Slinging scribbles

Time that is spent is time we utilize, It may be futile, it may be vain, But, nevertheless, its time we spend, How can you, me or anybody judge its utility, For every universe works in tandem with the energy created in time. P.S. Every word might not have its individual virtue, But a poem may lose its froth if it were not for the word.

In search of the fertile spot, We live, we leave, In search for the best, we bear, we pair, In search of the art, we stray, we create, In search of freedom, we run, we surge ahead. In search of Oasis, For the water that knew neither dirt nor salt, For the destiny that turns gold, For memories that never are cold, all good no flaws. Such superficial spot, Such high privilege ambitions, Such a demanding pleasure, Such a life is nothing but a lie. But, such is such, Its all within us. We must walk, taking the good and the old, Old but never bad. Life is nothing but full of life, If we shall sway, see love for life, living-beings and sway, But for all and none for us, For life is such where when eyes meet eyes, smiles must meet smiles, lives must meet lives. Two hearts must share one. This is indeed life.

'My government is largely of the rich, by the richer for the richest.' 

Its been a long time since  my scribes have taken a shape of anything more than poems. I have always found poems easier. You can say a lot without being less sure about your grammar. But, its good to write something else, too.   I just had a screening of 'Head-on' at home. Well, the thought of screening makes you feel so elite and niche! Anyways, a brilliant plot about two lives responsible for none and their journey to nowhere. I have always adored such movies. That's the reality! We remain so inconsequential in spite of the ordeals we go through with our loved ones. There is that one moment that we have bravely promised regardless of the tribulations and next is a sordid tale of time washing away those just like any other reveries.  Move on...Mooooo like a cow  or meow like a cat,  move on you ‘mate’,  for there is no change,  until you learn to be swift. And Carry your tale! Forward I mean, Backward and y...

A few days before I complete another year and claim my maturity, I wonder if I have gained or really lost anything? Of all the gains, I find none of significance, Of all the losses, there is one of regret, just significant, To have lost the sheen of innocence, raped of its beauty, perverted by age and society. Lost in time, lost; devoid of a rhyme. Where do we find it? In a wet bed, wet for various reasons, in a woman's lap, women for various reasons, In my dreams, wild dreams for various reasons, for ever yearned love, love for various reasons. There is nothing special for each is experienced, In an effort to run and gain, Haste proved such a waste. Love! You treacherous wicked sport! You claim innocence and yet play to win it! Photo credits:  http://www.joytime.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/loss.jpg All our lives we run for you, Act like scoundrels to find worthy for your support, Yet to belittle us, stamp and walk over, why, you loser! By the luminous...

My will is beyond anyone's reach, even beyond mine; My hopes are scattered in the oblivion, offering unsolicited sleep. As I hear the melancholic mogwai, I am thrust into a space of trance. I surrender my soul, dance at no fright, Happy at the journey that has been made, Traversing several roads, waters and persons in the process, We either talk about past, present or future but a question simmers, Is there anything apart from this time? Is there? That sets everything apart or remains a confluence of three? There is, a point where all three are one and that one a subset of all three. That is my will. The will to bring all three into one, to believe that I can make that happen. That will will not surrender and will encourage me to break walls of weaknesses.

Sleep : A pure illusion of reality that focuses on dreams being true and helps them realise in a stationary state. Sex :  The moment you cum, the moment you cherish the most, the very moment you regret for fantasizing familiar bodies to unleash the white blood of desire. Books : An object of manipulated imagination that tells your favourite tale as it progresses. Parents : Attachment by default and byfar, the most trusted souls that nature unselfishly gifts to most. Religion : A way of life, a path to enlightenment, the medium of money, deity loving sport. God : belief, faith, illusion, manifestation of hope, a science yet to be explored. Friends : An acquaintance, soulmate, time-giver, a will to share journey. Lover : a figment of imagination that drives your mind to insanity with each passing prospective lover. Reality : Present, what I do now.Listening to songs, penning down careless thoughts, whispers of introspection, a travelogue of days without actually tr...