Trippy

If I was trippy you’d kno
‘cause then for a change
I wouldn’t act drunk….
The dimensionless horizon has
Turned us into strangers
You and i.
And as the sand clock turns,
The storm whips past
I have tucked in the strands
Of my hair, they are the
Only things I control now.
Spring has found us again,
But we lost us somewhere
In the dry oases,
Where you seemed a mirage.
Yes, we are strangers now,
If I was trippy,
Would you still know???

Asymptote

I walk down roads of infinite density
of nights in candy pink
hues of mauve and scarlet
in hest I blink.

Of life and times bathed in
the white of winning moments
and....shrivelled silence.
Reformation,recombination
and regeneration of space.....laughter

.I soak in love, in white,
in black and red passion
truthful falsity in kisses
and torment.
Ravages of spirit have conjured
a tempestuous rage.
Monstrous agony in
disappearance and smile,
mirth, pleasure....silence.....
I rejoice over my ruins...

Musings

Finally, I’m here. In the world of 18 year olds….. it always felt like a milestone. But now that I’m actually here, it doesn’t seem all that great anymore. It feels like autumn today, as if the winter I was waiting for is not so different after all. Its just an extension of the times of fallen leaves and hues of yellow. The days are blending into each other and even as I stand on the threshold of adulthood, I feel I’ve seen all this before…. This wintry sunshine, the lost foliage, the heather that still awaits its time to peep out of its slumber….
I suddenly realize that spring is yet to arrive , that try as I might, being 18 will never be spring, the warmth of the embrace of life will take its time to come. it wont be hurried by a moment of transition from 17 to 18. I wait, with bated breath, because I’d like to believe that one day, the blend shall happen again, that the white of winter will give way to the magenta of spring……
Its reassuring to have something to look forward to. Maybe that’s why they finally admitted, I sound 18…… I’ve been here before, they just wouldn’t admit it…..

Frozen (thoughts as I turn 18)

Gathered moments have turned into seconds,
Into minutes and hours.
Those in their turn have shaped
Nights, weeks, months
Which have moulded into years gone by,
My easel is washed dry.

The paint brushes are lost
White is night and hope is right
The eternal mindblind poem
Haunts the smiling tear.
18-a new year.
No change, life in candy pink,
Midnight blue
Shocking, choking hue.
Talking to the mirror
Another year, another shiver.

Memories rolled into a rubber ball
Of love, trust and faith
Wounds, hate.
People going and coming, living and
Dying, laughing, crying
Grieving, mourning, flying
Lying, trying
I watch, fathom
The relentless sunshine.
Frozen……