Monthly Archives: August 2013

THE OUTCAST: constipated thoughts of a lonely writer

The lonesome one -totally at peace with himself or numb with loneliness...

The lonesome one -totally at peace with himself or numb with loneliness…

HA! A night without rain again
Leaving me without gain
Outcast thought without pain
As he strolled on the lane

Been ages passing in stages
Living out on life’s fringes
So long it no longer itches
That he can’t always get his wishes

Sun or moon may not shine today
People may stay or stray
Outcast will still sing and pray
Even when it’s Trouble’s day of play

Apparently completely self-satisfied; totally unminding of the world around him and the crazy writer taking his picture.

Apparently completely self-satisfied; totally unminding of the world around him and the crazy writer taking his picture.

Don’t you hiss and hate
He has enough on his plate
You envy his undisturbed state
But don’t see when he’s desperate

Take another look please
See what ruffles his peace
See how he became this
What made him a nutpiece

BACKGROUND: Times I deliberately choose to stroll back from work. This night, I just felt like screaming out and audio-recording my next poem to later find ways of putting the words into writing. I can’t exactly make a song of it because of my scary voice. I found myself talking out loud about this character of my next poem -the Outcast. Need I say passers-by may have thought me mad!

The Outcast doesn’t quite give much care for some of our norms and values. He lives as though he were dead and not part of us. He is somewhat detached from the world we know. We are slightly pissed when he doesn’t show the aggression or passion we expect in some everyday issues. We can’t always expect him to take sides with us. He doesn’t hurt or insult us, and he is mostly calm and composed -maybe a little TOO peaceful/happy, and so we see him as impractical, odd or loose-nutted.

We never realise he has huge issues he is battling with. His concerns for some other thing completely absorb him. His obsession with another life has affected the way he treats this one.

Well then, we do well to call him mad, yes?

As you may have guessed, I didn’t say exactly he was obsessed with because that’s out of my pen, but I know HOW EASY IT IS TO BECOME SOMETHING/ONE ELSE AND YOU ARE NOT EVEN AWARE OF IT!)

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Song of our season together

image

I woke up next to you
Golden sun rays shining from your face
Warm my smile
Your hands all over me
Wantingly, wantonly
As though you didn’t think it was too early for foreplay
Meanwhile it was only my cheeks you touched
Today is gonna be a good day I thought
I could get used to everyday being like this

I am not taking off my smile
The light is warm
The atmosphere is romantic
And music is in the air
Talking with you as you possessively hold my arm
As though you didn’t want me to stray from your side at dinner
Meanwhile we were only strolling to work
I am gonna enjoy work today I thought
I could get used to everyday being like this

I am not taking the bus tonight
I am looking forward to crying
Tears of pure ecstasy on my cheeks
As I let you hold me on the way
After you kidnapped the whole world around me
Leaving me alone with you in this vast space
Where nothing else matters
No abyss no ground no other heartbeat
Except mine…

(Back to reality)
As I cry in the lonely memories of you
For you were long gone from my life
And I can only hope to sleep fitfully tonight
And wake up tomorrow
All in memories of you
Like I did this morning
Whilst lying on my bed ALONE

Tears

Anyone

Please?

S T R U C K ! ! !

English: African Lion and Eland Antelope skele...

English: African Lion and Eland Antelope skeleton diorama to be displayed in the Museum of Osteology. Photo by Jay Villemarette (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So hear
You know I am already a fool
When it comes to you
I stalk you like a haunter
A haunter ill-prepared
To apprehend the victim
So that each time
I come close to you
I am all amped up
Adrenaline pouring through my blood
As I prepare to hop on you
And claim you for myself
But at the climax of my anxiety
I am reminded that
There really is no way to bring it through
This lack makes me burn hotter with sickening desire

For a moment
You look in my direction
Just in time to see me on fire
Oh darn! I reek of burns
I try to run away
But the trail of smoke betrays me wickedly
You try to reach for me
But, again, I think
What will be the end to it
What happens after you catch up to me
Stand and stare me in the face
So I run
Adrenaline oozing through my sweat
A strong pheromone
On someone dreading attention
And you chase me
Why you do I don’t know
But I won’t even dare to ask that
If and when you should catch up with me

I just run
Like a foolish lion
Who faced a horned antelope
To discover late
That he hadn’t grown any tooth or claw!

Simple Ironies -(unedited)

The curse of man

image

The genius does something retarded
And is impressed at his creativity
Like he was bored with being smart every time
And is happy with a new experience

The two lovers feel they are stronger
After fighting and making up
When they promise to never break up
With the inevitability they will sooner or later

The father looks at son
And is awestruck at how protective he feels
Feeling the same awesome way
When he spanks the lad impatiently

The psychologist who visits another psychologist
And sees herself being analysed by the other
Saying things she knows she could have expressed herself
Without being charged per unit time

Oh! What do we really know about even ourselves
The one minute pontificating about power, love and intellect
The next minute acting like spineless, selfish halfwits
Yet feeling grandiose again before the day is over

P.S.: And this bored lazy writer
Reels simple ideas recklessly out
Yet knowing the distinct appeal
Of sensibly organized poetry form

Writing like nothing in his piece
Even remotely refers to his humanity
Claiming the power of the artist is purely imaginative
Yet knowing the power of art is in soul-ish expression