Thoughts being messed up in the mind made me unanswerable to any.
Do thoughts overblown make us haughty?
I feel like one among the wind blown dry leaves, in a gloomy dark alley.
Where to I’m being carried away?
Am I deprived my own existence?
Does the flying cluster of skylarks have their own existence they search?
A woman in dark blue cloak makes me run, run and make do more of it.
She is my desire.
She is not letting me to sleep, Even though I sleep opening my eyes.
The slipped away luck of mine stares at me helplessly.
The Luck is crying.
I’m sitting lame hoping in the hope.
I see a large plume of smoke slowly covering me.
.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
The Shape of sound.
She went away. She was a colour which I couldn’t name. All my imaginations of being in love suddenly came to its fall. I’d been transformed to an un-living soul who still continued to breathe. I began to see the day in shades of grey. Nothing moved. Everything has been frozen to no amiable reasons. I did change to a being of no emotions. I did start to love the night, for its sounds which were unfamiliar until.
I started to listen to tiniest of sounds which came from unknown directions. Every sound was loomed inside a dark veil unraveling its ethnic shape. “Shape of sound?” Do sounds have shape? “Yeah…, they have”. Have you been able to imagine the shape of small pebbles trembling on been heated above a large tin plate? What did you see (?)when you hear the crickets creek in the night? You’d be able to imagine a thousand different shapes if you start to imagine. No any different is I’m doing night after night.
When darkness spreads its magnificence, it's fiery large-sticky-scratchy wings; I go emotionless, a little less than an unmoving stoic. I lose myself in midway of my dreams, in which I see, I’m the King of little bees in thick tree who were storing honey, making small cubicles, politely adhering to the orders from their Queen. I stare to the Queen who has been severely harsh to her fellowmen, helpless to withstand my gaze spears she ignited herself to ash. I did see the shape of happiness in the cheer of freed honeybees fluttering around me .
One day I could also see the shape of moon’s sound. I was staring to the whimsical radiance; I did see a face inside (not the one you presume to be), I was clueless about who the stranger was. Swaying my visions through the fluttering leaves of cotton-bud tree, I fixed my gaze. I widened my eyes. From no where a dark cloud appeared, slowly it covered the beautiful face to which I was staring. I heard a loud thunder. It started to rain - a thick load for few minutes! Soon the dampened leaves shone back to moons luminance. This day, for me, the shape of moon’s sound was the thunder and its shape was rain. But where did the stranger go? Naïve!
Now I see the shape of my breath which lets me know that I’m no longer alone. What could be its shape? It’s none other than my shadow, the very me; even though I’m not able to see it at night. But I’m happy for it, the sounds and its different shapes. I’m living; I’m discovering the amorous relationship which I’ve been married to, the imagination to see the shape of sounds. Let me live for it until I fall to a new obsession, a little shapeless!
.
I started to listen to tiniest of sounds which came from unknown directions. Every sound was loomed inside a dark veil unraveling its ethnic shape. “Shape of sound?” Do sounds have shape? “Yeah…, they have”. Have you been able to imagine the shape of small pebbles trembling on been heated above a large tin plate? What did you see (?)when you hear the crickets creek in the night? You’d be able to imagine a thousand different shapes if you start to imagine. No any different is I’m doing night after night.
When darkness spreads its magnificence, it's fiery large-sticky-scratchy wings; I go emotionless, a little less than an unmoving stoic. I lose myself in midway of my dreams, in which I see, I’m the King of little bees in thick tree who were storing honey, making small cubicles, politely adhering to the orders from their Queen. I stare to the Queen who has been severely harsh to her fellowmen, helpless to withstand my gaze spears she ignited herself to ash. I did see the shape of happiness in the cheer of freed honeybees fluttering around me .
One day I could also see the shape of moon’s sound. I was staring to the whimsical radiance; I did see a face inside (not the one you presume to be), I was clueless about who the stranger was. Swaying my visions through the fluttering leaves of cotton-bud tree, I fixed my gaze. I widened my eyes. From no where a dark cloud appeared, slowly it covered the beautiful face to which I was staring. I heard a loud thunder. It started to rain - a thick load for few minutes! Soon the dampened leaves shone back to moons luminance. This day, for me, the shape of moon’s sound was the thunder and its shape was rain. But where did the stranger go? Naïve!
Now I see the shape of my breath which lets me know that I’m no longer alone. What could be its shape? It’s none other than my shadow, the very me; even though I’m not able to see it at night. But I’m happy for it, the sounds and its different shapes. I’m living; I’m discovering the amorous relationship which I’ve been married to, the imagination to see the shape of sounds. Let me live for it until I fall to a new obsession, a little shapeless!
.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)