I sat alone by the seashore
Waiting for the waves to catch me
And take me out to sea
Yet I felt a strange fear
Of being washed up on alien shores
And finding the emptiness that haunts me.
The sands were soft under my feet
As the sea would come to greet me
With a delightful coolness
And splash me when I least expected>
Leaving the taste of lingering salt on my tongue
And the rough sand clinging to my dress.
I danced a waltz with the ocean
Catching the water in the cup of my hand
As the waves rolled higher, engulfing more sand
And there was no one I wanted but you
To hold my hand as I walked on
Into the ocean to greet the highest wave.
I surrendered to the saline waters
Letting it play tug of war with my body
I watched the pebbles roll out beside me
Too feeble to resist the smoothing waves
And crab peeked through the salty liquid
Before being carried out to sea.
Then I found myself standing
As the waves crashed against me
And took me closer to peace
And I walked away from the salty sea
With an unexpected gift left by the ocean
A pocketful of sand and a smile on my lips.
~*~*~
There is something about the ocean which draws me towards it. I guess most people must feel this way about the ocean, but I somehow believe that I have such a liking for it because I spent much of my childhood living near it. I didn’t visit it that often, but if I had known what a wonderful the sea is at that time, I’m sure I would’ve gone there every chance I had. Some of my earliest memories are about beaches, seashells, and the sound of the waves. Somehow I’m feeling kind of nostalgic about it. There is nothing like sitting in the water as the waves lap over you. I can just sit and listen forever.
Welcome to the machine, fellow human,
Whose senses have dulled over the years,
Placid stimulation gushes through your nerves,
Can you feel any real sensation anymore?
Welcome to the machine, rotten taste-buds,
Daily indulgence leads to monotone,
Until there lies no difference between
The tastiest food and distilled water.
Welcome to the machine, morbid minds,
All emotions are discarded as aberrations.
And the heavy perfume hides the stink
Of our decaying brains, intellectually deprived.
Welcome to the machine, hardened bodies,
The magical touch, the feel of frigid cold,
Or softness of skin on skin, has faded,
The only sensation left is that of numbness.
Welcome to the machine, dear humanity,
The machine which drones on,
In the background of our mind,
Taking with it the sound of silence.
Welcome to the machine, dulled musician,
For there are no differences left
Between traffic horns playing their symphony
And the notes flowing through the radio.
Welcome to the machine, plastic faces,
With layers of lies upon more lies,
Concealed so well it’s all that shines through.
And the only beauty seen is plastic smiles.
Welcome to the machine, dead dreamers,
Whose dreams were killed early in life,
And life was spent trying hard to avenge
The loss of the only thing that really mattered.
Welcome to the machine, hollow faces,
Where all personalities merge into one,
Programmed to breathe, programmed to live.
Programmed to be absolutely no one.
~*~*~
The above is greatly inspired by a song by Pink Floyd, “Welcome to the Machine”. I guess it has more to do with what the title and the music evokes in me than the actual lyrics of the song. I thought and thought about how the world works more like a machine, where we’re told to follow a set path, and become the plastic successful person with no real personality or dreams of his/her own. Yes, there is still a lot of variety, a lot of individualism, but somehow I believe that there isn’t enough of it. Then again I guess we all live in a little shell, and we only perceive things as we see them around us. We’re all little frogs in a well who haven’t seen the ocean, and some of us might never see the ocean. Anyways there I go rambling again.
Apologies for my lack of posts, I’ve been kind of busy, but more than that I’ve just been suffering from writer’s block. I hope to be back soon with something better, I know I’m not entirely happy with how this turned out. Hope all my fellow blogging friends are doing well. I apologize for my disappearance as well, will try my best to visit your blogs as soon as I possibly can.
Capturing Tears (Image found via Google Image Search)
~*~*~
And I’m falling
Falling till I can’t feel anymore,
Falling till my senses fade,
Leaving me with nothing
Except the memories of laughter
That I gave up long ago.
Tainted by thorns,
I lie like a dream unrequited,
Encumbered by the weight of existence,
Hanging heavy over the tears
That refuse to choke my voice,
And I am waiting
For the blood to surface
So I can have my taste of pain.
Solitary confinement,
Two words tingling my tongue,
For it is all that I have come to desire
Over the seconds that fly by
Keeping me locked in
With a feeling of despair,
I want to fly to a far off place
To bid my time alone
Till I lay down to close my eyes forever.
The laughing voices echo
From the depths of my past
‘This sound that I gave up long ago
For a vial of tears
More precious than diamonds
That light the night sky.
No tears, no sounds,
No vials of madness
Can make my heart long
To wish for more
Than the alms given,
Mendicants cannot dream
To be Kings.
But the tears too have left me,
How unreliable they have been
What must I depend on next
To keep my clock ticking?
The folly of these tears
Will not be forgotten
As the subterfuge
Of those lost sounds
Pierce my memory sharply,
Emotions are tricksters.
The glass lies broken,
The content spilled
Across the floor,
The thistle has overgrown,
The roses have died,
The tears slipped
And escaped me,
The laughter is long gone,
I’m left with only apathy,
With which to pick up
The broken shards of glass.
Loneliness crept up slowly, unheard,
Like the madness set out to take over a soul,
And before I knew it, I could feel it in my bones,
This maddening loneliness would not leave me alone.
I could feel it stronger in the midst of the crowd,
Many smiling faces, but none could touch my heart,
All I wanted to do was run away from the noise,
Where I could be alone and feel my solitary warmth.
Familiar faces distanced me with their words,
Strangers became easier to speak to, if required,
And afternoons spent alone in my little hole,
Became the best time I had ever spent, always alone.
Dreams of distant lands came to me often,
Where not a face knew me except my anonymity,
And I’d have a smile on my face, a song in my heart,
For this loneliness would be my supreme birthright.
So I built a shell around me, bit by bit,
A shell to hide from me the harsh sunlight,
A shell unbreakable, a shell so tight,
To keep my solitary happiness to myself.
Oh this Solitude, ’tis a vicious feeling that digs deeper,
Becoming an unwanted guest refusing to leave,
Making its home in the heart and mind,
Like a virus, incurable, bringing with it a sickness which stays.
The clouds formed a carpet in the sky,
Shedding drops of heaven to the ground,
The wind danced like my fickle mind,
Changing direction with every sound,
And I sat dreamily watching the cold wet tar,
As a flower fallen, was picked up by the wind,
And rolled down the pavement before it stopped,
So enchanting was the moment,
Mesmerized, my eyes lingered to it constantly,
Though I knew the wind had dropped it home.
I sat there listening to the voices of children talking,
As friends who sat beside me talked of news,
Yet I heard nothing, but the sound of silence
Trying hard to be heard, but still quite amused.
The gooseberry flavor lingered on my tongue,
Recently stolen from the garden nearby,
The taste was tangy, my tongue dry,
As I sat there dreamily pondering over life,
Life was sour, life was bitter, and oh so sweet,
And then I thought of you and smiled.
Sadness crept into my heart in faint traces.
As I stared at the poor man’s abode across the street,
It was desolated and empty, with a shiny lock,
Rusting, and so fragile, as if about to fall,
Yet among the riches, stood this poor man’s life,
Possessions meant nothing in these times of strife,
But his world was hidden behind that decaying door,
Through which he must have crawled every night,
To lie awake until the thoughts clouded his mind
And put him in a state of sweet slumber.
The wind blew, and took my mind for a ride,
To unknown faces, and far off places,
And a beautiful sadness took over my soul,
Threatening to steal away my feelings so cold.
The voices from the distance came to life,
As if awakening me from a dream,
But my heart was light, my thoughts dreamy,
As we walked back to our box of reality,
The fallen flowers floating in puddles,
Kept me from forgetting that sad, beautiful emotion.
With the Crane came happiness,
And sunlight dissolved the darkness
That had permeated deep into the soul.
The warmth crept up slowly,
Taking away the numbness inside,
And with it the melancholic echoes.
The silence it brought lingered on,
Like peace after a great storm,
And no chaos was left anymore.
This Great Crane, this wondrous bird,
Flew into my heart without a word,
And with it, came the essence of life.
I’m standing at the edge again,
Looking down and waiting,
For the slightest blast of wind
To sway me, convince me
Coax me over the jagged cliff,
Down to the waters below,
To meet the smoothened stones,
Crashing waves, my longing gaze,
And the sun is yet to be swallowed.
The cold stone is slippery,
Threatening to pull me down
Before my mind has been made up
It knows the turmoil within
The deepest crevice of my soul
It knows the strange calm
Quivering at the tip of my lips
Waiting for the wisp of a command
To either take the leap of courage
Or to turn away from my so-called fate.
The word lingers at the edge
Of consciousness, unfelt, unheard
Twisted by reason to mean nothing
But the feelings remain raw, untouched
The substance of dreams cannot be changed
Memories can be mutated in the mind
But the essence of each drop shall remain
All the while, the echoes shall lie
Forgotten in the deep dwelling of the soul
The soul that never existed.
The command has been whispered
I remain standing, unable to comprehend
Where life has brought me
Where I am to drift, as I have been drifting
Almost unconsciously, yet fully aware
I’ve been going as the wind takes me
How much further must I go?
The road is long and weary,
Twisting and turning,
The cliff is inviting,
One single slip
And it’s over
I’m falling
Caught
Alive
Am
I
?
The clouds have arrived,
In chariots, driven by wisps of vapor,
Entangled and entwined
In the greatest phenomenon
To bring down a shower
Of the first monsoon rains,
To quench the thirst of the earth,
Baked by the summer sun,
Rendered a lifeless brown.
We wait in anticipation,
For the rain to pour down,
And drench our weary hearts,
But the clouds hang over us,
Teasing us, taunting us,
Bringing us cold winds
But keeping the rain at bay,
Letting out only a few drops,
To let us know they are heavy
But cruel in every way.
We can hear them laughing,
And see their smile,
Then feel a drop of life
Fall at our feet,
The sky is charged
With the greatest energy
But we will have to wait
Longer than we had hoped
For the Tempest to come in
And let the roads turn to rivers
That will sweep us off our feet.
And lo’, the storm’s a comin’,
After waiting for days,
It’s here to bring color
And sound sleep to the tired,
With the pitter-patter of drops,
That fall on the window,
And give us promises
Of a cool and windy morning
We wait in anticipation,
As the rain sings us a lullaby,
And we drift into sweet slumber.
~*~*~
Perfect Poet Award Week 45
I got the Perfect Poet Award for Week 45. I would like to thank everyone for it!
I would like to nominate Jamie Dedes for the next award.
The above poem is my acceptance poem.
The dust of our fathers fall to the ground,
We’re left to pick up the torn pieces
Of their dreams that never took form
Wispy, sick, and cold to the bone
Twisted out of shape, crumbling to dust,
Spreading its rust to the dreams we once held,
Until they too break at the slightest touch.
Our dreams are Ghosts that haunt us each day,
Constantly reminding us of what gave up today,
To build a tomorrow that we will always delay,
As we chase after things that keep us this way.
And we are always chasing, chasing all the time,
After things that help us slowly drown,
In a cup of our own blood, sweat, and tears,
Invested but never enjoyed, in this unknown tragedy,
Until the seconds fly by and leave us pondering,
Where all the moments went that we were to cherish for life,
And it sinks in that we’ve lost too much but gained nothing of our own.
Our dreams are Ghosts that haunt us each day,
Constantly reminding us of what gave up today,
To build a tomorrow that we will always delay,
As we chase after things that keep us this way.
But I would rather have my Ghosts,
Haunting me day and night,
Reminding me of the little forgotten sparks of life,
Than hear the tragedy of the voices in my head,
Hopeless and forgotten by the waters I once tread,
For if anything, I only feel inspired to dream again
Though the dreams may never be more than fleeting dreams.
Swaying to the rhythm of the breeze,
The solitary leaf, hung by its stem,
Orange, crinkled, a little naïve,
Though it had lived to see the winter,
And had watched as his brothers left him behind.
It remembered the song of the Nightingale,
As it sung through the night,
Its song heard by few, but still sung with much blithe
Sitting nearby on the very same tree,
Oh, the nostalgia had set in much too clearly.
A home the leaf had, and many friends too,
Rustling in the wind, whispering with trees,
And thinking, just thinking of forgotten memories,
Life was a lively affair with many changes unseen,
But always felt as one season changed to another.
Winter was upon the horizon, waiting to lash down,
A chilling breeze left the solitary leaf astound
But he held on, with all his might,
That someday he may see the dear sunlight,
And be surrounded once again with rustling laughter.
Alas, with a gust of wind, the end had arrived,
His crinkled stem could hang on no longer,
And he was blown into the sky, far out and above,
He knew now what it felt to fly and touch the clouds,
Before he slowly fluttered to the ground, content.
Inside the Mind of a Lunatic 