Friday, March 25, 2011

Delirium

This poem was written 6 years ago. Back then, there's a time when I have generally had done anything to quit writing. But that has become my craft. I have become the most drawn prospect to what I'm consciously trying to avoid with at.. And it's all about discovering more about who it is you want to be. My life, and most probably all of us,  is a poem full of grammatical errors. You may find this poem hard to comprehend but that's why interpreters are needed, not grammarians.



 once there was an eye scorched past close
 some blankness, nights of june’s heaven dwelt
  on a pane losing sight

     ah! curtains folded like paintings of old
nobility brown shoes or orange pile on pile
the sound of cartoons guitar strings
voices of a language they will say reckless
  may bring about such many forms in the twilight:

 thunder in the sky   tremors yesterday @ 3:00 p.m.
                                                    slim bodies fat cute faces all screaming
                                                                    pleasing sweet scent ( no other masterpiece should
come in 10 years ) workers swearing something
                         poets speaking something blurry  oblique to its own
sad news  good things money beclouds mr. t’s mind
           white rose   no more red ones please! visions of a summer

 writings on the wall i’ve been talking to out-of-town guests
                       fireworks display sparkling biographies maria clara comes
to life alluring men steel houses streets at
                              rainy days shopping at a mall  overheard curses
                                                                                             empty tea pots and glasses bearing the brand name "hopeness"
ants in their sleep foreign songs fighting cocks killing each other
broken chairs clean utensils gleaming in the sun
                            it was with some madness it was fun to go up the narrow
           winding stairs internet books positions photos plans for the
rest of your life which can be reached by elevator or stairs

                                       singleness   strands of hair avoiding women  friends
relatives introvert fellow anti-social darkness change
                             sensing joey’s presence having learned lessons at ease take charge
                                                           
rats running bufallo yawning airport stress day dreaming
                                                                              getting focused

                                   once there was an eye scorched past close
                                                     some blankness, but it’s not bad at all to be
                             such so occupied at certain period of one’s life--

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