hourglass.

Posted by ronrage9 | Posted in | Posted on 12:00 AM

2

Am silk
I flow within and without
Your control
With each grain
The blow is growing
Outgrowing
Your will
To command
The fourth dimension of space
To fight your sorrows
To bring peace
To the pulses in your heart and head
Am growing away from
Your grasp
On the moist mist and matter
Fragile
You are, am not
Yet you believe otherwise
Every second another inch
Tick followed tack followed tick followed tack!
Am venting
Am all over your dreams
Your breath! your pulses!
My prowess battle
Your gains! Your losses!
Here’s to your myths
Here’s to your wait
For the ‘perfect’ ode

submerge

Posted by ronrage9 | Posted in | Posted on 10:29 PM

0


Am tramping
Whistling
Not sounds of sorrow
Not tunes of despair!

Am putting in the whole essence within the bounds of my skin, giving my everything, trying to elevate. Deviate. From the subtleties of humanely traditions and rituals of allying with expressions of good or bad, relative to time and sand, relative to breaths and brains. Cold. Very cold. The polarity of hearts goes above and beyond anything and everything that is parallel to a human jet in this region. I should have migrated here a long time ago, may be even before the concept of time was shaping into existence for us. This is not moksha, not to be fooled my friend, for that is yet another mundane epilogue to some wise-crack’s hypothetically generated ‘true’ story. Why live by gold, when you can grow cold? Be impervious to the concepts of dark and light, of grey and black, of being able to fall trapped in the massive numbers and equations of calculations our forefathers devised for us. Their agendas were of different substance, for mud meant not mud but platter of life.

Am on a searching spree. I will trade, raid, outrage! To look for a new race. I am hardly bothered about the shapes and skin but the source of energy. For I have had enough of the sun, enough from this distance. Colder, definitely colder! That’s where am headed.

wrong blend.

Posted by ronrage9 | Posted in | Posted on 4:40 PM

0

My humble apologies
For I didn’t serve my purpose well
For maybe I sinned
Or maybe did not stand
On a stack of toys
Labelled ‘good enough’
I tried playing by your rules
Trying to get noticed
And be as docile as you probably wished for
Clueless, with a demoralizing drop
Called ‘hope’ falling from my forehead
Why is it that you seem different?
 Every time we breathe the same air
For I thought I knew you well
And then I heard the water droplets in the air
Shout out aloud ‘not really’
This is not remotely what I wished for
For now I know
Things are to run on their pre-laid track
My being, a small part in it
You know about, but not remotely care
This is how the tunes play around here
This is how they sound
For we are a wrong blend perhaps
Of over-riding fortunes
May be for good, for my quest
To the land of land of cold.
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