Wet Eyes

Shove all the booze aside,
Today all I want is to get drunk..
On life, the stupid stubborn witch.
She entices with a few moments,
Only to drag me down with tears.
But still like the best of friends,
We meet and crib from time to time.
I reach out for him in the middle of the night,
And then I realise I've forgotten...
His smell, touch, the roughness of his beard.
Only memories of scratches line my cheek.
And the tears that had followed,
But they were kind, they left no mark.
I want to drink on life's mirthless frivolity.
When it takes my breath away, in shock..
And just sometimes, in surprise!
In its stupor, I want to dream.
Of endless tommorows, survival, and existence.
How I exist just by breathing, just by being.
But mostly of my dreams, the soggy ones.
The ones I'd shoved under the carpet.
Like dirty litter, thinking it'd be forgotten.
I want to cut my hands in picking those broken shreds,
And lovingly put them to sleep on my pillow.
Next to my drunken head and wet eyes.


Bamboo Shoots and Flights of fantasies

My aim is to be like the bamboo shoot
So strong in its roots, and so flexible above;
When a Strong wind blows, it bends,
But never breaks.

It gives the strength to wild grass to grow,
Carefree on its roots; around it, enmeshing it.
Little pins and needles seem stuck in my heart;
Bleeding it at inappropriate moments.

The more they push themselves in,
Like a bamboo tree, I shall grow higher;
Reach towards the skies, touch the stars,
WIth stars on each of my fingertips.

I shall see dreams of fairies and love.
Somwhere beyond the horizon,
My dreams will take flight, like birds.
Then this simple rooted thing,
Would have taken flight.
No sudden pangs of heartache,
Will then caress that dream's heart.



She looks on the passing traffic.
The whizz and the busy honking.
People in their normal pursuits,
Going noisily about their business.
She looked at the milieu,
With mildly curious eyes.
Drawing smoke into her lungs,
Closes her eyes against the sun.
Not feeling its warmth, nor the noise.
For one sublime moment...
As the smoke curls inside her.
She keeps her words locked inside,
Too precious to be shared...
Treasured inside, away from sight.
Hey stranger!
Wont you ask her what they are?



I read and see so much that it bleaches my insides,
there is just too much theory and too little soul.
All I want is now lost in the ashes of time.
Grey with ages, floating away like dust,
they crumble on the tips of my fingers,
As I shut the old book with a firm thud.
Only you can hear me through the silence.
In your eyes, I see the reflection of brilliance.
The dipping orange glow of the setting sun,
against your profile, the happy twinkle.

Strange as it seems, I'd find comfort in darkness,
but now you make sunshine so mellow.

And now that I have found you again Happiness,
I promise to never let you go, till death do us part.


A moment, A lullaby.

There is a short moment when I wake up…
When the line between reality and dreams is almost blurred.

There is a short moment of absolute peace…
Before the troubles and long forgotten woes come rushing in.

A minuscule moment of bliss, so sweetly sublime…
Where I feel that alls right with my life, the worlds just fine.

A moment of dreams so real, that I can almost reach out for…
That tiny split-second moment makes me want to go to sleep.