eject, play back

with stares and glares,
a meaningless smile.

so undeserving,
is that why you possess it all?
with silver trays and red wood tables,
an overflowing goblet,
enraged ruby flame.

glass shattered,
clarity no more,
elaborate puzzle pieces,
an ageless process.

like an egg in water,
abandoned with care,
is how perception floats,
hopelessly outnumbered.

four walls,
and yet no ground to stand on,
grab for the ceiling,
cause gravity hates you.

'you can break the human spirit,
but that's as far as you can go,
and no, that isn't enough,
cause we have something stronger.'

better days

bed of ash,
murky lake.

is still air so hard to take in?
need Eastern winds blow? so directionless.
bring up the ashes and distribute it among the trees.
the roots will heal in time,
as the bark just darkens, let it be a shelter,
let the roots dig deep again to find water.

a primeval forest,
fires come and go,
centuries withstanding,
expanding and growing,
burnt bark sheds off,
to grow ring after ring.

sunlight through the mosaic,
such a welcoming sight,
filtered out with distance,
till no shadows can be observed.

life is like a shirt,
starts of so new, untainted ,colour intact.
then comes the occasional spills,
with every wash cycle, it cleans.
the tendency of that shirt getting that type of spill again lessens,
if spillage continues, it wont be worn outside as often anymore,
eventually the shirt gets worn out,
colour fades, threads come undone, an unsewed patch by age,
reduced to wiping stains, and then discarded.

'make me a happy ending,
the recipe is by trial and error,
to suit an individual's dainty taste,
so you better get started'

stranger

its funny,
how often do you have those close to heart in thought,
and then have that 'i'm not remembered, not bothered by them'
'i'm a short term comfort, a convenient friend'.
but aren't we all similar?
so won't we all think we aren't remembered by those who remember us most?
to think that you are one day here and the next day gone,
is to have absolutely no self worth,
you aren't thin air, even air is remembered.
expression determines,
but how often do we show it all, or even half of it?
how often do we show someone's importance in our life?
to let his face shine more through appreciation.
an empty 'thanks'?
what difference would that make us as compared to those who have no conscience?
its always a trial and error thing.
so you have no idea, just take a simple step,
how hard is it to get up once you fall,
especially if its done for someone so dearly held.
we ask when we say we wont,
and deny the whole package when the blame comes,
people wonder why everything is so fragile,
we contributed to each crack, so fix it.

done backstage,
to be viewed through curtains,
to listen to the applause given,
rose petals, satisfied expressions,
leave through the backdoor.

where can you not find a silver lining?

like dust in the wind...

nothing stays permanent in this world,
not even our sorrows...
embrace the bitterness,
isn't it just lovely?
cause its so hard to hold onto pain,
it fades off so soon,
when that lighter ignites,
all goes smoothly, all with smiles.

no one

works unpublished are what you treasure the most,
make public your insecurities, your pains and hurt,
you become a target to yourself.
anger at another unleashed,
a safe zone of a screen,
real mature.
walk along that river of ice,
you ignore whats below,
you just let that catch get away.

Déjà vécu

the cycle needs recycling,
take the extra shards of broken glass out,
fill it with papers and tin cans,
empty plastic bottles are of no worth,
keep adding unnecessarily and see
the unfinished product.
i know, you know, we all know.
fractured, torn and broken,
its like committing suicide,
and its amazing what broken glass can do to a person,
or at least make obvious.

but people still favor the recycled,
useful or not.

i say, throw away the newly made rubbish.

crushed nuts

when the house was left in shambles,
were we to take a broom to sweep away the debris?
were we to call for hired help?
but only we knew each corner of the house...

for every tear a lesson learned,
for every bit of nonsense a lesson unlearned.

our habits, our trademarks.
why are we marked for them?
a large, bright red bulls eye,
shall i paint one on you?

just cause the water is flowing downstream,
does not mean the fishes are not swimming upstream.

every little bit scrutinized,
but hey, its just human,
so i will just balance that out by sleeping,
you'll still be awake when i wake up anyway.

the penny thinks why is it on the street and not in some guy's wallet,
the wallet thinks, pennies smell.

where did all the hollow watermelons come from?
should have ordered the apples.