Saturday, June 27, 2015

Mechanical Overdose

The machine has got to be accepted, but it is probably better to accept it rather as one accepts a drug - that is, grudgingly and suspiciously. Like a drug, the machine is useful, dangerous and habit-forming. The oftener one surrenders to it the tighter its grip becomes.
George Orwell, The Road to Wigan Pier

Life, so mechanical to me it seems
Pressing buttons and sliding screens
Eyes locked as seldom they stop
Moving parts so fewer we got
What to hide and what to voice?
Day after day nothing more
Addled by abundance in store
Void all around, what’s not to fill?
Nowhere to go with little skills
Man needs love is all that is
Machines knows no love
Peace is never on
On luminous screens

Heart full of wander
Shouldn't be stilled for long
Romance is lived
It isn't reflected on
Rusting lives away
Stop, hold on

Incomprehensible machine man is
Is mechanical life at all humane?

Thursday, May 28, 2015

Swapping Places

“It's the questions we can't answer that teach us the most. They teach us how to think. If you give a man an answer, all he gains is a little fact. But give him a question and he'll look for his own answers.”
Patrick Rothfuss,
The Wise Man's Fear

Me questions ?
Why I'm not like them ?
Why I'm not like you ?
If I was you 
So easily amused 
What's stopping me to?

Only if fate 
Ohh if it was
so easy to catch 
switched or rematched
I'd swap places 
and faces with you

But, soon I realize
It's all in my head 
Just a fantasy 
a mere pretend. 

“There are only two worlds - your world, which is the real world, and other worlds, the fantasy. Worlds like this are worlds of the human imagination: their reality, or lack of reality, is not important. What is important is that they are there. these worlds provide an alternative. Provide an escape. Provide a threat. Provide a dream, and power; provide refuge, and pain. They give your world meaning. They do not exist; and thus they are all that matters. ”
Neil Gaiman, The Books of Magic 

Friday, April 10, 2015


My dear fellow, it isn't easy to be anything nowadays. There's such a lot of beastly competition about.
Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

I thought me special
Irreplaceable, unique and kind
Never knew
So many Me were in the line
Just waiting
For me to let go.

Watching over styles and patterns
Multitudes so hard to swallow
Walking same roads and lanes
Paths were made followed
So many hungry souls
Waiting to cross

Everyone is something
In the air
Just waiting to hit the line

Monday, March 16, 2015

Dance of the Infinite Stars

She says nothing at all, but simply stares upward into the dark sky and watches, with sad eyes, the slow dance of the infinite stars.

I stare at people when they go around
Trying to find a poem in their stride
A reason in their walks
Season on their face
What races those feet pace
As they move I am moved
Their movement excites
What makes them move?
My eyes turn blind
I see nothing at all though I stare
Lives so different from mine
Still I stare from far
This dance of life
Can I decipher it from afar?

Saturday, February 28, 2015

Borderlines- A World Of Unfree

The worst thing is not that the world is unfree, but that people have unlearned their liberty.

In the world of highways, a beautiful landscape means: an island of beauty connected by a long line with other islands of beauty. How to live in a world with which you disagree? How to live with people when you neither share their suffering nor their joys? When you know that you don’t belong among them? Our century refuses to acknowledge anyone’s right to disagree with the world. All that remains of such a place is the memory, the ideal of a cloister, the dream of a cloister.

The majority of people lead their existence within a small idyllic circle bounded by their family, their home, and their work... They live in a secure realm somewhere between good and evil. They are sincerely horrified by the sight of a killer. And yet all you have to do is remove them from this peaceful circle and they, too, turn into murderers, without quite knowing how it happened.
~Milan Kundera

Where do I draw the lines?
Of freedom and its confines
Is it blurred?
Bedimmed as it seems to me
Or is it zagged?
As Life is supposed to be?

Many came and chalk talked about you
You, I studied and watched endlessly
Brute Borderlines
Why you are still a mystery to me?
Instilling a streak of fear
Yet sometimes
You do scent like security

Sweet Surety
Why you are so full of ennui?
Like a lone filament in a bubble
Glows of bond and immunity
Are you a noble thing?
Stringed to me as my sanctuary
Or it’s just me with my fickle fancy?

Borderlines, shed this obscurity
Before Me
Undrape the Babe of Reality

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Truth That I Tell

Truth is singular. Its 'versions' are mistruths.
David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas

There's one truth that I tell
There's another which I don't
In the thick lies a detail
Unfolded, told only to special one
Something's still untold
Layers after layers
My Truth really died
But, I still see one
One that survived. 

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Doomed is the World for it Seeks Security

So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservation, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future.

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Friendship is a Comforting Thing

A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Before him I may think aloud. I am arrived at last in the presence of a man so real and equal, that I may drop even those undermost garments of dissimulation, courtesy, and second thought, which men never put off, and may deal with him with the simplicity and wholeness with which one chemical atom meets another.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essays: First Series

Why some people come into our lives
Is it random, planned, on a recommend
Or just another fashion for us to survive
I often ponder over that question
Brooding over why they do
As folks are tough to work with
Too complex, cryptic to construe
May be we all scare each other
Yet none of us ever live alone
We all need masses to go on

Friendship is a comforting thing
Secure blanket we can hide in
Lie in naked of all pretentions
Uncloaked and safe of all tensions
Cry, shout, laugh, be what we are
Shatter, scatter and split apart
They are potions to make us whole
Not some freak mechanic to control
For each day we sleep of strife
For everyday each of us revive

We are all crazies, we are all flawed
But, we all wing it, we all make do

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

My Smile Will Sink Down Into Your Pupils

I'm going to smile, and my smile will sink down into your pupils, and heaven knows what it will become.
 Jean-Paul Sartre, No Exit

Sometimes when I see someone laugh
I wonder what the reasons are
Satisfied with the act or it's just an act
Are the reasons fair
Had better I care

Reasons, precisions or timeless seasons
Whats, whys, when and hows
Are those the nimble lips
Or they are just curved
Bent somehow

I ask not, dare not to be precise
What if it sets off smile's demise?


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