Broken Mind Rhymes

I admire your confusions,
Like day like death,
Like sky like sin,
Like bird like breath.
How sea and silence are one,
How mountains and the mind are two,
How my heart is never of counts,
For when I find you,
Next to the veins that I tied you up with in my head,
For you to stay,
And never leave me,
I realised, it’s not all the same .
Your confusions ,
Makes me your father, brother and self at times,
And clearly, my mind,
Dont have to be right at the farme of the flux that lights the colours alive.
I mean, how wonderful ever I could certainly adore something,
But now, it seems, I have to love it all,
Every piece of my heart from the past,
Every broken notes that turned into a tear,
All of it, has to be loved ,
By a father, son and brother.
For my little one died in the game of knowing things,
And the elder one never realised that we were wrong.
Your confusions,
Lile your red dense river,
Bleeding darkness,
As I call it,
Away,
For confusions are bright .
There are knots of blood,
Not letting go of what I have known,
In your eyes,
I found myself under the clear skies,
Oh dear divine,
Why this mind, play games,
To understand this oft spoken reality,
And knots of blood.
Her hair now, they sync into the rivers of my rush,
Red and dense,
She reminds me how Rivers should be,
Says, it’s the ocean we all aim,
Little delight with tsunamis,
That cleanse,
My heart,
Her hair..
Constellations and stars..
And what have I known,
Of the stars that died,
They bleed like us,
Into the same ocean,
She say,
Her eyes,
Bright skies,
All colours,
Oh dear divine,
Evasive mistakes,
Her hair,
Colours that reminds of my days,
Calm, and secure,
Never to be known,
Now that I lay under the skies,
Naked,
And the world glares upon my scars,
Those stars,
They cry,
It rains,
But I am healing,
Little do they do,
All these wet roads,
They lead to the ocean,
I smile,
It still rains,
Glares would curse the cosmos,
Only to flow with words,
And life.
Be lost, she said,
And I have never known,
Only felt the river and her bones.

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Dear Heart

Don’t shiver for she is far,

Dont fret, for her voice that you once met is no more around the thin air of your pulse.

Don’t go beyond what is yours,

The rain of blood,

Letting nerves grow.

Letting it all be red in the darkness.

Love splashing silence into screams,

Silence.

Silence.

Dont run so fast, if she is not there to hold you,

You won’t be able to reach her space,

She is lone commit passing my galaxies and lighting them up,

Don’t feel, for when you fell in love with her,

You forget that the universe moves and expands.

Like you, beating.

Jane Tu Ya Jane Na

It had been a while since I took in oxygen and the essence of life reached my heart. I think that’s how we grow, building walls across the sole existence of our true self. It hit me when she said,
“You cannot really love, you barely know what love is, you don’t know. But you think you know, maybe to know, you just need not know. That’s what I know, that I don’t know love, maybe that’s why I don’t have to be someone else with you. I feel amazing around you. That’s what we need, right now.”

So, I am in a middle of a messy schedule, a beautifully wrecked idea of life, but a recovered idea of self.

Hi,
It had been such a long while and now, we are here again. I am your writer alter- ego. No, I am not like Coleridge or Wordsworth. I am more like you, but always so far away from you. Sleeping in the corners of your untidy space, partying with the dying stars in the darkness of your negativity. Oh, my favourite place is the void. The void, where you used to keep yourself obliviated from everything. You still don’t really know reality and you smile while typing all of this? Well, that is you. That is what you have always been, but the superego hates us, isn’t it? I mean, superego hates not knowing and expressing these sentiments. But we still smile while typing this.

It is funny and beautiful. She is funny and beautiful. Life? Metaphors?

Oh, just stop already.

Blind Blood

You remember that day when you placed the sword on my neck, just forcing my skin to sense intimacy, I told you I was alright. Maybe, I was not.

I liked the way you looked at me. Blind in love, pulling roses out of the red blood that left my body to feel blue. You looked at me smiling and I smiled back, as my knees met the ground.

You never knew love, neither did I. I felt something, pain. You must have felt something, must have sensed something. As I leave you forever, and my blood hides in the sand, you must have felt something.

I lived my life hoping you felt something and that’s how I died, hopefully.

 

Chaos Theory: God’s Discipline

You were born on 20th March 1998 and you will die on 3rd November 2040. Now the problem is that there is no problem. You lived a life ignoring the thread that made you move, so the problem is itself not a problem but more like the reason for everything.

People call it faith, interesting word, then there is the concept of Karma, the action and the reaction. But then, there are practical people who will be having trouble reading this prose. Hold on, we shall get to maths soon.

The apple fell on Newton’s head and we know what is gravity. A few equations and we can predict the future of an asteroid that shall cross by earth in the year 2050. But I cried about my friend’s death. I did not ‘see’ it coming. No equation helped me with it. Hold on, I am not saying science is no answer.

A study in mathematics called the ‘chaos theory’ helps me understand the fact that I really could not save him. His smoking postulates end up in a life frame of 20 years. Yes, an equation altered with every variable that constituted the smoke particles in the air. The same equation held the number of times he drank an orange juice to help his lungs. The same equation held the genetic details for his cardiovascular conditions. The same equation.

But he died because of an accident. His death was announced, but he ran away from the hospital and died on the road because a heavy car hit him to death. Now, the same equation must hold the tactics of the stupid driver who could not control the acceleration at that point of space and time.

Alright, lets graph this question. What happened? Need more dimensions to impose the variations? And no, you cannot skip how the driver was drunk because of his desperate need to escape from his wrecked life. You see, chaotic. Faith? Faith is an equation you cant solve.

Its a puzzle, solve it and you are Brahma. The spirit that knows everything. The omnipotent.

Everything happens for a reason?

Thank God.

On the Corpse of the Cosmos

I am lost and seeking refuge. At times, at home, where everything is the same, I feel a surge of alienation. Alienation leading to the path of surreal yet complete encapsulation of illusions.

I sit down, numb everything but my forehead. It takes a while to forget the trauma of my sense. Slowly, a serene light hits the shore of my temple and I am held.
Held home, if you will.

But you won’t . So I don’t try telling people about it, I just open my eyes from the dimensions where time lacks influence on space. I open up to the world where all beings are just and lost, so I cry happy tears, knowing the reality and decay of the time.

Beautiful things are simple. Like a conversation with a friend who gets you. Although it is impossible at the versified age of human depression. But yesterday, I cried of happy tears with a friend. She could understand the light and the vision of the surreal home. So we took off to another plane and counted the dead stars in the night, while hanging out on the corpse of the cosmos.

The deal was simple, digital screens can end up in the best creative promt. We decided to let go off the entire universe, because inside encapsulation of the bent space, nothing that we are aware of really exist. Yes, the imagination led us to an inside of a dead star. It is strange and uknown to science as to what happens if someone breaks down while travelling through dimensions.

But thanks to the movie Intersteller, the virtual date got even more interesting. We visited memories in the void of that night. A few years in the broken space was funny enough to lose some tears, the good thing was that the expansion of the conscience was comforting.

It was like meditating, the wrong direction of escape but when pushed back into the realisation that it was around 2:00 AM, all we could do was smile on the broken dream.

Everything gives room for spiritual insight, its just that we forget how to smile sometimes. That one night happened for the justified carvation of these lines:

Last night, we slept on the corpse of the cosmos,
Lived a little while in her eyes,
A little in mine.
For memories and the mortality of time,
We laughed of the tears from life.