Asymmetric

All be it limited,i follow the sand wherever it goes.I'm a dying wave of bleeding limbs flowing in
from the cloud coated feet of the sky.My hands can only feel human heads,some of them with notoriously blowing peevishly warm air into my trousers.I would stand up and zip myself but the moon is a moth journeying between holes,to me they meet between my legs.A cluster of trees turned inside out have knives sticking out of them,their backs pounded with a lot more than just empty shells,lucky they are.

 I'm a miser i must admit.So all i do in situations like these is hold my head between my knees and pull the shovel on every instinct that may surface from beneath my feet.I'm a ballerina bouncing over the dead with a sense of mortality climbing up my legs.To me that is how art should be.The hand may rise exhuming bits and pieces of creation,but what follows is the wait to settle.That itself can spell doom,although doom is spelled in a fairly straightforward way.I'm nobody to judge,atleast nothing other than the thoughts of the head hanging between my legs,not mine.

Sanctity of the machine

The terrible outcomes
  we wear,
 Reddened only for
   their lack of
     reason
     and
the blood we spit
 into our own machines

Sacred, yet spoken

The whole scribbling matter,I had nothing more to say to myself than i had to say to her.That in itself was more disappointing than the beguiling truth behind the withdrawal she led me into.A point between the recent past and today was where our defences should have met in argument.But we had thoroughly been at work,destroying each other's lives and unknowingly making it look simpler by the day.It is hard to accept diligence on part of another person when you are under the impression of being under an impression.What remained ineffaceably constant was the natural winding down of the clock everyday,down to the moment where the kiss goodnight could only leave us for saving.It was quite like holding that empty bottle jar quietly over a ledge in the quiet of the night,waiting for it to not fill with your own personal cause.

Sticks

Sticks for birth
  Clobber the
   midpiece
  into sight

Sticks for childhood
   also find the sun
 making an attempt
  to eat the other half
 
Sticks for youth
   In custody
  of the parantheses
 
Sticks for middle age
might as well
  try to
   climb them
 
Sticks for old age
   a bend in the back
     nearly epitomizes
   their existence
    within a hapless moment

Sticks for death
  A greased leg
    that won't burn
   because it rained
even though everyone cared

Sticks for the time being
  Your brain withstanding,
    we can recollect
life as something totally
     different

Past the Sanctum

From when it is mundanely cloudy,
  that long pause
of the balcony
   clinging all by itself
to the murmur
   of the passing wind...

       underlying
  concoctions to which
    my ears
 are as rhetorically irrelevant
   as licked spoons
 
   i stagger irretrievably
past,the usual
  scrimmage,about
 the infinitely heightening
     pleasures of
  watching the neighbour
   lady milk her tits...

Naught lessons for outerspace

 1
 for two hours,
  i sat staring through
the glass doors of the trains

 at people i had begun to believe had something
     to say to me,all of them
it was on their faces

   the tired expressions
 of having to ask

2
They seem disobedient
   to the principles of precint
little spaceless wonders
   where colossal mishaps
come wrapped in your own gum
  sticking to your shoe

3
"I've already asked three people"
she said to me,i wasn't even listening
but somehow i was accounted for among the three
I pointed her in the direction where she ought to have been going..
"You will never get over losing me",she stamped her message firmly across
as i took it on the chest as part of an emotional slide,
but really i was just glad i was going in the opposite direction today

4
By evening
   my study of her
  a conjecture she would agree upon


5 The Rajendra Place metro station(2010)

The beaded numbers illuminated
as announcements overlapped,
   stinging the ears unless three became one

 i felt my weight drop to the ground
as people gathered around
  a man in a wheelchair

Deposits

On a surprisingly warm sunny evening it rained cotton plugs around my ears

Philosophy is just a one eyed observer trying to guess what the other eye would see

I have imaginary wives whose imaginary friends imagine me differently

Are the stars,the moon a consolation for the earth hanging hopelessly alive in this universe..??

Never really trusted wise men,too many madmen owe them their business

A mirror reflects both ways,almost as accurately as a broken relationship

Consider the ambiance inside a train station as genetically driving your character and now consider it to be the truth.

By and by the number of things you wish for decreases.That is mathematically correct

Perhaps all birds migrate owing to disbelief.They return because we think they have choices

If the universe is one family,then nearly all the dead stars and planets will eventually come home to feast

Always remember, the underdog serviced your opinion

Every answer to any question is just a fact having given up on its legs

The significance of a crime is often valuated on the punishment,so is it merely an offering ?

A murderer most definitely has greater appreciation for his tools than he has for the victim

We lose most battles on the way back home

An argument has most certainly eluded to the smarter man

In a way ideas are brain sized explosions

The streets at 4 am in the morning is as close as we come to depriving ourselves of ourselves..

Did the first magic trick ever have an audience?

Atomicity in thought can be achieved by simply staring at a rock

Life most often can turn out to be an unfulfilling exercise for filling gaps

A slow unlearning of everything we wish to forget is a rare possibility

Defects in a judgement can only be identified once passed

It is the reticent attitude that never goes unnoticed

Accidents are sequential,they have to be

Talking about accidents.i'm losing more hair day by day

A whisper multiplied with itself can sound like utter nonsense..A scream however is the next closest thing to getting applauded for..

Talent is inborn,so are suicidal tendencies

The light bulb is probably the original daybreak-ing idea

On a cold winter evening,it seems the clouds gather outside my window looking for a shoulder

A lovelorn poet surely wants to be known as one

You can allegorize anything that a group of people are prepared to believe

Fantasies are hedonistic parables that ignore the trivial

Men are slaves to speech,the reason why kings master it

The most common sight is a curve

We are surely in the middle of our evolutionary cycle at all times,for it is impossible to collectively
go backwards or forward....