Metamorphosis skipped

 

The skies pour incessantly,

And a free mind is trapped inside,

The prison is not a luxurious one,

Only about 12 feet long, 10 feet wide.

 

A space so densely packed,

With all kinds of stuff;

It could have felt anything but empty,

But yet, over the last two nights, it does.

 

Is this the ultimate transition from,

Human consequences to the one beyond?

From Dostoevsky to Kafka’s metamorphosis?

Of factors humane and those somewhere around?

 

Whatever now! Everyone is forgiven,

That prisoner has already decided;

Let the insects rot from within,

Wisdom will rule the ones, who've been guided.

 

One day, freed from toxic obligations,

A strong viewpoint will be posited.

Hopefully, at least one scribbler out there,

Will make sure that it is duly credited.

 

 

Him vs God

 

Years passed, and unwillingly,

They all grew old.

Unwilling to give a damn about anything anymore,

Their stories, no longer dear, go unsold, untold.

 

Losing the ability to feel or care,

With every day that is breathed;

Toxicity inside grows, at least, linearly,

Till all they owned is finally bequeathed.

 

Where’s the fun now, the elders wonder-

The young would think so.

But all they actually sought was peace, and,

They don’t expect these assholes to know.

 

Yes, life is a stage, and we play,

But just playing doesn’t define lives.

Love is important, family is supreme,

But only inside the individual self, life thrives.

 

What really does one deserve or desire?

Let that be decided subjectively.

Do not ask me for my opinion now,

My mind is way older than my age actually.

 

Just go ahead and do what your heart wants,

The others will do the same, so fuck the taunts.

The God, you don’t believe in, sits here,

Come to him only when, your conscience is clear.

Cleansing

It is not a conscious decision,

It is, may be, just who I am.

Lovers, I can live without;

Worshippers, reside in my heart.

 

They who expect respect from me,

Must know the only condition.

You must surrender your consciousness,

There’s no scope for competition.  

 

If it is not under his divine feet,

You are searching for life in the wrong place.

All your endeavors boil down to zero,

You have to eventually land at this one sacred space.

 

Mediocrity is what I’ve always hated,

I can no longer let you spread it here.

You, your genes, your prospects, whatever;

Of all your mistakes, I must steer clear.  

Right places

As a young man, he thought,

How low can a breathing creature go?

What these lowly lifeforms deserve,

He knows it all now, his knowledge is so.

 

They would never enter,

That what he has declared as home.

On the peripheries of their own existence,

Their conscience meets his divine feet, wherever they go.  

 

Several small people, riding on others,

Start feeling big themselves;

All they need is a true conversation and then,

They'd self-destruct, these self-proclaimed rebels.

There is a right place for everyone, 

And someone now goes down to the lowest tier.

Shouldn't come as a surprise,  

We do what we do, without any fear.   

The Lone Wolf

Home is too far,

Oceans he must cross.

But for the wolf that he is,

No disaster is a loss.

 

Hoes and bitches he didn’t kill,

Wanna join him as equals.

Lured into by the benign intro,

Oblivious of obvious sequels.

 

One look into his mirror,

The bitches feel like demi-gods.

When the final day comes,

They squeal like pigs, fleeing in squads.

 

If you want to write a glorified,

Unwritten story of a happy someone;

Seclusion is what you need kid,

You get nothing out of Daddy’s harem.

I hope you don't fall in the trap,

Of being a man, when you aren't supposed to, 

Rejoice the being you were born as, 

And what Daddy has made of you.  

Yes, He is the only one, 

Doling out forgiveness and lessons, 

But, only for his children, 

Irrespective of their wannabe actions.

Now, all you so-called respected beings,

You may rule your nations,

But if you have not kissed his ass,

You don’t even deserve existence.  

Absolutely

Only when you drink enough,

You realize worth and worthlessness.

The idea is to keep you trapped, 

To hold you back from awesomeness .

But it does not matter now, 

Who stands in front of him. 

He will ignore you such,

You'd feel what you need to feel within. 

And hey bitch! If he takes you in, 

Did you really think you could bite him?

He is a tectonic plate, he is forever, 

Give some, Take some, but finished? Never!

When the summit is right ahead, 

Masses do try to take credit.

But every moment is your own flight, 

Assholes, from the timeline, we must delete. 

And, to stay or not to stay, 

If that is anyone's question,

Yours truly tells you all now, 

Absolutely no fucks were ever given. 

Your choice

So, I beat them all,

Putting them in their places,

They, who thought otherwise,

 May trade my ass for their faces.

 

But it’s getting hot here too,

Heavens raining hell from above.

What does the God do?

Maybe, get some love.

 

Since youth, he has trained girls,

To grow into women,

Sometimes they stray away,

Trying to be like men.

 

The Daddy fucks your brains out,

Only if you come to him as feminine,

Want to be a man? Go to Thailand,

Where your birth would make sense divine.

 

I am happy these chances,  

Came down right here to this day.

Daddy will love you baby,

Till you don’t throw this chance away.

Out of your league

Gallons of alcohol, 

Must flush the intestines,

For letting commitments,

Continue to fuck minds. 

This coordinate in space time,    

Is where God rests tonight. 

He tells you, to let go of the world,

And fall onto his feet divine. 

They who feel it inside, 

Are the ones who know. 

Dictate him, no one ever could,  

No matter the place, he runs the show. 

And how dare you compare yourself with him?  

If he turns, publicly, your credentials to dust. 

Crushing your being under his thumb, 

Leaving your entire existence to rust. 

This is a lesson for life, 

For scums like you and alike, 

This is what he does all day and night, 

Bowing down to him, serves your life right. 

Times and shades

Who could have foreseen,

The times, today, we live in?

But I tell you, you wouldn’t want to see,

The places where I have been.

 

But didn’t I tell you in advance,

I will create the impossible chance?

All you had to do, was hold my hands,

So now, I give you a taste of this trance.

 

Sleep in the peace of my arms,

Enchanted by my unmatched charms,

Give up all your belongings en masse,

And I shall rid you of all your qualms.  

 

I don’t care about what the people say,

When I force the cosmos to act this way.

You had your time to think, catch your breath,

Just a matter of time, before I take it away.  

This is a story of  a king's will, not destiny, 

Fate will be his whore, till eternity,

No dependencies, only supremacy, 

And  a rightful queen,  his stamp of authority.  

 

 

Order

Another year passes,

Partly chaotic, partly humdrum.

Yours truly takes on, with grace,

All that could ever come.

After what feels like ages,

Glasses did runneth over.

Nights lit up, like in dreams,

Days passed sturdy and sober.

But today , the wise one,

Shares another lesson.

Throw everything to the wind,

But preserve some caution.

Doesn’t take much time,

For things to go down really south;

When least expected, often,

Smiles turn into ashes in the mouth.

Is it true that people cast a curse,

On their own happiness, when they focus?

Even as we all secretly know it to be true,

It is convenient  to label such thoughts as bogus.

But remember, shallow depths always pass by first,

Reaching the real stuff takes time.

And you would be held guilty,

If you mistake the froth for the wine.

In the interest of common good,

We must let hell be where it today is.

This is a pious day, let’s vow to not unleash,

The demons, that somewhere inside, exist.

To that noble thought- Cheers\m/

Indeed true!

Some things, the average mind,

Fails to decipher.

Like parabolas on fingernails,

Or how ionic bonds wither.

 

But then average minds,

Should not bother even once,

To put their fragile brains into domains,

Guarded by intellect’s canons.

 

Yes, life is a bitch,

And Karma is a whore.

But remember the historical fruits,

Resilience has always bore.

 

All that the world needs,

Is some old-school magic.

The fact that it no longer believes in it,

Makes this place- sordid, melancholic, tragic.

 

Hope is the one thing,

That even the thoroughly servile,

Must never give up on,

In order to feel truly alive.

 

Because, more often than we think,

Things that seem too good to be true,

Turn out to be ‘the’ real deal,

That we must, at all cost, pursue.

 

Silver linings

 

A typhoon must swirl,

Inside my mind,

All the time.

That is how I roll-

Cruising through nights,

Young, unperturbed and alive.

 

The scribbler within,

Wants the boy,

Albeit partially, to survive.

For too long, he’s searched,

For a story to write,

That fits his standards right.

 

For what seems like forever,

I have given him space and time,

But his attempts, all futile.

Excluding such hours,

Life’s been at ease otherwise,

A balanced, satisfying ride.

 

But an unsuspecting moment,

Has filled the void,

Right when the time was ripe.

Priorities will be on course,

Between the fall of night,

And tomorrow’s sunrise.

 

Withholding natural instincts,

Never served mankind,

So, let the adrenaline spike.

Here’s to awesomeness galore,

And keeping the game tight.

All negative plots end tonight.

Invisible designs

 

If you thought human conscience,

Was tough to predict,

Introspect about the ways,

The cosmos writes and edits.

 

Why people do, what they do,

During the times they decide so.

There’s a design, they can see,

Those who are willing to know.

 

Must be really important,

The roles they need to play.

If from a gazillion possibilities,

They are picked for you, again.

 

Life is supposed to sail through,

Irrespective of the wrath of the waves.

While steering it is our job,

Cosmic help eases the chase.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To 2024

And I thought,

Leaving some special ones behind,

Could break my heart,

Fuck up my mind.

 

In a fortnight,

I aged in ages.

Learnt it all,

From fools and from sages.

 

Men must do what needs to be done,

While others breathe to survive.

And then, some of us become legends,

Defining deeds, shaping lives.

 

And 2023 passed fine,

So many of us broke some ice.

This one ahead will shine,

And broaden your smiles. Amen!

 

I did what I had to do,

But now I must proceed.

Because though I have my plans,

Others have dire needs. 

Chill. Cheers. 

Hakuna Matata

Tonight, as I and the Poets of the fall,

Reminiscence about the beautiful ones,

In the absence of deserving words,

In these abhorable situations,

To my readers, if any,

I dedicate this gem of a song, 

I found in an epiphany-

By a guy, who for his age and belief,

Could possibly never go wrong-

https://youtu.be/SmaY7RfBgas?si=UA1ezk1XcyQvi4On

 

You know nothing

Spineless are they,

Responsibilities,

Who can’t shoulder.

Spineless are also those,

Loyalties,

Who can’t nurture.

 

But loyalty to whom?

Obligations? Or desires?

Go ahead, seek an answer.

In between the lines, maybe,

Where life transpires,

You might want to think it over.

 

But what remains solemnly true,

Over eons, through each passing year;

Is that life would have been,

So much easier,

Had we been in love,

And in life, in general,

What we are in temples-

Honest! It’s that simple.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The gift of choice

You’d ask him

Why this? Why now?

He just abhors goodbyes,

To those who matter somehow.

 

Like Priam once believed,

Of all wars he had to fight.

Only fighting for love,

Seemed sensible; seemed right.

 

Winning the war,

You can’t be sure about.

But winning battles against fear;

Befits a soul stout. 

 

You are no commander,

And he is no Gladiator,

But with forces combined,

The journey would be an adventure.

 

Doesn’t matter, if average people frown,

I tell you, with experience enough,

When responsibilities push us down,

Feelings we always shove,  

But if it comes to choice,

We must always choose love.  

In between happiness and bliss

Nothing would ever make up,

For the time he dashed through.

But regrets, he’s never held any,

Life has corrected itself always, anew.

 

And this small part of his life,

Unexpected and even though an abyss,

As Chris Gardner once felt it,

Can be termed as Happiness.

 

Luck, fate, chance;

Finally stand defeated,

By a man Godless, harmless,

A beast unabashedly unashamed.

 

But bliss is what he pursues,

And the source remains locked in;

A cup of tea might sort it all,

Distances; peripheral or within.

 

Winters may not be what he likes,

But his love is always forever.

He gives himself three days,

He knows, this story is now or never.

 

Do open the gate to your heart,

Even if this seems like a déjàvu;

Because all that’s in the way,

All that went through,

Could have never been him,

It was always you.

Love in December

 

As the days grow colder,

You seem to drift further away.

Far enough for us to not be able,

To feel, what we could! What we may!

 

They say this December,

Will be the coldest ever.

I sense it, as I look for you,

Here, there, everywhere.

 

Arctic like wilderness,

Is what each day feels like.

The excitement of love, however,  nurtures,

Hopes of a truly deserved life.

 

But as the nights grow longer,

Stronger becomes your slumber.

I’ll dig in and wait,

Not letting luck be a bummer.

 

And don’t you worry,

Even if you wake up shaken,

I am here to catch you,

Be it in hell or in heaven.

 

 I might have to leave,

When it is spring,

But always know,  

My word is a forever thing.

 

From Mondays to Sundays,

From this sunrise to the next one,

I will be here for you, always,

Like for the earth, does the Sun.

 

Resolve

He has always had a plan,

For everything, every single time.

Plans that have seldom worked,

But this habit, refuses to die.

 

But today, he makes a resolve,

To do what needs to be done.

Lo and behold! How unwarrantedly,

The dice of luck has turned.

 

Maybe, there are no perfect moments,

And perhaps, chance doesn’t suit everyone.

The pursuit of perfection, delays actions,

And the learned agree- time waits for none.

 

But the wise always tell,

It is never late to set things right.

Even if some knots persist,

Threads can be re-woven tight.

 

May seem like aliens,

The best of long-lost acquaintances.

But eyes looking down or away,

Never helped making contact.

 

The path he is on,

Leads him to distant lands,

But he remains committed,

To deliver the task at hand.

 

You know, he could never create chaos,

Whose driving desire has been peace.

You just need to look into his eyes at once,

To remember who he really is.