Tag Archives: insanity

Thoughts Of The Constipated Writer

image

(Source: online)

Aha! Come now one and all
You simple-minded children of mine
Its evening time and your father is high
Come hear his constipated thoughts

 
/Intermission…
No! I am not playing on words
Yes! I am an unceremonious teetotaller
And these ain’t inane rants
Of a drunk old hungrily grunting fool/

 
Of the unwise poet who prepared a meal
In the pot of ikain* soup
Does he think artistic wisdom is to be found
In the potpourri of fascinating words and ideas

He pulls his shit together
As he enters creativity’s toilet
His eyes look ahead
Staring
Hard
Unblinking
Like an obstipated mad cow
And proceeds to desecrate the arena

He now holds his head empty of words
Relieved of the mangled mass
Now flowing out on the screen for all to eat
He can’t do any wrong
His eyes now calm and dreamy
Like he is seeing a vision

(come away in your thoughts with me for a mo, please…)-
That brief moment that happens on the best and worst of us
When we peek into the supernatural
Into something too awesome to be earthly
That brief moment of clarity
So brief we soon forget it amidst the many years we live
So clear our warped mind soon denies it
Because we are used to drinking muddy tadpole-infested waters
And have grown oddly morbidly fat feeding on poo
Grown too tough for simple truths and pleasures of life
Grown too twisted to swallow anything straight
And create something truly beautiful in return
-(and back to the silly story…)

Ah! But he is the lucky one tonight
He holds his head empty of words
He is ready to believe now
He will accept any answers now
This poet will even write mathematical formulae
And pass them for artistic inspiration
Anything would do

Just pray he doesn’t fall asleep
Before making sense of all the mess he has created
In the name of art
In the name of finding an answer to life
In the name of art.

image

(Source: online)
 
*ikain soup /i: Ikain/- a local delicacy prepared amongst the tribe of Earthdwellers consisting of Immense-Knowledge-About-Immense-Nothingness.

 
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BACKGROUND: Someone has said that it is very logical for an artist to admit to the unseen as he considers the artistic process –of birthing a genuine work of art. Sometimes I find me looking for some inspiration from the outside world around me (only to see the world has not learnt any new lessons since the last time I wrote about it). Then, I leisurely finger through the pages of my current life experiences for something that might jump at me (only to realize they are too confusing for even me to make any sense of them to readers), before I try piecing together highlights of my past for a way to coin a story (just to conclude on how stale the little interesting parts are). Then I scour my beliefs and views regarding life in general for a quick lesson (and end up reasonably agreeing with others they are too controversial –for me to spit out for anyone looking for an easy read). Soon, I am desperately clubbing through everywhere for just anything to write, because my fingers are becoming very itchy. But sometimes, without warning, I suddenly start feeling almost feverish and words I cannot quite hear start pouring through my head. That moment, I know I have to write something, anything. And I write. And the words form. This piece is a mild acknowledgement of the process of attempting to create something sensible from a mess of ideas in one’s human mind.

P.S. If you are still confused –understandably –might I suggest you regard the father, the unwise poet and the author as one and same person.

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Rainy Life’s Seasons

crazy man in the rain...

crazy man in the rain…

Sneaky winds jump around the sky
With joyous malicious whistles
Dark clouds gather together
In sadistic congregation.

/Intermission/
No! This is not just another rainy day
Another bland nature poem
Nor a hifalutin attempt at shameless self-aggrandizement
By a writer with inferiority complex

Carry me out dear nutty wife
Lovingly throw me into the open
I love liberating feels of breezes
But just a shell-y man scared to get out

The feverish anticipation
Of what weather holds today
Makes my body shake ecstatically
Like it happened last night

One by one
I lose my selves
My anxious personality
My prim obsessive-compulsive

The showers start
I look behind the clouds high up
Asking, daring the Creator-God
To do better than just showers

Ha! But I know
He can do more
I tell him I can handle his worst blessings
Tell him to come out from behind clouds

Then

From around the corner
The flood pours out
Across my village cottage
On a hillside

I throw away my cane
Bloody old man that I am
Take a gladiator stance
Look the blessed flood in the face

Flood hits me in the beard
Creator stifles a snigger
Flood sweeps me off my foot
I start to drown, laughing

Shame on me!
For all my boasting
Steee-rike one n’ I’m out!
Sliding down the hillside

A shameless old man
One-legged, dancing
Drenched in happiness
In a flood of rain

Screaming out a holy swearword
“God will be the death of me!
Hee-hee-haw-haw-haw!!!
Hahaa-hahahaha!!!”

BACKGROUND: I am probably one of the few species of men *eyes rolling* who show genuine appreciation for many different seasons (though I favour a burning sun least of all). The rains are officially starting in my part of the world and I never tire of how refreshed and invigorating it makes me feel.

the rain's awe...
the rain’s awe…

This evening, it brings to mind the many ways I play with the Unseen. As true as it is that science has explanations for many things, it does not make a case in court AGAINST the unseen and non-material wonders that exist here. The two sides can coexist. Forget for a moment the [visible] people that misrepresent the invisible.
I remember past happy seasons of my life… from the shocking big blessings… to simple pleasures like raining showers on my skin. And I am making new happy memories. In the midst of many difficulties faithfully stalking my daily life like psychopaths.
The Creator has got His ways!