Wednesday 26 May 2010

circle of disoriented haze

Mist*

I sit here and wait for something to happen
Fingers tapping on the desk
Mind wandering with the music in my head
Thoughts, flashbacks and imaginings
All trapped into one corner of my mind
Confusing they are
For I am not able to discern the dream from reality
And the memory from the desire
I want you to get inside my head
With those little fingers of yours
And take off this little fragment of my mind
Where all the thoughts and emotions are entwined
Take this little piece of mind, and put it in a plate right here on my desk
So that I pull out the different threads
Put those of the same colors together
And put them back in my brain
And get out of this state of oblivion
And start doing something
Instead of sitting here and waiting
For something to happen

Tuesday 11 May 2010

At 25*

An attempt to draw the rambling of the incoherent thoughts visiting my mind very often lately...
There is much more to learn, much more to experience... much more to get hold of, even more to let go. At the end, it is what we do that defines us - and that keeps our memory floating in space next to the purple birds and on the minds of faithful souls. But are we really what we do?

We drift so much from who we are
We fail to find our true selves, by the end of the journey
Growing up, is an odd occurrence
Even odder, is maturing
Each age brings with it its own flicker
Sometimes it makes us smile, sometimes it makes us sad
Sometimes it is promising, other times it is pathetic
Each age has its colors and shapes
And those are reflected in our minds and on our skins
The layers add up as we grow older
Habits we acquire, knowledge we gain
Holes we fall into, mountains we climb on
Experience accumulated, as years pass by
But where is the “I”?
How would we know that who we are at this age, at this time in this space… is who we were born into?
Where is the essence?
There is a thin line between the truth and the total obliteration of it
Will we be able to ever draw this line?

After dark*

There is so much beauty in this world
So much left unseen
All it takes is a collective consciousness
Of two persons, three or four
Acting upon the spur-of-the-moment scheme
To get out of their shell
And go on wandering after dark

Let go of time, mind and norms
Let go of all carnal restrictions
Let go of daily routine
And endless traffic jams
Give yourself in to the pleasures of the night
Carelessly, euphorically
Like a fifteen year old

Only those with free minds and souls
Are entitled to see the beauty of the world