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August 24 My mothers TongueOh what bliss, Im blessed with every word I utter,
Those words, rich and unique like my mother,
There is no other, Im sure its true, no cover.
Her words she spoke into me, born into her tongue,
This is my mothers tongue, so me , give me more, I beg.
Speak , cry, love your mothers tongue,
dream, live and if not not anything, die.
For your Mothers Tongue, is all you are,
Your soul, and your whole ,is so in her words,
After birth, into this wrechedness, its solace,
Its Divinity, two thousand years, still in place.
My mothers Tongue, still my identity,
Run ,struggle, juggle into someonelses kitty,
And when you return, its her pure serenity,
My last dance, a certain craving in any party,
Give me my Mothers tongue, into the ruins of my city.
P.s all you people...................... just for a second speak your
Mothers Tongue......for once and tell me about its Bliss.
Vazgha Tamizh
July 29 Paper Jesus......On the wall, off the altar, and inbetween your breasts,
He hangs a man, dead or about to be, for your sins.
In the palace , inside the mansion, his image for salvation,
He pulls his picture, saves you from damnation.
In this geometry, his dimesions, I see the Paper Jesus,
His story so mind made in nature, the world knows,
My foes, so earth made in pain, on your face it shows,
Mine is yours, yours is yours too, its always in the news.
Your peace i dont need, and the needed didnt get it either,
Your salvation I cant digest, your heaven i dont want to enter,
Our machines never saved your sons, nor a single daughter,
Our imaginations gave you names, and Im not the only loner.
Why is it that your Paper Jesus, time and again only mourns,
Is it a readymade answer, for your world that always and only bleeds,
My world was not made by you, gagged emotions, onesided reflexes,
Your books and mine have no connections, Im a human, dying on a daily basis.
Inverted MeYes! the sun shined like she just gave birth to something,
Something so powerfull, something thats all light.
The inverted me, startled with hope,between hell and will,
Then came the blasphemy, that was bottled in for a while
Sweet pain, holy death, and the crimson blood, religeous kill.
Pathetic to the inverted me, passionate to the circus town,
Why then are you still inhaling the sin, and exhaling the dead?
Now those are questions, with answers, no sacred scribe
No pontif's wiggling tail, no paper that bleeds and no one to lend.
Bend here and kiss his feet, raise there and slit his throat.
So inverted, so inverted, it smells of burning flesh,
So inverted, so inverted, it hails when they will finish. July 18 Having Fun?They called out, when I heard them, it was too late.
It was so late, that I could hear the sound of thier lungs explode,
I crumbled down, into the spiral, into the ruins of hope.
And when natural light started shining, its cowardly vibrance dead,
Just Dead like them, silence and its criminal bond
Was scatered all around me, I could not breath,
Could not stand, but that was just the begining,
Women, in black overalls, gathered around me, thier eyes moist,
Not for me, but for the colour of my skin, not one of them,
Yet lying with thier dead, someone's left hand to my immediate wright,
His silver citizen said half past twelve, when my tongue tasted water.
I drank the whole clay pot, then someone tried to lift me, wasted.
The people I came with screaming in pain, Why wasnt I?
The thought rang a bell in my still working mind, my head , it ached.
I lifted my head to find my lower half completely covered with human reamins,
Were they limbs, muscles, or internal organs my mind questioned my eyes.
No answers were sent back, as I reclined, the stench worked its way to my nose,
With similar questions,sent to and fro, without any answers, I was now awake.
I tried to gather and walk, fearing if I still had legs to do so,
With a gentle push, I was now sitting with those remains on my own lap,
And yes it was a pile of all that we call a fully grown human,
I reckon a girl , raveged into pieces, torn to the very bit and on me.
The fear of it all gripped my spine as i felt the warmth of my blood,
Tricking down my left armpit, I didnt know from where or how
Using my hands I tried to lift off the remains, I could not,
And as I collapsed again, I rememberd the last words I had uttered over
Just a few minutes before one of the dead , comitted sucide .........
I'd asked someone with all the content and joy......."Having Fun?" January 22 Rented Souls.............................................Alas when the creaking sound from the Engine fails,
We will wash the tyranny with our sins and guns.
Far from the council, and into the western winds,
lets walk past like captured and tamed beasts, with no means.
As the instinct waves good bye and settles for somelses crown,
We wont drown or die, but shall fill our lungs till the dawn.
The dimensions outside, and those inside were only soan,
So lets harvest, into and beyond we shall march till its known.
April 18 The AbyssBelow,into the depth of all that I once belived,
I took a dip,the colours ran like blood,thick and dead,
The imaginations from the time,that now seems eroded,
Are just the fragments of me,that for myself I made.
So with tremors up my spine,and tears down my memory lane,
There's an ounce of pain,which I again bite ,in vain.
From cradles of faith to gutters of indulgence,I mourn,
From anguish to apathy,I Just beg to be gone.
October 26 So this time I again faded,
Fading to be reborn,
fading to be reincarnated,
fading to be what once existed
So here is where I fade
clairvoyant
July 13 Talking about Varnasi In Me
Quote Varnasi In Me .And this time I dissappear.... June 14 . Episode- 1
As darkness grew close,He saw her presence only to be mesmerized,
Slowly his memories knocked back,with mist and looked painted.
He reclined and moved towards her,eager and his arms streched,
His body,it still ached,but his mind with known might it marched
Her existence was to him,a possesion so much he priced.
The friction of his palm on her self,opened doors,to him that he knew only mourned,
Now that he had her,into the void he smiled,and was halfdead.
He grabed her,paid for her and laid themselves on his bed.
His eyes sang Mozart,as he neared her,overwhelmed and appetized,
He took her delecately,somewhere close to his left wrist and pierced,
As her needle head entered him,her little bite it pricked,
He knew she had penetrated deep into him,with all that she had.
In this moment,at the peek of his orgasm,he threw her emptiness back into the dead,
As he sank into his self made quicksand................I saw him getting FIXED.
(Note:This was a episode,there were a lot of them,there will be a lot of them,there will be everything that was there yesterday,today and tomorrow but HE...............is no more.He is an Episode.R.I.P bro,I owed you one.)
May 22 ALL APOLAGIESWhen the going gets tough,tough gets going.
Sorry .............I really cant help it.
I,m kinda busy with a lot of things..........that my mind has unwillingly started to cope with.
Yes, I will be back
Frustrated
Clairvoyant April 28 Riddle................You! yes you...I see the Riddle that is you,
With Awe!.......trying to solve the riddle that is me.
I remember your words ,coated with a million false,
Just the way I remember my own.........as psuedo as it is.
That mask of yours ,so indegeniously perfect,
Like mine ! it might fade any day..............future as they call it.
Behind your everything I hear your questions,
Yes! the ones I think ,I'l take to my burial shroud.
Outwardly a warrior ,I see your inner defeat.
The pain of it still wet , and raining in my head.
Like the fears,that knock so slowly,every sunrise.
Across that cheerfull hood I see you are sad,
Sad like the rest of the Riddles ,that I've seen.
You! yes you.........do you see the Riddle that is me,
With Awe,have you solved the ridle that is YOU....................?
April 18 Screams.....I hear screams,from the ghosts that have haunted me,
The ones, in the mirror,I always see.
I hear screams ,from the child thats playing,
On the streets of desire,where I always sing.
I hear screams, from the hypocrite, hide'n deep undercover,
Voiding in the closet of guilt,where I always face my murderer
I hear screams,from the destitute,who sleeps inside,
The self made cage, where I always wake up dead.
I hear screams,from the victim of his own Holocaust,
Concentarted in a camp, where I always fight.
I hear screams, from the crusader within,
The gates of this holy city,that I have always known.
I hear screams, from the Ceaser within,
Stabed by his own Brutus,always ,when I count my sin.
I hear screams..............I hear screams,
I hear screams...............I hear screams,even in my dreams.
, March 25 Stone Cold Queen.As the sound from the guitar,begins to diminish,
She begins to work up my spine,like I was in Eden.
Skillfully easing me to the dimensions..........I adore,
On sweat, her fingers pierce through,
Directly into my Heart.......she's the witch brewing me.
My shivers and moans,are symphony to the Stone Cold Queen
I'm with the Stone Cold Queen,somewhere beneth the shadow of the Moon.
Cradling me in her arms,as my thoughts begin to levatate,
Into to the long forgotten scars,in my mind.......that still bleed,
Her voice she breaths, into the being in me,
Like rain to barren land,I'm with the Stone Cold Queen.
Like a Messiah to some lost and sinfull nation,
I'm stripped naked of my torment,with the Stone Cold Queen.
Let the system commit sucide, I'l die with the Stone Cold Queen................ March 16 Civilization...................Excavting into the remains of my mind,
I discover a civilization,so uninhabited.
Deep into the rainforests of my mind,
I excavate a civilization,that,once flourished.
Colours of this lost civilization,yet so green,
Rich with its dead,buried somewhere down within,
Wet with memories,tresures that were never stolen.
Into the Mecca of this excavated civilization,
I dig deep for a nation,that once was my own.
And how I wish,to ,gather up and walk alone,
To weep and relive the dreams,that was once known.
Presentance is a pest,I growl and moan.
Excavating into the heritage and culture,thats gone,
I'm the lonely citizen,to ever walk the nation...............of my lost civilization.
New Age Consumer.Skyscrapers,monster trucks and St.Peter's Square,
Their owners are what make of the New Age Consumer.
All the Trumps and Pimps ,swearing on their scriptures,
Convincingly clasify in, to make the New age Consumer.
Celebrities,Page3 socialites,and the most dangerous prisoner,
Locked up,somewhere in the New Age Alcatraz,
Are individuals,that make the cult of the New Age Consumers.
Mothers in grocery stores,Dads into monetary erections,
Scavengers by the roads,chemists in thier exstasic labs,
Actively congregate to make ,the New Age Consumer.
Countless million souls ,all hived on this globe,
Making the generation,that makes the solution soluble,
Call the King he's a New Age Consumer ........Too. March 13 Varnasi In MeSons of Darkness,Sultans of Satanic Mujahedeen,
Feasting on your bombed Corpses,of mutilated children,
Slaving yourself into your self made Quran.
Bomb my world,drink from its Blood,
Bomb your brother,just what your Prophet had said.
Massacre Me...........Blow every holy place that used to be.........
Your RDX and Hand Granides will never kill the Varnasi In Me.........
All you Devil Incarnates,or otherwise simply called Terrorists,
Warriors of Psuedo Faith,behind your turbans...........you Urban Cannibals,
Fire into me ,relish the skin that used to be,
Your Cults,Videotapes and Guns,will never kill the Varnasi In Me.
All your Leaders and all your Laden's That have come to be.........
Crucify the Religion In me,Kill the Human in me.........
Your Rage will never erase the Varnasi In Me..........
March 08 FairyTaleOnce a upon a time,In a place that woke up to Church Bells, There was a only child,learning to think, His thoughts so complicated ,His Parents lost long nights, He grew up ,wrestling He-Man with a wooden Elephant, On those Big Days, He was sure ,of a pair of Baggy Pants, And a rather larger pair of shoes ,to go with. He ate the best,and in school ,was bullied, Until ,one day ,he lost it .............and thats when he learnt to fight, Learnt his addition and multiplications,and thats when he learnt to count. Everything was palced perfectly,in his tresure chest of Innocence, He did'nt even know about this tresure chest,inside of Him, And some Sad Friday morning,He saw Him lose His tresure,galore That Friday morning marked the End .........of His short FairyTale.........and thats for sure. WomenAll you Women ...................I salute Thee.........All the women in my Life............I love Thee.
The creation so Profile,so beuatifull,so complicated,so desolutioned,.............And a day for You.
Day or no,you are the mainpart of Natures Masterpiece called Life............
Analyse Thee
To all that means so much.................Womanhood
LOVE............Savio March 07 HellWithinInto the abyss, of my soul.................I crawl,
Scavenging for peace and her sisters..........I fail.
Drakness my only crown, pain my sword,
I am the hailing King Nothing of, my world.
The world.............Where misery is the most sweetest,
Grief is my nation,with everlasting tears,its always moist.
One million battles,fought and lost,
This HellWithin makes me forever the mightiest.
The fires of my Hell,are now,my trustfull weapons,
The battles I've lost,make my penance.
Fear my nation,because I am its only citizen,
Trust it ,because its governed by pain...............
Still in the abyss of my soul....................I hail,
With HellWithin,I set high.................my sail. |
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