February 29, 2008

Try not to Die

water is hotter
on a spiders web
the pens are lying
on the ground in some state
scribbling words that hurt the head
wiping away like a jigsaw spade

People passing
at a burning pace
laptops blinking
in a mesmerized daze
sharper turns
around shocking corners
the coroners dead
at the hands of the burner

Flip top caskets
shutter down in the rains
the lenses capture
some temporary pains
Jacks and kings
playing at their games
the queen is right
in the bed with the ace

Cellophane tapes
stick together on the pane
displayed light
go bright in sane
colorful eyes
stare through the frames
photographs torn
on the edge of an age

Jumping steps
come out of ways
to stifle down
your yesterdays
Remembering times
with the good old friends
side step on this story's end

Catch the sun
and the moon in a day
the stars are holes
in a brilliant way
one by one
the years go by
when I sleep at night
I try not to die.

February 23, 2008

Reality Vibes

Once there was a silent moment and you had it all for yourself. You shouted and shattered it into a billion glassy pieces.
What do you know?
Destruction and creation, black and white, yin and yang.

The shards all around would look really nice. Reflecting the waves of spectral lights- A pretty sight.
Like moments spread on a toasty morning, slippery with the alignment of heavenly bodies - ellipsoid events scattered with undecided regularity.

Somewhere on some street the cars stopped at once as one side signaled red.

A simultaneously green on the other side made the people step on the gas, accelerating into several directions, several times around. Where did they come from and where would the go?

This continued forever.

It changes and yet remains the same.

The skeleton of a new building in progress stared up at the skyscrapers on the other side of the shore. More people needed a place to live. More people needed places to go to.

More people were homeless on the street. More strangers one has yet to meet.

This continued forever.

It changed and yet remained the same.

The graveyard and the hospital were synchronized with the symmetry of life and death.
While some mourned the demise of loved ones, others celebrated the birth of ones to love...or hate....or kill. Life went on from physics to chemistry

The architect looked up and made a circle around this space and time. It all appeared in constant motion. Never still. Always moving.

Unaware to all a bigger circle was also drawn simultaneously. The ellipse of some huge ass galaxy was about to intersect the relatively minuscule orbit of the solar system that contained the third rock from the sun, and that cheese-faced moon.

An explosion was imminent. An explosion of cosmic proportions.



Hold on.

...or whatever you can do.

Just be. Just don’t shout please. This is a moment in eternity.

There is no need to get excited.

It is just reality

February 17, 2008

Whats on your mind - when loves in the air?

Lovely Nancy, Lovely Rita, Lovely Holly & Lovely Martha - all went to watch the vagina monologues and to experience sex in the city of New York. It was Valentines Day and love was in the air. The whole place appeared like a rose garden amidst a forest of fire flies. The major color in the air was red and the shapes around were curves of all kinds, standing out in sharp geometries of the linear landscape.

The four women had warm sensations throbbing between their legs. No need to get appalled - it is all very mechanistic really. There is a perfectly laid out set of well described biochemical pathways that underlie the feelings and emotions that these hasty individuals were experiencing while just walking around in the evening looking for a good time.

What is physical is ultimately chemical. And that which is chemical, ultimately fades into the chaos of information. Thereafter it is a matter of mind.

The internet that day was jam-packed with traffic, to and from myriad websites selling plastic tokens of love. Poetry was briefly a stimulating and highly paid activity for some time and for a certain sort of poets.

On the streets a young homeless girl just menstruated. Through the first experience of this unnameable pain she watched the dancing red and black dresses cuddling up in the snowy night. It felt strange. Her feelings and her physiology were wound up into a complex choreography that comprised her alienated existence - vibrations in the lifetime of an organism.

From the air New York city looked grand. John’s plane was about to land and he imagined the look on his sweet Jane’s face, waiting for him to sweep her into the bed. He felt the blood rush down his body, trying to break free.

From above, the city looked like a cell to the eyes of the biology professor who had been kicked out for trying to teach Intelligent Design in the class.

He had never thought about it this way - the city like a cell. It was quite a revealing shock. He took another sip of his scotch. Alcohol was strongly off limits to him, but this was different. This time he needed it.

He thought, “The city sleeps in the night and wakes up to the sun, in a collective circadian rhythm, sporadic and random. Was IT god?”

Jane was experiencing her third orgasm. She was heady and in bed with her boss who was lustfully staring into her eyes.

Then they heard the garage door open downstairs. Jane quickly got dressed and hurried out of the balcony window. She caught the time on the clock in the car. Shit. She was late to pick John at the airport.

Meanwhile, the biology professor in the plane above started to sweat profusely. Of course it was all biochemistry, even though in his case it was malfunctioning. He could not breathe and the restlessness was choking him. There was a mild commotion in the plane as the stewardess came out to investigate. Professor Snips was now delirious. He saw the approaching woman in black and white, but to him (or rather the discordant signals firing in his brain) she looked like the devil with a tail. In his confusion he kicked the plane window hard with his walking stick. After several violent attempts his imaginary door opened and the plane took a spin down into the ocean. As far as Snips was concerned he was fleeing from hell and falling into the cell.

He died with a dull thud on the rocks at the bottom of the sea.

Jane never made it to the airport. On the way she was accosted by a fatal accident.

Lovely Nancy, Lovely Rita, & Lovely Martha were held up by the police. They were shocked and stunned by the accident that just took place. The poor girl was probably – most certainly - dead.

Meanwhile Lovely Holly walked up to their bedroom where her husband was pretending to be asleep. Her memory was still filled with the wild orgies she and her friends had attended that evening. She climbed into the sheets. Jane’s underwear was carelessly lying underneath the bed.

In the background the TV ran commercial after commercial of white satin lies. To an insightful observer it would have been instantly obvious - the next best trick in advertising was sex. There was a reference to it in every contrived commercial about every possible product. Most of the ads had nothing even remotely to do with sex

In the midnight air, Bill Gates tried to forget his own impotency by lighting up the most expensive fireworks that night. The sky was lit up with the words "Happy Valentines Day my love". For a brief moment the constellations of neurons in everyone’s brains resonated with that view in the sky. It was soon over.

Lots of money was made that day. Gifts, roses, lingerie, poetry on sale, and what not. Everything made money in the name of love.

In a nearby suburb a teenage boy had his first kiss. It was the most beautiful day of his life. The patterns in his mind that made up this memory lit up like a starry sky. The kiss was frozen forever.

He looked up. Some insecure rich bastard had spent lots of money to write in the sky. He didn’t care though. He was happy. Happy Valentine’s Day.

February 07, 2008

Just a nother day....

There is a will to fight it all.
There is a will to die and there is a will to live forever.
The decrepit youths remain confused under the influence of the wiser world view.
It all was waiting to collapse.
The fears for fake careers and noble securities had tarnished the raw truth.
The cold hard fact of this NEW truth can sometimes hit you with a jolt of painful epiphanies.

Reality is that which shocks you.
Really, if it ain't appallingly drastic then it is not compelling enough to shake you off that pedestal that you have gotten so comfortable with.

Awareness is a new state of affairs my friend. It is a whole new twist in the tale.

Somehow the expressions of our mind have wiped out many elements of the very nature that inspired us to become who we have become - pathetic creatures of a material reality that was created by our so called intellectual prowess over the rest of the living world.

We have spun an artificial concept of humanity, which is impressive when viewed as an accomplishment, but mystifies you into madness if you see it for what it really is - a happening, an occurrence, a phenomenon arising out of the background of infinite and vibrant eternity.

These thoughts can spiral forever in the constraints of an attempt to discover, invent and become legendary in name, fame and money.
We can forever wonder about the empathy of the other fellow who feels what you or someone else you know can feel, but who can never understand his/her own motives.

The reasons behind these thoughts are that self-emergent mind(s) that set it all in motion through dreams, drugs and wakefulness.
Our sleeping brain is a blip in the sarcastic symmetry of the known and unknown universe.
It is just an uncertainty principle.

How many rules can we break?
How many laws can you take?
How long will it go till you confirm to a machine existence glued to the psychedelic commercial of a materialism that you must have. A Utopian Dream. A commodity.

Yes. Whats wrong with it you say eh?

Nothing wrong. It is just boring.
Cant you DO something? Something different, something completely original?
Cant you speak your mind, throw up your fears and for once be completely free to be blatantly honest - atleast to yourself?

Look outside your head for a while my sweet friend.
Watch the phenomenon unfold before your eyes like a motion picture played on a hologram.
Your life is just a reflection of the limits of your imagination.
Come on bend it more. Lets take it further.
What are you waiting for.
You are more insane than you imagine.

He woke up. The alarm kept ringing.
Then it stopped.
It was time to get up.
Thoughts flooded into his consciousness.
It was yet another day.

relative days

Like gold on black
this moment stands out
the shouts in my mind go still
I wonder if I will go back?
I wonder if I ever will?

So it moves and it stops
and it compels me to talk
to make sense of it
even though I can not

I grasp it
in its entirety
and yet it is a mystery
confused fragmented history
a busker on an empty street

I am it
and I am changing
I am changing
change with it.

5 senses and countless thoughts
dance in my head after thoughtless shots
Trees and ants
planets and plants
just whiz by my eyes
in a caustic dream

The sun was some place
else yesterday
and today is contrived
to appear the same way

its definitely a brand new day
but I still feel trapped
in the same old way

Looking at the stars
at night I think
how my thoughts shrink
into scars, dust and blinks

A microscopic world within.

The space underneath me slips away
like the preconceived ideas
that I grew up with.

I wait to sleep.
I wait to wake.
suddenly complete
but completely fake.

February 06, 2008

Door to dooR

open doors behind closed doors
the view of the ceiling
splashed on the floor
some more some more
before the moments wash ashore
to put me back where I was before

colored worlds behind blind eyes
slipping time and moping sighs
dissolved tears in eternal wonder
hidden fears smile beyond here

the people walk a bit
to the tapping funeral drum beat
if it were not like this
then how could it be
how could it be that these questions repeat?

Some wise man sang
about pangs of pain in joy
here your smile while theres your toy
life is brave and life is coy

closed doors behind open eyes
feet on the floor and eyes on the skies
splashed on the roof
money, love, and soot
the moments again wash to the shore
like before a thought is born
like before another one's gone