Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Nothing

Here's a short poem I wrote for a contest on the freedom of speech, self-censorship and the fear of speaking one's mind.

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Blame

Victim blaming

noun

A confession to possessing an inclination to commit the crime in question under identical circumstances.

It is thought that practitioners should be arrested on the grounds of criminal intent, as a precautionary measure a la Minority Report.

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Dancing

Like fountains of light, cascading
With the rise and fall
Of a symphony

Like merry fires, responding
To the silken touch
Of a playful breeze

Like falling rain drops, swaying
To the wild music
Of a thunderstorm

Young men and women, dancing
To cheery tunes
In life's musical

Sunday, September 20, 2015

Waiting

She stands in anticipation
In the long queue of Greatness.
Tired, she sleeps, dreaming
Of the Someday she's sure will come.

She'll be waiting for a while
For the queue is a circle.
The secret no one told her
Was simply to stop waiting.

Try

I had lost all belief
I knew I wouldn't make it
I knew I ought to just give up
It was smarter, safer

Until one day
My body didn't listen
To the warning signs
Of my screaming brain

"Don't bother, just stop", she said
I said I'd try, just to see
She called me a fool and told me
How everyone would soon know

I said I didn't care, tuned her out
And went ahead anyway
Just to see what would happen
If I broke that barrier, crossed that line

And it was hard, fighting
Both her and the mighty wall
But at the end I made it through
The wall behind me had disappeared

I turned to the future and saw
A new wall rose before me
I smiled and realized
The war would never end

Well, I could be stubborn too.

Smile

Smile little girl
Oh, don't be sad
Smile little girl
You owe us that

Smile little girl
Put on your mask a while
Smile little girl
What an unpleasant child

There, little girl
Get rid of that frown
There, little girl
Isn't it all better now?

Thursday, September 10, 2015

Bound

If you could be anywhere
You'd still rather be here
Are you not caged?

Could you leave, if you liked
This land, this sphere?
Did you ever choose?

Well if I gave you a country
A city, a town, a home, a room
When would you suffocate?

You shrunk yourself
Fit your entire world
In a tiny box, labelled freedom

But your mind is infinite
There are no shackles here
Only the lost unbound

Want

Nothing so sweet
As that which once was
Nothing so craved
As that which almost is


Friday, September 04, 2015

Thirst

Water drops in silence
The goatskin now empty
All is quiet anticipation -
Tragedy, too, has her admirers

Fear plays its cardiac drum
The intro to an awful song
Enter Thirst - screaming her song
Whose panicked notes fill desert air

Gnawing, rasping, scraping
At the throat of the walking dead man
As if trying to clamber out
And find what isn't there

The water out of sight
The Adventurer nearly out of his mind
For hours and days and weeks it seems
The nightmare never ends for him

He walks, runs, crawls on his knees
Upright Pride, too, bends to need
His back droops, his legs give in
 Hope alone carries him still

Optimism, irrational, then takes over
Showing him again those impossible dreams
Of gold and jewels and fame at last
Dreams that had brought him here

To the golden lands - to his death, to his end,
He lays down, hoping to die until
To the East he sees his final hope
Towards oasis, towards life he runs

Only to find a deceitful mirage!
Hope has betrayed him, as has his breath
As he sinks, dead, onto the bed of sand
His knees unearthing riches glorious- worthless.


Note: How I would have ended The Alchemist.