Dawn

Slyly; ever so slyly,
Does wakefulness
Into my body slither,
But brawny drowsiness
Does catch it by its neck
And purge my inert body of vitality.

Outside, a leaf slowly withers.

Now, the screeching sounds of an alarm,
Pierce through my darkness,
Blinding all my senses,
Rendering me clueless.

A sleepy hand shoots out,
And violently throws down the offending clock
Which instantly shatters.

Does it really matter?

The Eulogy of Blithe Rest

Oh! How I will miss you,
Just as all who somehow lose you,
Not forget you
Never let you
Far away from my fantasy.

The serenity of blankness,
Matched by none,
Sleepy unknowing,
A calm sun.

And even a little disturbance
Does send you to your grave,
And I do not know how,
In these times of madness,
You can ever be saved.

I cry out to you,
As I am wrenched from your warm arms,
And thrown into the awaiting arms of drudgery,
That many-headed beast,
Of hopes, temptations and endless dreams,
Of hollow expectation, meaningless fantasy.

Today...

Today all my dreams will come true,
And all that I dream of will finally be done,
Today will be that special day,
The awaited day, the holy one.

Part the clouds, bring out the sun!

Breakfast

Meandering butter on warm toast,
A delight to my slumbering eyes,
The leisurely, languid movement,
Of lazy butter that caresses the bread,
Keeps me transfixed; and
Each tiny movement of the melted butter,
Is followed by a movement of my head.

My taste buds rejoice at the sight,
In happiness they dance and play,
But, suddenly, my meal falls to the ground,
And me, I shake my head and walk away.

It just shows the fragility of man’s desire,
There’s no soothing smile that doesn’t hide a frown,
No matter how close our goals may look,
They’re just a moment away from crashing down.

The News Today

I read the news today, oh boy,
There were so many men who made the grave,
They had found a long-lost man,
Whose home for many years had been a cave.
He took them inside to reveal his room,
They wandered freely in the gloom,
However, the devil had a surprise for them,
The roof of this happy home came crashing down,
They were all buried alive,
All they could do was stand and stare,
As fragments of death came rushing down at them,
It truly was a terrible fate,
But, come to think of it, should I really care?

I don’t really know what to think,
Just as I don’t know what is right,
And thoughts do rush upon me,
From everywhere,
Questioning me, binding me,
Informing me, blinding me,
A lost sensation of unanswered questions.
Asking me if I care…

I read the news today, oh boy,
In a far-off country there raged Sorrow’s war,
For the pleasure of a few greedy men,
A thousand soldiers had just lost their souls,
Their mind in panic, their fear absolute,
Explosions of lives echoing in their hearts,
Were they not much too young to kill?
Closing emotion, throwing lives up in the sky,
Guilt that would have burnt them from within,
Guilt that travelled in the air,
But, it didn’t matter, because they all died,
And, you know, no one really cared.

It’s just another article in the newspaper,
People don’t feel pain in print,
Emotions don’t flow in the newspaper,
You can just fold it up, throw it away,
Get up, and get on with your day.

The Bus Journey

I’m swimming in a sea of thoughts,
Some of them frivolous, some profoundly rare,
I see them, they see me,
But no one else knows they’re there.

These thoughts float aimlessly around me,
My eyes are locked on them,
My eyeballs cannot move away,
And though my brain tells my eyes to close,
These disobedient twins listen not to what it has to say.

And now these thoughts are changing their colours,
My vision goes dizzy, all reason is cloudy,
And, sensing vulnerability,
All varied thoughts surround me.

A melancholic mist of mauve,
Crying unseen tears of lament,
Implores me to hear its sad tale,
Of sharing its sorrow, forgiving all regret.

But, before it can begin,
The bus gains alarming speed,
And these roguish beings,
Sensing emotion,
Emotion upon which they feed,
Run amok around my gaze,
Crashing dark green’s greed,
Into the remorseless rage of red,
Growing Death’s little seeds,
Pale unreason, an uncanny fluid,
Which action does impede,
And all these murky creatures,
Are born of human need.

And now, hypnotized, I can resist impulse no longer,
Curious, almost to a fault,
I reach out to feel these intimate beings,
However, just then, the bus comes to a halt,
What an interesting journey it has been.

All subliminal creatures disappear,
Into darkness, pain and fear,
I look above me, the sky is grey,
And now it is time to resume my day.

At The Office

I’m staring at my computer,
It’s staring back at me,
Some say we live in different worlds,
Still, we share a lovely relationship,
Eloquence without words.

Around me, people run in all directions,
Motivated to work hard all their lives,
No time to merely sit and think,
As the climb the crowded ladder of success.
Often they ask me why I sit and stare,
Why my life is out of focus,
Why I don’t seem to care.


Me, I don’t listen,
To the advice that they force upon me,
And still, a blank screen stares avidly,
Who would have guessed it cannot see?