the mystery

On a slightly cold moonlit night
In the green garden ground
propped up against the Bouganvilla fence
Sir Fairglow's body was found


A single slit graced his neck
A sleek crimson stroke
Such beauty in its Ghastliness
Only a cold blood could evoke


Sir Fairglow was a happy man
And many friends he kept
so it was agreed upon
The cause must surely be theft


For he'd have stepped out into the open
To soak in the  moon lit air of the night
and pounced upon by some dark eyed robber
hiding out of sight


'It's sad, sad", said Sir Crookednose
"Such a sad and terrible end"
"For the pious Fairglow the happy Fairglow"
"Was truly my most loved friend"


"He and I were together
Exchanging our views till late
When all of a sudden he said he'd get some air,
True calling of ones fate"

And with that he covered his eyes
and shed a loud tear
the tear that one sheds
On loosing someone dear

On Sir Crooked Nose's exit
Sir Foulmouth Stepped in
Said the same sorry words
With a lop-sided grin

Sir Calmface amongst them
Did not any emotion shake
He believed the  God ..who always giveth
Also knew when to take



...........bleh !!! solve it later !!!!

My dark Rapunzel

My time is the sun and moon

I wait beside the sea

trapped in a room of mirrors

no door ...no key

looking at myself age

my own true friend am I

there's no beauty i see

from where i lie

I long for the outside world

it scares my strife

for though I am a princess

I know no other life

lost in my locks of grace

lost in the curls of my head

i sit by the scenic window

wishing I were dead

for its said one day

He'll come to rescue me

what do I do.. how do I act then

when people say I'm free

All these years i've made myself happy

living in my little world

how do I catch life

When new things are hurl'd

Trapp'd in these walls for ages

no hope no ray

I long to be free

But know not the human way

For when the man in shining armour

is done with my fair skin

How will he handle

The monster I'm Within.

living dead

guided by lies ... living in vain

moonheaded freaks are sane

mirrors console stark agonies

all i see is.... pink ponies

need someone to share my head

untill then just living DEAD !

OtherSide

Dark shadow...Silver Shadow
The Portal's exposed Wide
Mercury in my Hands
I  descend into the Otherside

 

Dark Shadow... Silver Shadow

My reasons I confide

This world's a mirage

Into the Otherside I slide

Dark Shadow.. Silver Shadow

Everything that's  denied

Shall come in Shining streams

 On the Otherside 

Dark Shadow ... Silver Shadow

Promenade of the Otherside

Take me now... Keep me forever....

Its all i Decide.

the fight

I'll tell you a tale
Of this sunny day night
When two smiling blokes
Got into a fight


They took out their knives
And shot each other
Pulled out their guns
And stabbed each other

The one who was dumb
Screamed obsceneties some
And the other who was lame
Kicked the former on the bum

they laughed till they were angry
Kept their fist close
And when-ever someone ducked
They tickled his nose

Now i know you migt have reasons
To believe this ain't true
But trust me.....you can ask
The Blind man who saw it too.

A fairy Tale

on the three mountains of wisdom

stood three castles great

filled with knowledge  till the lofty towers

slightly leaned with all the weight

Lore had it that the castles

were enchanted since time old

and no wonder many a knight had tried

none had gotten the gold

and so the castles stood still

like a painting in a scape

a silhoutte of the ages

an unexplained shape

Legend had it that one day

a han'som knight would come by

 answer the three golden riddles

and let the gates fly

but legend upon legend grew

and none a knight did get by

for all their answers combined

none to the real came nigh

And then in the summer of apples

the prince of fountains came along

riding on his silver steed

following the tune of his song

and all that saw him knew then

that the prophecies were to come true

for the prince shone of lights above

and manners in same lieu

all he cared of was his song

that brought out the birds from the wood

our charming prince.... we shall call him now

was indeed a soul pure and good

and like every fairy-tale prince

he cared more of wisdom than gold

and knew that the knowledge in the castles

would make him more bold.

so his sword hanging from his belt

he approached the first gate

and chanced to find lodged there

a golden enscribed slate

it said : what is it that ?

runs in the meadows far

that smells of pride and sleeps of peace

and not a pain in any scar

the prince put a finger to his head

a hand on his armour

and with a smile , and heavy voice

cried out ... A  Farmer...

the first gate stood still

and nothing happened for a long second

and then in one swift stroke

it swevered and opened

now the second slate beckoned

and in a  writing very clear

 it asked the prince to name

was what was to wisdom most dear 

the prince's smile grew wide

he leaned easily against a post

and  said,' of all the things to wisdom  close,

Truth was most "

the second gate thundered and creaked

it let out a mighty roar

and right in front of all eyes

it began to soar

finally it was time

to answer the third slate

which asked the mighty prince

what Ronak preferred most on his plate

the prince let out his favourite laugh

for he had just shared a meal

with Ronak, the bloke  who's writing this

and knew the answer for real

so he blared  out the list of delicacies

just thinking of which makes my mouth drool

but for the sake of this poem

i'll try and remain cool

So there it was like in all fairy- tales

our prince the golden haired

upon all worthy adversaries

his wisdom fared

and with the opening of the castles

all wisdom unto him filled

Thus! our songster prince

was Pleasently thrilled .

So fare ye well ....this is the story

of the  castles  and the prince on his steed

which though is the stuff of legends

Is actually about food indeed ..:D

my world ...

i fly where angels dont....

i follow flames

i play where devils wont.....

even imagine games

to fit into mirrors...

and travel to nether realms

to be lost in crystals...

and call out your dreams

i die every past reason....

i die future  visions

i die all present ....

for i exist in illusions

arrrgh !!

tugging dead leaves
lost in dirty darkness
clawing for air

trapped in a hole
pull me out
somebody hear me cry
screams cant go through
the dirty darkness

lights fading
tug me someone
lost in dirty darkness
clawing for air

where do we go

i see you smile
you smile back at me
you let me hold your hand

where do we go from here
where do we go

i like the way you look
i like the way you talk
i like the way you move

where do i go from here
where do i go

we walk hand in hand
we look into each others eyes
we know its something else

where do we go from here
where do we go

reality check

you smoke like a chimney
you drink like the rain
n one fine mornin'
you wake up with all the pain

pirate lord

For all the rum n teh pieces of eight

Sans all worldly pleasure

Pull teh rigs.. Bellow to the sea

I be off for teh infamous treasure

Thar!! pull ye ships anchor

Adjourn'd for teh wispy ride

I be restin not..Till teh glassy gold

Is home by me side.

dust in the air

where do i run to when i cant think of reasons to live

to exist in flashes is draining

swirling memories that make me what i am

i've tampered them enough

wild visions i carry ... is there a reason for them

to stick out like a sore thumb i cant

to mingle in the grains of sand i cant

always lost .. always waitin for a better new

no allure is to great

no reason to live for

regent souls clashing for immortality

swirls of sodden smoke

i exist with a mind

is that why i exist ?

too many questions too less an answer

simple words that soothe

is what i look for

really out there

or a figmet .. a dust in the air ...

where do i run to when i cant think of reasons to live
to exist in flashes is draining
swirling memories that make me what i am
i've tampered them enough

wizard

through the foggy wind , under the lost sun
a stark outline in achromic merged
striding.....

towards minds :numb n scorched

none can hide , no destination escape
no curtains of distortion
surging....
firery flood : drowining in heat

the painful sharpness of his glare
the final answers
Towering...
look low: the WIZARD has arrived.

for you

to touch you is die

die to never be reborn

lost in those locks of hair

lost in your smell

my flaming tongue in your cave

my arms your resting stead

to hold you is to die

die never to be reborn

lost in time and space

in fantasy and the real

to rest on your burnimg heart

is to die never to be reborn again

king

king of the seven castles

i've lived for centuries

breathing soiled air

infertile waste

of rubbish cans

i have no inherent heir

Last Supper

Plates set up... forks laid
My graces all... said

Halls of eternity
Feasting Glee

I pull my chair ...take a deep Breath
For today I dine with Death !!

D' XIAN

There is , of course no patented way to do a Design, indeed and if there were such a way, I, lest of all, would lay claim to possessing it. But I do think that a consideration of the structure of the Design, of the interplay of part with part, of image with image, and an emphasis upon the way in which ideas are bodied forth and thus qualified as well as defined by the images might furnish a partial corrective to over-weening Outlook on social behaviour at the time and ideological emphases.

Come

Winged fantasies

Come if you must

Angels to Angels

Lust to Lust

My Satan

Xian save me from my dark side for in spite of adversity and torture, I in cold security of undoubted triumph will inflict the most horrible revenge upon my enemy - not from an mistaken notion of bringing him to repent of a perseverence in enemity, but with open and alleged design of exasperating him to deserve new torments.

the Munchkin Case

Mr. Dong the headmaster of the Munchkin Bully Academy was having a very rough day. Knuckles the 9th grader had apparently picked up a duel with Basher in the 11th. Basher Boom was famous throughout the school premises for his masterfully perfected Sling Elbow Lock, and was now happily giving Knuckles a quick lesson of the trick.

Technically, being a senior had its upper edges.

Mr. Dong was an abominable man. He always got what he wanted and if someone dared deny him something Mr. Dong used his persuasive charm. He'd been running the Munchkin school for the past 20 years and never missed a day of assembly. Though, it was whispered in the corridors that he did that just to stay away from the quick- to - temper Mrs. Dong. None the less Mr. Dong ran his school well and taught valuable lessons to up -coming Bullies for college life.

It was against school rules for any display of agression before lunch and had been like that for the past 9 years. The last time being when Mr. Dong had personally relieved Poet Pennyfeet of his duties as Poem Analogy teacher. But, sure headed Knuckles had broken that rule and Bully Basher was only to happy to comply. School policies had it that such an act should be rewarded with a detention wherein, the faulty student would have to practice Table Manners or take a nice Bath.

As it turns out, Basher was a star student and was in league for the up-coming inter- school Bully- pede. A race that I'd rather refrain from mentioning at this point for its highly color-ful ways. ..........................(yawn!!! will complete it later !! :0)

last stand

mercuric stances that please evil vison

thirst for knowledge in vultures

abomination of humans

mystic cults ... merry men

silver corruption

plastic vision...plastic faces

Feigning sleep with sea sharks

darkness undefined

Parasites of global mirth

roman gods... greek nemesis

mystic cults- merry men

lost for need of shine

Reveries of hellish fame

brackish venom in veins

marching in unison

mystic cults- merry men

to please mercuric stances that please evil vision

abomination of mankind.

banana peel

i stepped on the banana peel
BANANA PEEL ... BANANA PEEL
i stepped on the banana peel
The banana peel AWSUM

i stepped on the banana peel
BANANA PEEL ... BANANA PEEL
i stepped on the banana peel
Mighty bump on my BUM ...... :0

The Dodger

In the couse of our lives we come across many people. Some whose characters we never forget. They become a part of us and we like to think of them on some evenings when our hands are empty and minds loose. Of the many bright n shallow characters I admire the ARTFUL DODGER has a special place.
Dicken's places him in vivid light.
He was short for his age: with rather bow-legs, and little, sharp, ugly eyes. His hat was stuck on the top of his head so lightly, that it threatened to fall off every moment--and would have done so, very often, if the wearer had not had a knack of every now and then giving his head a sudden twitch, which brought it back to its old place again. He wore a man's coat, which reached nearly to his heels.

He leaves just about nothing to imagination. . He Exists.
The Dodger lives because he's chosen his ways. In the environment Dickens puts him in, the dodger has to blend in like a reptile. One honest act and the scarce supply of bread becomes even scarcer. Patronising with him is pretty hard after he leads poor Oliver astray. But, then its Oliver's story.
I often wonder how'd it be if things were written from his point of view. Under the guidence of Fagin, he'd have wasted away. A genius led astray.
Ah! I hate saying Fagin's name.... He's one of those evil Shadows that cast gloom from a distance. Fagin's s torments me. Evil at its Best .
The Dodger, is punished in the end but sill is a man with pride. He lives on even today ... on those special evenings or over the occasional smoke .

promulgations

We believe that we speak what we are. The truth is that we are what we speak; we are the illusions created with the words we choose to use. When scriptures are written it is not the idea that guides us but , the words that convet those ideas. the idea of reading something is a conversation with the words, where the reader chooses to listen at will.Listening at will means we allow the words to guide us through the conversation.

I did not know that then, but it is a profound mistake to believe that we must know of such things to be influenced by them, and in fact to believe so is to believe in the most trifle of things.

Rational people consult books rather then be swayed in its philosophies. The scriptures that we follow is a stream of words that have been countlesly played with by the ones who chose to define them. The truth is in the words and the illusion lies at the hands of the ones who choose to interpret them .

morphean

to save the mundane fantasies that swirl in his head , Morphean, keeps his dreams close. Contours of calcium that want to break free from the stretched skin. Hollow sockets ... Blank fazes.
Morphean.... Flyer on the highest clouds... surfer of the silver seas. Cloaked in reasons of incoherent flashes, he smiles the bland smile. For smiles are not for the others that watch, they stem from his guts... reach his lips.. die down... Morphean is happy.. why does he need to show it .
The one with all the answers... Morphean ... OUR NEEDLE KING !!

reason

 

who sets the paths that we follow

who has the guiding flame

what if the leader fumbles

do we still follow trail??

what if the advices are hollow

what if my life is plain

do i listen to voices

or do what i think is sane ....