Monday, June 12, 2006

That Wayward Pond

This evening I walked me down to that wayward haunt:
That strip of brown forest path in an expanse of green.
I talked to myself after a long long lonely time
And fell in love with stars, metaphors, mirages!
Moonspell and the star named after a fairy
Laced skirts, antimony and dangling earrings;
I could have traded my life for this absurd silence
This silence that is the hollowness of my thoughts…

Deathpale and cold---my blue feet seek a release
I spread my arms wide open
And fly away into those very stars!

Sunday, June 04, 2006

A Peace Photograph

what is peace?is it just a myth we talk about to sustain ourselves in this mad rush of life?well, i really dont know n frankly i have almost stopped caring.i've lived too long in the veiled double-edged security of metaphors.but it's true that life's beautiful when we try to relish the present.that's what i'm endeavouring to do,as of now.
m home-in my small,sleepy lil town!well,again home is also a metaphor...a metophor which holds happiee memories for me-folks,my best buddies,my darling dogs,d neat garden i see from my window and a plethora of images from a happy past.everytime i come back here,i still try to relive the innocence,the salad-days!
this evening,i and three other friends went down to our favourite hangout spot again..the place we call our "peace" photograph!this particular place is near the tezpur bridge,when you enter my humble town,the green grass growing luxuriantly as the trees invite the wind to make love to our imagination.the mighty brahmaputra flowing unceasingly beneath these lush wild growth of nature.coleridge must have felt like i do everytime i pass thru this place when he composed,"Methinks, it should have been impossible
Not to love all things in a world so fill'd;
Where the breeze warbles, and the mute still air
Is Music slumbering on her instrument."
standing there,chatting about a year gone by when we were living our lives in our own ways,trying to sort out the chaos in each others' minds,we felt we were always so close to our roots,a notion i have questioned at times.i know that my blog sounds more like a whimsical note on my wayward musings,but than i dont really care.i am happiee today...yes,"happiee" with a "i" and two "ee"s in it.and somehow i feel i neednt think so much about the future or bother too much about the past.what matters is that if i believe that the universe conspires to work things out for you when you have faith,i should start living life on my terms the free spirit i should to be!!
so here's to me and a new beginning.isnt homecoming all about that?when you are tired and jaded,disillusioned and bitter,a glimpse of a place you once called "home" brings out a person within you which you might have refused to assert for long.
i feel nude and i feel free.
thank god for the simple pleasures,yet again...

my dedication for tonight...what else but floyd's "if":-

If I were a swan, I'd be gone.
If I were a train, I'd be late.
And if I were a good man,
I'd talk with you more often than I do.
If I were to sleep, I could dream.
If I were afraid, I could hide.
If I go insane, please don't put your wires in my brain.

If I were the moon, I'd be cool.
If I were a book, I would bend.
If I were a good man, I'd understand the spaces between friends.
If I were alone, I would cry.
And if I were with you, I'd be home and dry.
And if I go insane, will you still let me join in with the game?

If I were a swan, I'd be gone.
If I were a train, I'd be late again.
If I were a good man, I'd talk to you more often than I do.

Friday, June 02, 2006

The Last Night of Tomorrow

The twilight creeps on us
As if a mirage;
The rusty colored night glows amidst the twinkling stars.
I thought I knew who I was
So did u.
But all is lost in the darkest deep of this night.
The ashes of yesterday’s glory blacken my hands
The ambers singe the pupils of my eyes
And we, in our youth, thought it was all a nightmare.

Toxic wind of the black sooty chimneys
Contaminate the ethereal breeze of this night:
Why the deaths, the disillusionment of the living?
I thought the burial ground was sacred
But here I write the saddest poem of this starry night.
The holy books cant rescue us now
Not now, not forever,
Coz our dreams died young and our hopes were stillborn
The blue page was torn from my journal
On such a night.

Tonight is that night we were forewarned of
When the fiery stars all will drop to this earth
Mocking the very edifice of our faith;
There is not enough silence here
Not here in this eerie, dead night
We are the forsaken unborns from the womb
O mother, why have u cast us away?
Why have all the children gone blind?
The virgin nun prays at this blood-smeared altar.

And I believe in tomorrows and the Holy Ghost
Alas! The right time has passed and this isn’t the place to be:

I and my comrades walk on red violets
Beneath the posies, lie the corpses of my forefathers
Why curse the butterfly which caused the thunder
We are to blame for this endlessly stretching night.
The search begins here---from here and now
We are the Jews who survived the camps
And the Promised Land shouldn’t be too far.

Ps-written prob an yr bac…..whn I read it t’day, I don’t like d metaphor in d last 2 lines…seems sumhow a mockery of the whole spirit in d poem!! But m surprised dat I mentioned d “chaos theory” thru d butterfly.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006


1.25hrs by my yahoo radio station is tuned on to classic rock...n no m not stoned nor hi...yet m trippin....
my 1st's finally here...aftr escapin from immediate questions and d mundane life too long...m finally laid bare...nude...alone but not lone!!
i wish i wouldnt have been such a dreamer...dis stupid idealist in quest of utopia!!utopia-d word exists but d republic prob doesnt, prob never did!!it's just us fools who never did stop believin in the magic of life,of the pot of gold @ the end of the rainbow...
dis is my 1st post in my 1st ever blog...written witout ne prep, without pretence n witout any will2 impress n charm!!
let's c how far i will talk2 u down the road....m looking 4ward 2 the conversation down those serpentine,wayward woods which lie sumwhere in the heart of the city.'s about time i started writing...again!
carpe diem!

in liberty,
joplin(the bloggers say i cant use dis as a nick as it's "not available")

keep coming here...n keep throwing d dirt on my that i dont 4get 2 wash up before i face the real life