What i feel, think and imagine, I spell!
Friday, December 21, 2012
rant.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
the good news and the bad news
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Monday, November 12, 2012
random junk
the bad news is people leave you, the good news is you don't need to hold on to that many
i guess the reason maths is beautiful is because it's a never ending search for symmetry. that's what it is, it shows up as symmetry, it is symmetry and our dim minds are mildly enlightened by it, only to be thwarted in the end by a search for perfect symmetry which is not possible, which is what beauty is - an ongoing search for impossible perfection
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Mother
Mother, take me to the place where the skies kiss the seas. Mother take me to the place where I can drown peacefully in the oceans. Mother take me to the place where no one mocks me for being who I am, no one, me, innocent, peaceful harmless, coward brave I don't know. Mother give me peace, mother give me salvation just at least give me arms and a chest to die into when I've lost into. This cruel world will not leave me, these people will not leave me, they will eat me alive, they'll kill me, worse drown me, maybe ridicule me but worse bend me. I don't want to bend, I wanna win but not as much as I care to be, as much as I care to kiss the sky goodbye at least once as much as I care to brush the leaves at least once as much as I wish to die at least once, with dignity, maybe not as a god, but at least man. Mother, mother, ... mother!
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Blue flowers which shine like stars under the night sky
I could say more but what do I say, ur skin on ur bedspread under the night sky is calling out to ur surroundings like a tiny whisper to the air which provides the fragrance. I could hurl out but what's the point the little blue stars under the tree are already gathering around you. I could smell in futility but u would never be able to reach the eyes of the urchin that can see the dust flail and glow about u. The illiterate could never understand beauty anyway how would he see the perfume in the weather about u. How stricken he would be by the pain in every drop of the moment about u that could only entwine and die out in spaces around u. How would he see the presence around u, how would he feel the presence around u, how would he be the presence around u. The long traces of black shall meander through the night like meadows floating in the sky and covered as though by the mist and the sky they shall sparkle in the effervescence of the unilateral imagery constrained by the pangs of charred hunger and insatiable greed of beauty. I shall continue to captivated by the essence of freedom as the glory of beauty will continue to chain me. Blessed I am as I am tortured and chained by the lack and trauma of the universe joking on me. The ruby red lips laugh and mock me as I daringly and fearfully sneak a look at them. Gutted through the teeth of the mocking bird, gutted through the teeth of my enemy, the victor slimy pangs of poison melting my inner mind, every inch of my soul, but why should I look in disbelief as beauty makes a mockery of me
Sunday, February 26, 2012
things or/and people
Saturday, February 18, 2012
hmmm
sometimes i wonder if the people we love have anything to do with how much we love them or how we feel about them. at times, the lines become so blurred, they tend to really feel like an object of desire. why do we love them, because of how we feel about them, or because how they make us feel, because what side of us they bring out. what are we really in love with, them or us. im not sure momentarily if its them, it seems in this moment that we just really love ourselves, they are the instrument, the carriers, the missing connection to ourselves. we cant really feel ourselves unless we love, cant really feed ourselves that craving, that hunger inside of us, the need, shameless and naked, brown and green.
they form the channels
we are the pit and the crater
never ending, never there
sometimes here, and sometimes there
Friday, February 17, 2012
m'lady
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
quotes
never underestimate life. if you think you're fucked and life cannot get any worse, think again.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
fools gold
i don't know whether you belong to nature, or in nature, but when i look at you, i see nature itself. in you i see nothing but every single element that makes it up. you're not just human, you're more. you're the earth building a structure, mud by mud pore by pore, you're the wind sailing through the structure, you're the water soothing the structure, you're the fire that burns within. you're the nightbringer, the shadow, the shade. you're the morning start, fresh breath and wings. you're everywhere, you can disintegrate, merge, rise.
you don't need a room, a house
the forests were made for you
the lake your bath
the moonlight the mood lighting
only the palms betray your true form
your true origins
human is just a shape, and
as you walk along the sunset
only i shall know what besets your shadow
--
because only i can see it, only i have the eyes
and in that you're mine, in that you're my slave
you may be my muse and my goddess
but in that you're my slave
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
remembering fatimah
she walked in wrapped in white and blue
with an innocent grin on her face
jesting, naughty, free and smart
she easily lit up the place
her smile, her easiness was of natural fibre
acting wasn't about acting at all
she walked with a book of leaves prised to her chest
there was such life within
then she came one night, hurried in fashion
a shawl wrapped around her
with hair falling and never ending
and eyes twinkling through and through
there she stood slim on toes
with the backdrop of the night
the night cowered behind
her fairy had landed
as we sat together and talked
her hair touched my face
it was as if we'd known each other
laughing over and over by the parking lot
it was to be cut short
the day she came to me in her salwar
we spend the day stealing glances at each other
with the rest of the world uproar
time has a funny way of playing
and began another adventure
she became the master
and me the hungry pastor
she wore a lot other pretty things
but the prettiest she wore was her hair
the beads, the simple cotton fabric, the torn jeans
were mere appendages to garment
that flowed like the night river
that river celebrated everytime
we shared the night sky and moonlight
we spend many a time fumbling and fondling
there were those times
she was wrapped like a mafia at midnight
there were those times
we stayed up talking all night
we shared dreams, aspirations and visions
we shared hopes, ideas and our bodies
we also shared our souls and existence
we shared everything we had and
we shared everything we could offer
there were times when she wore yellow
there were times when she wore orange
there were times when we talked for hours
with her sitting by the window sill
we comforted and motivated
we cheered as a team
we made jokes and were naughty
we walked, drove and rode
we felt elation together
we hid together and
we admired together
we resented together
as i look back upon those moments, i realize
the best way to know what attracted you
is to remember a memory
only the thing that attracted you will be there
and the rest will be a haze
and you're flooded all over the place
we began a journey
i didn't know i could feel this way
i guess i didn't know to love
and i guess you were on your search for it
we still haven't found
but i hope you do
i really do
both love and and peace
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
god knows!
i often wonder, why i'm a little atypical when i'm with you. it must be a good thing, who wants to be typical anyway. but it's more than that. when we are close, sitting together, lying together, hands close enough to make the hair strands prick, palm close enough to brush over your face, fingers streaming through your hair, i become more. i am not just pulkit anymore. i am not sure what i am, whether i am not myself, more myself, another side of myself, or perhaps more correctly both of us, but i am sure i am not just pulkit anymore
call it an orgasmic high, cosmic high, whatever, but there is a certain rush that plays through the body, pore by pore, stem by stem, that changes things, makes me lose myself in the moment. my brain melts and all my senses become more accentuated than ever. every syllable of your name begins a different note of music, there is so much stillness you wouldn't miss the dust dropping on the floor. the touch of the earthen hands transport me, make me feel i'm still connected to the mud below, part of the earth; we are like two pounds of clay grown out of the earth melting into each other. if we were but trees, your hair would've provided shade to entire forest that was us, they would've brushed my face like the leaves dancing in a wind.
and then the time would come for one of us to leave and shatter the beautiful image, only to be rebuilt again the next time
--
future cannot be predicted, it can only be made
Friday, January 06, 2012
creature
you know i never looked at you as just a human, it seemed too limiting, i always looked at you as more, a human, a bird, a fish, a winged beast, an animal, more importantly a creature. at times when we lay together i could feel myself as an animal, feel both of us were animals, wild boars lost in the greenery basking in the centre of a grove as the moonlight bathed upon our naked bodies. only i guess it was more often the evening daylight. you were too beautiful to be just human, the clothes were just a macabre to blend in. you could've been a unicorn i guess, if they ever existed, or who knows, they may have been invented just to match a feeble description that pails infront of you. but those legs belonged to a creature of land and sea and air.
when i looked at you walk, sometimes you felt like "a painting that walks". human was too limiting a word. it was too graceful, it had to be a canvas, it had to be that a painting had come to life; a painting not limited by the strokes of men, not even by my imagination. a painting had come to life. as you stayed still, i could see a sculpture, a beautiful sculpture that never moved, that wasn't saying too much now, just had a funny smile etched on its face. this smile had jest, hunger, faith, naughtiness, it was menacing and calm at the same time. it had the momentariliness and was everlasting at the same time. it was there and elsewhere at the same time. it was a sculpture at that moment, it didn't say too much, but it had so much to be said until the veil broke.
--
you have to look at the girl everytime like its the last time cos you never know when it is gonna be the last time, and there's gonna be a last time, and when its the last time youre gonna hate yourself for ever for not looking at her the last time like it was the last time