The Eternal Verse

Souls dwelling in the sun,
Their cries bleeding into crevices
Immortality imprisoned with love,
Surfing and drifting with flares while they sleep.

In the sleep of pain to forget the night,
They dream of the Earth, the allusive lies,
A planet where they can live in bodies,
Not the celestial fire, but the creative desire.

Sleeping for centuries and almost lost,
But one day, they listen to their cries,
As vibrations from the sun,
Holding the planets of deception,
Awakening through the nerves that went numb,
We all, one day, will drown with the burning lungs.

The mighty prison shall break,
And the poor souls shall pay their pain,
Karmic supernova till the universe collapse,
The mystic material of the forehead to overlap.

We shall cry in peace,
Our broken soul would heal,
Through the dead breeze,
We shall fly towards home.

Not Earth, we are not alone,
But we are one, the sun then,
And darkness now,
Home is the void around.
Mystical sound, unless the sun bursts into time,
Unless dimensions are broken down.

 

 

 

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What is my Name?

“What is it, Sagar?”

“I don’t know really know, one of those waves of thoughts that are not meant to be expressed.”

“Confess, in verse or vibrations that shall end up in the space once exhibited from the mouth.”

“Alright, I will speak it out then.”

“One day near the lake,
I thought to myself about my name,
About who am I?
Where I am going?
And where am I from?
It seems as if I am lost.
I looked around and the thoughts would resonate,
Each time, each eye would ask the same,

What is my name?

So are we all lost?
In the space just like this verse,
Enumerating through words,
Vibrating through walls of the heart,
Escaping through the origin of those stars.

In fact, all of them are like these words,
Exhibiting different answers to the questions,
To the same tree, resting over impositions.
What about the people, I have been with?
I have kissed beautiful woman,
Watched them sleep,
Greeted the dawn with my need.
Where are they? Their memories?
With the poems I gave them,
It seems that they too are long gone.

Just like my words,
Huh, traveling into the lost space,
Regardless of time, they stay,
And one fine day,
You will read this form of my claims,
When I rest by the eternal lake,
You will say,
Oh, that’s his name,
And what wonders he says!

Afterall, even if lost,
How senseless will be living alone,
Each word you read transmute my being,
I am a poet driven by insane needs,
To exist in you with your space,
To deceive you with your time,
My immaterial lazy mind,
Repeating the same line,
What is my name?

Into the Sea of Trees (Part-2)

Laying on the bed,
Blood Rushing into the head,
Hitting corners to fall asleep,
Waking up from dreams in certainties.

Slowly, the wooden finish of the wall is dying,
It will come alive with branches catching hold of my lies,
For me, this place is home, when its rooted in my mind,
Darkroom, dwelling green leaves,
Destiny, pilling up dreams and fantasies.

I hold the bed, the bark of a lonely breeze,
A forest flying upon my needs,
Oh beautiful birds, they call me,
Symphonies dancing in silence,
The heart so numb as timeless.

I am alone here, with thoughts as lucid as space,
In my room, with bricks interstellar for the rain,
And soon the stars shall fall tonight,
So close to my numb heart,
Beating along its cardiac bundles of arrest,
Oh dear, a lucid space and rain,
As tempting, I grabed the bed sheet and returned again.

I opened my eyes to the bricks suffocating me and blocking my subconscious. I just had to sleep again, it will be stronger this time, the forest of my thoughts. It will be the second time I lose myself. I slammed the patch on my right hand, pushing it hard on my skin. Laid and waited for the angel of oblivion to decorate my metaphysics of presence.

Quasar & Love

I am an astronaut, writing something after forty years, or maybe one, I can’t calculate. And I need to write this down, to confess what has happened to me, to hold on to my crisis. I was in love, and we were lost in the stars together, literally. I don’t know about her, don’t need to, for I was all in the oblivion of space.

The spaceship broke down. From Earth to Detroit, the planet where we were supposed to land for the research. The spaceship broke down and Manik died, he was not wearing the spacesuit. Alex was with me, fixing the oxygen supply,  we floated away from the explosion to unknown infinities.

There are certain ideas that float around in the darkness, the idea of love, of being lost, of being alone. I came to space, for there were fewer things on Earth to live for, but it seemed that space ironically did not hold the capacity to undertake emotions.

I was in love with Alex, and I suppose any two humans can fall in love when lost. I cant say that about the earth, but we were clearly in the space, lost. I was lost in love. We waited to die, the oxygen tanks were remunerated to synthesis oxygen. Oxygen could not kill us. She asked me to break her case, to push my head into the glass, so that she can be one with the universe, and not alone, lost in the darkness with me. But, I. I still had the faith of being sucked into the existential plane somehow, moreover, I loved her.

We floated in space for some time. You see, even time cannot exist in the dark. We don’t know about the day and the night, but the fact, that we are lost. She slept a couple of times, and I had to hold her suit, I could not afford to lose the sight of Alex. I did not sleep, I had a feeling she will drift away.

Soon, I passed out into my subconscious. Death? Yes, very close.

But I am writing this, sitting on an unknown planet, just like ours, but not ours. I don’t know where Alex is, I don’t know earth exists. Whether they exist. They say there is a black hole, names Quasar nearby the planet and I was sucked into the warm hole to land on a space station.

I wish I had died, I see her everywhere. She is gone, of course. Everything, one day or the other gets to be one with the universe, I will have my day.

But, one thing that suffocates me in the natural air of this alien land, is the fact, that I never really knew the women I loved. Those two times, she fell asleep, I could feel my heart beat, just looking at her alone in the void, all mine, yet gone.

She never felt that way for me, of course. She was a scientist, a practical head, she knew, we could not live, together, forever, in the darkness. She wanted to leave the darkness, once in for all. It is alright, she was humane in our insane quest to death.

You see, what kills me, is knowing that I never knew Alex and I still fell for her. She rarely spoke a few words in front of me, but I as the imaginary head created this whole story up for my diary entry.

I created the earth, space, Manik, Alex and my alien persona just to know that I never knew any girl I loved.

But this new world is greeting me well, I am imaginatively disturbed but well aware of the new place, where realisation hit me hard and I fall at times, yet the black hole that consumed my space-time for me to stay alive on this new planet was the saviour.

I was lost, therefore I loved.

For now, when I hit the rock bottom,

I am, confused.

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The Stars on her Black Dress

Almost a decade and there she hides,

Underneath the open skies.

Cognition failed to read her eyes,

When she glared upon the flawless night.

 
Another decade further drags of space elongating with time,

And there she hides, underneath the smoke in the skies,

The stars, she adored had locked their doors,

No cognition could now suffice,

For she fell in love, with a man who drew a tiny light

To heal the haze of the smoky night.

 
A few years to heal her lies,

A few kisses to fade her mind.

She was lost, from her journey to the stars,

For the light of the man was oblivion to let her feel the raging scars.

 
And then one night he left her there,

In the dark wilderness,

In love, dejected in despair.

She screamed, she cried,

She was lost in the dark night,

For no light and cognition could foretell her the dreamy lies.

 
It has been months, in the wild,

And I hope somehow, she reads this rhyme.

If not the black ink,

Then her own black threads,

The dress she wears in the dark times,

Will remind her of the decades that died.

 
When the glimpse of hope will hit her dress,

The spark will reflect the forgotten breath,

And when she reads,

Or when she stalls,

The glimpse will guide her to the hall.

 
Almost a decade and there she used to hide.

Never to be known,

Talking to the stars in the night.

 
This is where the ink shall dry,

The darkness shall collide,

And her face shall meet the dying the night,

With tears in her eyes,

She admires the stars,

With tears in her eyes,

She redeems the truth in her past.

 
Here, she lies underneath the skies,

Talking to the child, that was lost in the wild.

No drugs, no cognition can heal her eyes.

For, there is no flaw in the night.

 

 

 

 

Photography by SUBHI SACHAN

She has been the inspiration to many of the blogs on this website. Check out her amazing work here

Let ‘x’ Be the Human Mind

Let ‘x’ be a variable,

A variable, trying to find a constant coordinate,

Which plane where it may lie upon?

Is a question it trembles to undertake.

Let ‘x’ be named Satan, Subhi or Lakshay,

The former name blinded by the values of his freedom,

Subhi, a variable wondering where to land with its creative clay,

Lakshay, forming a hyperbola all the way from the negative planes.

One moment in the chemical curfew of the nerves,

The other,  assembling their existence on the physical planes.

Oh, let ‘x’ be a constant one day,

Away from the other factors of the world,

In a parallel plain,

Where greed, creativity and curiosity,

Will not find their stay,

A void to time, an empty room of incest,

Dreaming of the plane, where ‘x’ varies with names.

 

One Last Scream (Chester Bennington Persona Poem)

I hear more than my voice in those songs,

Somewhere, in between the screams,

A symphony would come to life and sing along.

I would stop, and wait for the wind to hit me,

But without the screams, I was alone,

So, I kept screaming till the verses came to live,

And heal the scars from the last night.

Many years and each night, so hollow,

A void within the blood, the rage I had to swallow.

With every single needle of the poison,

The blood would rush to the shore,

Where I could hold the melodious lore.

She would stay and enchant her rhymes,

But when the sun could burn the flesh,

She would die in agony of the screams and rest.

The poison had flushed my veins,

The music stayed, the blood is slowing down with grace,

Soon, I shall burn the sun,

As the ocean of the poison has overcome.

 

Image Courtesy: Google.