Friday, January 2, 2009

Riddles.




Prologue.

And, yet.
They talk of people, shivering beside the ring,
with liquids in their hand.
I wonder whether any stars will fall today.
My wish is a waste.



I

I know your hideous shadows,
so well,
just like Master Humour knows Twain.

I move with my avant-garde thoughts,
knowing it's difference and progression.
May be that's why the moon seems to be a smirking ghost,
who shrinks as the witch sulks.


II


If you want an epilogue,
go to the masters.
As young men,
do when they die.

If you want some lines,
look at mercury lapped objects.
The astrologers will explain the riddles on your fore head,
later.

If you die thinking,
you were never rich.
If you die dreaming,
you were rich.
And,
be both if you die trying.

III


I created poems.
out of the wind and out of deadly alleys.
I create fire,
out of the poems I create in my smoke filled nude thoughts.

Today,
I lose my voice with the fall of her strand.

Neruda's lines,
seem happier at such times.

Today at college,
I saw the cloth swimming over National Instruments.
I wonder again if it was ever done in remembrance.

Today,
my vote goes down too.
I try to get it out of the never to change,
another idiot box.

Twist and twist,
dig and dig,
for I always confuse it with R.

This,
still isn't a politically motivated
poem.
It's illusion.

I created this out of the wind and the black fire.



IV

I sang a song to my self,
long back.
I saw her in the song.

After few days,
I won't be there.
She'll be off to Isles.

I hope the song would still burn then.
May, the music never bid a farewell to you.

Compassion.

V

Today,
I saw the old lady coming again,
asking for money.
His son was admitted in the ICU for the past one year.
Since when did doctors become so kind?

Today,
I had a dream.
(Although I'm no King)
I was sleeping among visions.

You may call this conglomeration.
It's not.
Lust, it is

Let's create and recreate,
edited memories.
Let us enter into a virtual world of realities.

They do not claim to write the saddest lines tonight,
or be as timeless as the Natore girl.
They are just off springs of magic,
who rise from the embers.

VI

This is disorientation,
the wind is stale and the fire is out.

Today,
she lost my guitar.
The tune is no more.



Epilogue

Visions are not a man's choice,
they are of his mind's.

Neo-logistics do not rule,
if you see well.

I see wind and black fire.

20 comments:

Sambit said...

a good thing.
you take time to write your pieces.
goes to show how much you put into each of them.

*If you die thinking,
you were never rich.
If you die dreaming,
you were rich.
And,
be both if you die trying.*

very very nice.

Debs said...

Yes, thank you.

But, I do not really take much time for writing some thing. It's just that I write things in large time gaps, and at times within a short while. It's just that.

Deeptesh said...

Good 2 read a poem of yours after a long time gap.I liked the structural concept of prologue body and epilogue. weird though I wrote one in the same fashion a few days back though I didn't blog it. And at times,your poem explores the depth of ur thinking.
Do come 2 my blog as well. It's been ages!!!

MAHI said...

commendable!!

Debs said...

@ Deeptesh

I does not have a body in the first place. That, was the whole idea.

@Mahi
Thank You! :)

Debs said...

*it

senjuti.. said...

you are a poet,
you deserve better than a comment :)
who are we to judge?
write if you need to write..
if you can't help but write..
write out of desperation and not fashion..write to breathe.
i'll read because i live on poetry :|

Debs said...

@Senjuti

I write for 'just like that'.

senjuti.. said...

that's so dali.

Amri_Moo said...

'disoriented' and 'unsettled'

happy? :)

Debs said...

@Senjuti

Joy Salvadore

@Amrita

Wasn't that an expected comment? :P

Niits said...

A very apt name for the piece.. innovative surely and disturbing..as always. :-|

Debs said...

"as always"

:|

Doubletake, Doublethink. said...

finally magritte, after all that dali :D

Debs said...

Dali still remains my favourite Surrealist! :P

Inam said...

I loved it where the romance blends with the darkness... "mixing memory and desire" ... deadly alleys and fire are what the poet needs, and you've got it.

Debs said...

Thank you, poet! :)

kheya said...

After few days,
I won't be there.
She'll be off to Isles.

I hope the song would still burn then.
May, the music never bid a farewell to you.

.......................
The poem does a lot to the senses and it may be on a very personal note that i feel the poem is very true,real and naked in its thoughts...
You keep up the good work!

Debs said...

@ Kheya

Yes, I'm glad you put it that way.
Nude in a sense, it brings the skeletal remains of it all.

Xiamaze said...

"Prologue.

And, yet.
They talk of people, shivering beside the ring,
with liquids in their hand.
I wonder whether any stars will fall today.
My wish is a waste."

marriage.
wishes.
very nice.
long and thought provoking especially the beginning and the end.