words?

It's more than difficult.
more than choking
more than pretenses and sleepless nights
more than the length of a month and a days few
more than those stones we threw at each other
more than the 'I' s and the 'my' s of the world
not more than that place of salt and broccoli
but more than anything i ever knew

W

dark room
people new
'self' is the thumb rule
conversations be few
rhythm awaits the musician
as the cook heats up the stew

the wandering meet the roving
expectations die as time flies
the red changes into yellow
and then into blue


the unbecoming keep coming
and here i wait for a 'U'

Keep doubling it up.

hey nietzsche, i know a man with a 'why'.

I met a monk with a rainbow umbrella
and saw those wise lines contract
to let lose a tear, in a moment crying to just be

What he cried for was less of an issue than how could he.
I wondered- be human, why can't thee?
"i ll give you your answer " he replied
"but first you ll have to come here and see"
"first my child, you ll have to live for a day
like me. "

UNDO?

i was looking at some fragments of a broken toy
and was tryin to crack jokes to make it smile...
it wouldn't... would it?
could it ever again be,
after what the little child made it into
from what it was meant to be ?

I looked at the broken toy and the sad little child
and said i wish you had not done this to me.

A One Too Many

A dying voice aching to shriek and split
I silenced once again.
Deranged a possibility
to the I M of it
Uprooted Unjustified
Maligned my rags and shreds
Down to each weakening thread
Once again.
I broke with a handful of expectations
Once again.
I dirtied my hand with the cruel repetition
Of saying ill never say it again
Once again I left it unsaid
Only hoping this truly was the last time
Once again.

Death in Life.

That Marquez chapter we drafted,
with mermaids and violins
and the yellow street moonlight.
Studded it with the singing, wild stars
every five pages,
checked, redrafted.
Spun some more magic minutes
and proofread.
It spilled over several books.
and over centuries of faith and smiles.
We rubbed away
the several births of strife.

But let's not publish
please don't let the ink dry
You know that chapter
can kill me forever,
or can make me alive.

Twiched Concoctions

Pigs fly two steps and fall
half limbed beggars roar of joy
the hail and hearty cry
Why not enable the debase, destitute
when the dreams ring of cacophonies
when the thick air stinks of sly.

Lets move the wind and vanish
Let there be darkness, and slur and slime
Let twitched concoctions flourish.