Caravan of a Nomad

Anarchist : I shall continue in the same post rather than adding another one. This is one of the product of what I was reading . A set of political ideologies , out of which Anarchism was one.Although , this one goes a little beyond propagating a belief. It's just an attempt to read the mind of an outlaw , on the brink of a crime in the eyes of the state but what to him is a revolution.

Outcome of Mundanity :I had given up on writing as such . Not been doing it for so long . Yesterday I did tried to pen down something of worth . Tried for at least two hours . Deleted at least two poems , which I wrote and didn't like . Then I left it and went to sleep. But I could hardly sleep . As I stared out of Window , some thoughts came which made me want to write again . Though I didn't like the outcome as there was so much in my mind to be covered in one piece of poem . It came out as a rather jumbled up integration of random thoughts. But since it was after a long time , that I could write something that made sense , I decided to to put that in my blog .


Anarchist .

Swift as a horse on the racecourse ,

Keen as a dog , on a trail .

He was moving with hasty steps ,

The movement he believes mustn’t fail.

He has been waiting all these years,

His heart is pounding but he stays strong .

The cold winter is unleashing a chill ,

But the thrill in his heart is making him sweat.

The time has come when the lesson be learned ,

The server has served , and has served enough.

The revolution is knocking on the door ,

Retribution is a word that must be heard.

He has suffered and since wore the hatred,

the hate that cripple his once righteous soul.

The hunger and cold has made him rough ,

Weak have died , he has been told.

He doesn’t believe in the rule of the law ,

As laws were made by the people with flaw .

He believes in his right to follow his heart ,

The moment has arrived to put it to test.

He doesn’t believe in the word of god ,

His god had died a slow silent death .

If he can watch children die of hunger,

He says such a god , is more of a wretch.

He doesn’t believe in Left or right ,

The lust to rule consumes them all .

The rule of the people is never in sight ,

To rule out the rule is his taken vow.

He has arrived , where the stage was set ,

With people having gathered , to listen to his foe.

Sun has been hiding behind the clouds ,

As if afraid to look to what might unfold.

Taking a deep breath , he recedes in the crowd .

Wiping the sweat off his palms ,

He looks to the skies , the one last time ,

It won’t take long  Mother , to be in your arms.

He looks at his watch , as his man take the steps ,

With the applause of the blinded sheep’s sounding out loud.

He checks his pocket  and holds the weapon tight ,

As the man on the stage takes a bow .

Swift like a light , he picks on his weapon ,

And shoots at the man three times in a row .

Crying out revolution , as he makes his kill ,

Among the shrieks and sounds that followed the fall .

As death followed in bullets , he smiled to his last breath ,

Quenching the pain , by the joy of his deed .

Later in times to some he was a villain ,to many a hero

But to us an Anarchist who bore the seed.

 Outcome Of Mundanity

It was a day like any other day ,

There was nothing that happened , there was nothing to say .

I wondered alone , as I landed on the bed ,

Isn’t this routine , is what I dread.

How many days , are just so alike ,

When we all say that we have a short life.

Why can’t each day be an event to remember ,

laden with doubt  , but not dreary or somber.

A hour hand is ticking , so is me ,

We both start together and end where were we.

Time has changed but we stay the same ,

Spending the day , in the circle of frame.

As I stared out through the shabby little window ,

watching  the clouds ,gently moving across.

I made out a face of all those patterns ,

And it was smiling and playful , with a childish glow.

I envy those vapors that makes these clouds ,

Being carried across over  the flight  of the wind,

Not knowing where they will reach when they chose to be the rain ,

Being sprayed over the gods , or flowing in a stream.

As I look around , I see all these people ,

So happy and contend with what they do .

They have chosen a road , en route to their deaths ,

Comfort of the journey , is the consolation they know.

I want to cross over , the paths and the routes ,

And see the world in its best and the worst.

I don’t want shade , on the road of my travel ,

It kills my shadow, the only one I trust.

Sound of Vacuum

The Best thing about posting a Podcast is that , it doesn’t take any space on the blog , and I can say whatever in it without thinking of any standards I am usually so particular about when writing. So people won’t be repulsed by it as only a few will click and listen to it .Also all those thoughts that won’t get any place in my blog as such in normal blog posts , still hold  a chance in my podcast. 

Frankly speaking , its been a while I have put something on blog , but I just couldn't write. I tried but failed . So I thought let me put my voice if I cant get the words. I usually don't prefer it as such . But it's better than nothing. It is here to fill the vacuum and I hope it will succeed.

The Dream of a Dawn

World is going through a Transition . Arab spring ,Occupy Wall Street , Wikileaks  all of these are part of a Silent Revolution . The corrupt government's , dictators , autocrats , Conglomerates and corporations are ruling most of the world , while the commoners are being coerced into submission. While the few enjoy the sunshine , most of the world has plunged into darkness. But through this darkness is born a light of hope.And When the world , gets the taste of the first ray of light , they will start dreaming of a new Dawn . And once they Start Dreaming the Dawn , the Dawn will arrive .

I dedicate my poem to all those who are working hard to bring this dawn and illuminate our minds and souls.

Wandering through the high hill  palms;

Seeping in the widowed barren lands.

The darkness is gloating on its rein;

Feigning the crown of the deathly silence.

The tired souls are broken and numb;

Jaded by the melancholy of grisly night.

Some have been laid to quietus from fright;

In the ghetto’s of misery and absence of light.

Dreams are gone though they all sleep long;

As the chilly winds croon the song of despair.

The shadows have merged in a utopian darkness;

Inequity is supreme in the iniquity’s exulted reign.

The clouds creep in  like a sleuth of night;

Appalling through their might on the jaded souls.

Whilst the snobs make out a boorish loud thunder;

The Mortals wake up as the  cerebral  light is born.

Amidst the garish thunder , the flashes get the luster;

And the souls construe the colors ,as darkness fray.

Aghast by the light , the night let go the downpour;

But Dreams of the dawn now  , no deluge can wash away.

When a Lazy Soul Yawns .....................

I thought I wont be writing anymore for sometime at least . But now looks like I have been infected by a virus where sometimes if something comes to my mind I just need to type it . And although they might just be some random thoughts of a lazy mind , well if it is written it has to be posted. Since it's for me , right , and no one else. So when a lazy soul yawns , the following pieces are the outcome.One is an attempted poetry and another is an attempted song. Here the key word is Attempted ..

A day in life :

No deep thoughts , no big emotions . No Depression , No Sadness . Just a plane simple account of a very normal day in life . Well Again , inspired by the epic Beatles song  ‘ A day in Life “ where Lennon /Mccartney wove magic in the lyrics. My poem tells  how a small little thing like a guitar pick can make or ruin your day.There is no moral of the story , And if there is , the reader have to use their own mind to find one . It’s the first time I tried my luck to some lighter stuff . Hope I am better than Miserable. 

There was a day : Attempted song .....nothing more to say , nothing more should be tried , Never should be sung , I know ..someone will die...

A Day In Life 

My day was as good , as it can get;

I was feeling happy and all was set.

I smiled my way into my car;

Thought I’ll go home and play some guitar.

Reached Home Fast at Half Past Four ;

Singing all the way , to the fourth Floor .

Jumped into the shower , started the jukebox;

The playlist of my throat can never get lost.

All dressed up and looking fine;

Some juice in the Glass of Guyana’s Lime.

I reached for my guitar , to start the show;

Strummed with the pick and said “ here we go “.

Played a few chords in Harrison Style ;

It was coming so well , I went the extra mile.

Pleased with myself at ten past Six;

I checked into the Face book , taking a break.

I met few friends , from long time back;

Read a new review for a service pack.

Had some nice chats ,and heard a new song;

It was “the day” , nothing can go wrong.

I picked my guitar for another start ;

If it’s going well then let’s not part.

For a few seconds I dreamt of Beatles fame;

But where is my pick , can’t find it Damn!!

Searched for it , all over my place;

Under the bed sheets  and over the case.

At fifteen past eight , I sank in the chair;

Can’t get the pick and it’s there nowhere.

Feeling so low , with nothing to do;

My mood grew dark , and it’s sad I knew.

The sense when you missed on something u want ;

It’s little tingling pain quite close to the heart.

Heard a loud  knock on my room’s door ;

 I Opened it with a fearsome roar.

Startled the little boy , dropped the cup ;

It was my evening tea , he had brought up.

 I was out of wits in not much time;

When I finished cleaning , it was half past nine.

As I sat tired , to take a breath;

The Power went off , I gave a yell of death.

Nothing can be right , on this wretched day;

Whatever I do , try as I may.

As I lay on bed , in dark with closed eyes;

Something sharp scratched my neck , like a pointed knife.

I reached for the thing in the dark;

Beneath the pillow cover , like an arc .

And it was there , my little guitar pick;

Can’t help but smile , on god’s little trick.

 

There Was A Day

There has been days , when I always knew

That it will rain ,it will be very soon

But I will be ,all alone again ,

As without  you, it’s never the same.

But as I say this ,my Love ,

Are you looking ,from above ,

I  have been thinking  all day ,

Why god has taken you away ,

How did I ever ,let you go

How can I be, happy anymore ..

there was a day , when I first saw you  ,

such a lovely smile  ,and before I knew

We were in love , forever I said ,

You just smiled And kissed, me instead.

  

But as I say this ,my Love ,

Are you looking from above ,

I  have been thinking  all day ,

Why god has taken you away ,

How did I ever let you go

can I be happy anymore ..

But there will be a day , when you and me ..

Will be together , and you will see,

All the love ,I have kept inside ,

Will still be there , when I die.

And as I say this my love ,

I know you are looking from above.

I know you are looking from above.

A 1000 Hits to a 1000 Thoughts.

Well my blog has reached thousand hits. I don't know how , but yes . It's not much but I am happy enough to try something new this time. So I am putting my first podcast so that for once you can hear my thoughts as well.I hope my voice can keep up with my thoughts. lets see .Sometimes I wonder how much I talk to myself . hmmmm................

High Tides in Moonless Nights

I am in a very critical stage of my life . And I know , in few months my life may experience some dramatic turbulence , which can change the course of my journey. So before it happens , and before  I cease to stay what I am now , I would like to  share whatever I can write , through the lens of my own narrow , secluded mind. As of now , whatever I can say , has to come in the mould of Poetry. So here they are.

A day in Abstract is my last in the series of " High Tides in Moonless Night" . Its one of the longest poem I ever wrote as well as my most challenging. Inspiration are those timeless western Ballads and Songs , as well as Poems I remember reading as a child. I am not sure about the result on the readers point of view , but I am satisfied by the outcome myself.

A Recurring Dream is a poem I wrote sometime back , but did not post . I do get recurring dreams , and the idea when I started was to question why it's happening.Although I drifted a little in the poem and hence didn't post earlier. But now , I guess it's worth the effort to put in here .

Epilogue to a Friendship is actually a very personal piece. I wrote it for my Friend , And I hope it is read by the one for whom it is intended.

I don't know why is again a personal piece , one taken from my experience in Congo as an expat.Frankly since three months I havn't seen blue sky , moon or stars ever here.But more than that its a also a satire about people , I have met on the various phases of my work life.

I will be taking a break from my business of Poetry for sometime. I hate monotony , and well I am thinking of doing something else . But I will keep posting in between . Thanks to each and everyone who took their  precious time  out of their extremely busy life to visit my blog. I hope that I haven't disappointed my readers and visitors. 




A DAY IN ABSTRACT

As the Sunshine came , through the broken window glass

I woke half way through the dream;

As my mind jumbled , in thoughts of broken slumber,

I gazed at the lonely wooden beam.

The beam held a clock , showing ten minutes past  nine,

I  cursed  myself for sleeping late;

As I rushed to the shower, knowing I was losing  time

Hoping still for a good day fate.

I drove the car  hard , on that  cold Monday Morning ,

While my mind got busy in Math;

It’s still three papers , and one more meeting

As my eyes left the sight of  path.

Out of nowhere ,an old man came ,

May be of sixty and five;

As stuck by a light ,I pushed on the brake

Thought he is gonna die.

The car slipped across , I was launched to the front ,

Still pushing  as hard as I could;

It went all in vain , as it still hit the man ,

while crashing into the wood.

Those moment of dark silence , when the world seemed tumbling,

My eyes ceased to raise;

I prayed to lord,for wife and my daughter,

Was my first in many-many days.

The moist feel of blood , on my forehead

told me I was still alive;

As I thanked my stars , with tears rolling over,

there was knock on the window I realized.

The old man I hit , was standing by the window

All red in mud and pouring blood.

He had a tall figure , and well built body ,

He seemed to have come up to rough.

I opened up the door , and dragged myself out ,

Apologizing to the man as I stood;

"I am really sorry Sir , I was in my thoughts,

Pardon me if you could".

The old man Smiled , put a hand on my shoulder

And said that he is fine and alright ;

"It was my fault , that I was on the  road,

and a little too much to the right".

"Come over son , I know how u feel,

and the sense of that smashing fright ;

Move to the corner turn , let’s have a  beer,

You will then start feeling light".

We moved to the pub and had a glass of beer ,

With the old man staring through my eyes ;

Then he put the glass down , lighted a cigarette ,

And started with the flowing smile.

"Your hands are still trembling, Your mind is still wondering ,

What are you so scared about ;

We both are still living , and your car is still moving What is in the mind to doubt".

I said I missed the morning meeting , my clients would  been waiting,

Guess I am  gonna lose my job;

I tried my very best , lost all my sleep and rest;

Still I fail to make my ground.

Stranger to my little daughter , to my love no better;

All for the money and a good life;

Had I died in the crash , Leaving alone my wife and daughter;

I dare think to that sight.

The old man gulped , one more glass of bear ;

Gazing  the  sky as in trance;

You are very lucky , you can still see your baby

I never got a second chance.

"You are my past , and I was driving very fast,

In the car of money and fame;

I lost my Little daughter , when sending her to  my mother

As her plane crashed and burned in flame".

"I remember her crying , when I still was trying

to get her into the flight;

She said you don’t love your daughter, Mommy was so better,

I wish she was  still alive".

The old man trembled ,tears came rolling

As I looked with eyes open wide;

You don’t know son , from that day to this one.

How many times I have died.

"Son you doing fine , just don’t lose your time

For the moments that may never arrive;

If my life a lesson , Go home and see the reason,

which makes one want to be alive".

The Old man left , with a hat on his head ,

Limping a little as he made his stride;

Snow start falling , and I was on my way crawling ,

His words splashing like  a tide.

A RECURRING DREAM

A recurring dream , so surreal ,

It keeps me thinking , is it  for real
Forms and shadows , routes and paths ,
That blowing wind , the fluttering mast.
The sounds I hear , the voices I know ,
so crisp so clear ,fresh as snow.


I wander around , in my dream.
Living in it , like what i mean.
Here I am loved for what I am
Nothing to hide , nothing to sham.


Sky is open , Stars are above ,
Noise do cease and its music of love.

If dreams are real and life is not ,
Present is absent  , and past is lost.
Nothing has happened , nothing will end.
My dreams will shape , the moves and bend.

Will swim over the skies and fly in the ocean.
will glide  the wind , in swinging motion.
Pain will perish , sorrows will drown .
Joy will flutter , pleasure will crown.

The dreams that lives with open eyes ,
Are seeds of future , and hope of life.
Hold them tight , never let them go,
life is void , with no dreams to sow

Enduring a life , with a shimmering dream.
That dream will be life , with nothing in between.

EPILOGUE TO A FRIENDSHIP




 As I sit today , with a pen and Paper , I cant think what to write.
The only thing that's dragging me  ,  is this lonely creepy night .
The realm of thoughts , amidst the dark , brings memories to overflow
I am missing  a friend , who was special , for times I forever know  

Sadness came to me , holding me , she said   with teary eyes ,
She no longer remember my dear , you are off her sight.

Something has snapped , I don't know what , Gulf is too large now.

hope if there is not too much , but memories don't take a bow.

We had  been too close before , and now are much too far ,

Its more than any pain I suffered , much  more than any scar.

  

I could had hurt her  ,may be  a lot more than I might know
But I too was hurt ,not any less  and that is as much true
I have lived over the hurt , dragged myself , from the mud of hopeless despair.
I want you ,  to get over too , only if u care.

 Life is not a happy ride , we both know it well.
We have to turn up and find a way, when the darkness swell
There will be painful times , but hope must always survive ,
For every dusk has a dawn , and every day has a night.

   

I have nothing much to say , but I wanna do it right .

I Know I should say sorry , and end over the fight .
Ego drags me back at times far many  , and anger put its shield,
But I could see the pain ,smiling hideously , behind the anger's veil.

 

So I confess to her once more ,  that behind my each hurting word ,
There was still a lot of care , lots of affection and love.
I never wanted to hurt her , Never thought I could .
But life when it turns brings us down , through those slanting unknown curves .

I want her to move on , over this  pain and feeling of hurt
Time has come to let it rest and forget what has past.
I am trying to mend ,the friendship, which lays in ruins,
I need from her a helping hand , and hope it will be soon.

Time is a drunken lad , swinging up and down on the street ,
We never knew when it could hit , and end our flirting  beat.
I dread the thought of the life's end ,with pain and regret in heart,
Of not being able to set it right , and gazing her smile at last.

I Don't Know Why  

Why the sky is never much blue here ,
Why the clouds are always hanging in there.
I can hardly see any stars at night .
Which are mostly gloomy , and days are never bright.

Why doesn't moon , talk to me nowadays,
We used to walk togather I remember,
The stars which used to laugh and twinkle,
Can't see them anymore , its all so sombre.

 

Why don't the birds chirp anymore.
Why I cant see the fine nests hanging around.
Where has all the frogs gone to quake .
Why no children , dance in the rain.

Why is there so much noise
Its hard to make out my own fuzzy voice.
Where has all the innocence gone to hide.
Why one cant be humble , yet bright .

Why I see people , old at thirty ,
and children talking money at five.
Why I cant see , any happy faces,
though I see people , laughing outside.

Why we all have so many selves ,
Its hard to know , which one is true.
Why am I left with no more aces,
To win back the game , I am losing through.

Why true love , so hard to find.
Why cant we be rich , still stay kind.
Why has fear became a part of life,
Why life itself is such a heavy price.

 

Why so many words but so little meaning.
Why I cant fly even when dreaming.
Why tears come fast , but dry in no time.
Why so many why's , and I am still doing fine !!