there
No one who cares
Never been one for letting go
Never been taking it slow
Never been not right
Never been able to win fights
Nothing extraordinary
Nothing valuable for this drudgery
Never been a time there wasn't
Nothing
Never been anyone greater
Never been a name to swear by
Never been a standby
No one always there
No one who cares
Never been one for letting go
Never been taking it slow
Never been not right
Never been able to win fights
Nothing extraordinary
Nothing valuable for this drudgery
Never been a time there wasn't
Nothing
Thursday 8 January 2009
A new year look at me
One week into the new year and I fail, like many around the world, to see the newness of it all. Yes, I did hug and smile when the clock struck 12 on the last day of the previous one, hoping and expecting something to be new. It was all fake.
I'm still the same. Pissed off, temperamental, with no desire to change. But so are others. Mom and I still cannot go out shopping without a fight, dad still thinks I'm a kid, the world still round and chilly still messes up my stomach.
The new things I can think of are- I'll be a year older, I got three new tops and a realisation that I may actually be a meanie. Not much to boast about, eh? Still I move on wishing happy new year to one and all on the phone, buy a new calendar, wait for the first birthday of the year- to start the same routine all over again.
The old habits that I have brought along with me need to go away and new ones formed. Standard homo sapien behaviour. We are all typical then and so am I.
I'm still the same. Pissed off, temperamental, with no desire to change. But so are others. Mom and I still cannot go out shopping without a fight, dad still thinks I'm a kid, the world still round and chilly still messes up my stomach.
The new things I can think of are- I'll be a year older, I got three new tops and a realisation that I may actually be a meanie. Not much to boast about, eh? Still I move on wishing happy new year to one and all on the phone, buy a new calendar, wait for the first birthday of the year- to start the same routine all over again.
The old habits that I have brought along with me need to go away and new ones formed. Standard homo sapien behaviour. We are all typical then and so am I.
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