wildflower

here we are
burning faster than the cursed star
falling back down to earth
i love you so it sometimes hurts

there's too much love
for this little heart of mine
i'm just not good enough
and so love hurts every time

trying to hold on to you
i cling to every memory of you
but it's all air and as we fall
i come up empty-handed

our butterfly flew away
it's a drab world now
one that's filled with you
one that's always missing you

and here we go again
falling through love
holding hands together
all in this mind here

but it hurts so much
to be soaring one second
and be falling the next
falling and failing

the first para is from 'wildflower' - sheryl crow.

end

i don't have control over my actions. someone made me do what i'm doing. and i've no choice but rush towards a vortex in a terrible hurry. a vortex i'm terribly afraid of. a black hole that would mean the end of my existence. i'm just another component of a huge crowd, a straw in a pile of hay. running along, jostled around, pushed and pulled. a flurry of thoughts crosses my mind as i hurtle along towards my inevitable death. i want to break free. i'm not afraid of dying but i wanna die free. not as a part of a crowd of lemmings jumping off a ledge. i hate their touch as they prod me along. i hate the cacophony of voices all around me. i want to be left alone. but i know i can't do anything.

i'm a ripple.

and the lake is gonna eat me up.

YO!!

i LOVE blogger. i really do. i swear. what's this recent declaration of love all about? well, blogger decided to include an autosave feature just like our already-lovely gmail. no more unsaved blogs. no more recovering blogs after crashes, praying fervently that the cookie thing worked.

i'd have liked to yell YAHOO!! but it seems inappropriate in this context [:P]!!

i LOVE google.

vacation posting 6 - bubble wrap

I go about life
Ensconced in a bubble wrap
Each small bubble a dream
My bulwark against the world

Me goes about my life
Puncturing each bubble
One by one
Breaking the dream

Sometimes I ask Me
Why he does so
The only reply I ever get
Is another broken dream

vacation posting 5 - dreams

Dreams. Reams of them. Dear dreams. Mere dreams. Smeared over. With colors I painted them with. Dreams made red. Bright red. Red like blood. Red like fire. What’s it called? Crimson, I think. Yes, crimson. Like the sky at sunset.

Dreams are funny things. But then life is funny too, isn’t it? But dreams are especially funny. Dream like a dreamer. Dream like there’s no tomorrow. Dream of tomorrows. But the yesterdays hurt. Hurt and pain. But what’s a dream got to do with pain? Or happiness either. A dream is a dream is a dream. An entity by itself. An existence of its own. Almost imperious. Almost haughty.

Dreams make me angry. But I don’t make dreams angry. Nor do I dream angry dreams.

Some dreams come true. Some don’t. Most don’t. Or is it ‘some’? Depends. On how many dreams are there. For me, it’s most. Does it hurt when dreams break? A question with an obvious answer. Sometimes I wish dreams could feel. Then they would be hurt too. And stop spawning.

Spawning. That’s the right word. One dream leads to another and then to yet another one. A never ending sequence. Dreams feed on themselves. No, not feeding. Coz a dream born doesn’t mean a dead dream.

Dream, dream dreams. Forget the me. Let go of the dams. Go mad. And sad. Dream dreams.

vacation posting 5 - dreams

Dreams. Reams of them. Dear dreams. Mere dreams. Smeared over. With colors I painted them with. Dreams made red. Bright red. Red like blood. Red like fire. What’s it called? Crimson, I think. Yes, crimson. Like the sky at sunset.

Dreams are funny things. But then life is funny too, isn’t it? But dreams are especially funny. Dream like a dreamer. Dream like there’s no tomorrow. Dream of tomorrows. But the yesterdays hurt. Hurt and pain. But what’s a dream got to do with pain? Or happiness either. A dream is a dream is a dream. An entity by itself. An existence of its own. Almost imperious. Almost haughty.

Dreams make me angry. But I don’t make dreams angry. Nor do I dream angry dreams.

Some dreams come true. Some don’t. Most don’t. Or is it ‘some’? Depends. On how many dreams are there. For me, it’s most. Does it hurt when dreams break? A question with an obvious answer. Sometimes I wish dreams could feel. Then they would be hurt too. And stop spawning.

Spawning. That’s the right word. One dream leads to another and then to yet another one. A never ending sequence. Dreams feed on themselves. No, not feeding. Coz a dream born doesn’t mean a dead dream.

Dream, dream dreams. Forget the me. Let go of the dams. Go mad. And sad. Dream dreams.

vacation posting 4 - a lonely walk

There’s something about this place
As dusk pours in through
There’s still a little light left
You know it’s there, you see it
You feel the glow
But you can’t count on it

You walk through the forest
And the thorns catch you
They invariably do, don’t they?
Had it been day and light
The blood would have glistened
But it’s dark now, dark as dusk

Shadows loom over you
Some known, most unknown
And for once you wish
You were lost for good
The shadows are so loving
As they embrace you in their midst

Black and shades of gray
Visions floating across your eyes
Bright colors against a background
Of the dullest shades around
It’s the past and the future
All rolled into one

Long have you travelled this path
And there’s still a lot left
But the funny thing about
This sort of twilight is
You never know for sure
If it’s of dusk or dawn

there was this wallpaper i had been staring at for a long time. led to this piece.

vacation posting 3 : good night

I like to watch you sleep at night
Hear you breathe, by my side
See you eyelashes so wonderful
I want to touch your eyes
To tell you I’ll be there
When you wake up, my love

Sometimes I take your hand in mine
As much to tell you once again
How much you mean to me
As to feel the sweetest gift
The heavens could ever give me
Your hand in mine forever

the first two are lines from the song 'all you want' [dido]. didn't complete this poem. another unfinished one.

vacation posting 2 - lights

Blobs of light
In an otherwise dark multitude
Hanging in ether
Their existence a miracle
But miraculously guiding
People gravitating to them
Shining pates, sweaty brows,
They wander off but come again
The blobs have their charm

Its white light they give off
But they shine on a green world
Green wads exchanging hands
The eyes are glued to the green
But wander for a flicker of an instant
To the lights above
Looking for guidance
For meaning to all that greenery

You see them all around
As you try to avoid them
To make out figures in the dark
But try all you might
They’ll blind you in the end
It’s inevitable
You may die in the process
But you'll see the light
Even if it's the last thing you see.

my father took me to a haat. and there were these bulbs hanging in thin air, illuminating the sellers and the buyers. it looked enchanting from a distance.

vacation posting - 1 : left dry

Furrows left behind
A few drops here and there
But the earth is parched again
Thirsty, hungry
Only this time around
There’s no water

Travel the trellis
And the gullies and the ravines
Remnants of a season
Of rain and contentment
Some of the earth’s gone
Washed away, eroded
But there’s none of the water left

The heat gets unbearable
The earth’s on fire
Scurrying through the furrows
For a memory of water
There’s nothing to be found
But search it must
Coz there’s nothing else left

All that’s left to do
Is to wait
Look to the skies
For a squall
That might never come
Will never come

What if it never rains again?
What then?
The earth will crack up
Die a dusty death
And will wait for water
To come one final time
And wash away the ashes.