dicing

dead deeds dress damp dandy daredevils doing dangerous downsizing downtown during dawn dragging dense drab desolate dumps down dimmer dung dinners directly double daring deceiving daft dancing dandelions disappearing deeper district decked dangling darker drinking dashboard draping dashing discriminators drowning daggers digging dust dissing deaf dumb desk dreary detective drawing dazzling disco divas dubbed disturbing drifting dazed directed dismembered dummies.

nonsense is

what people with limited verbal audacity
use often in their conversations.
the temporal lobe doesn't feature
in the same sentence or even in the next,
or after that....let's leave it at.
the fruit juice was nice, the mums and dads are
fine and the evening meal plans are discussed
over and over again with energy.
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is that what it looks like?
yes it is.

fonts and calligraphy

the telephone was wounded
by the microphone  next to a tombstone
with the grave ripped open.
it was mid afternoon when the sun isn't
in the mood for photography so all
the enthusiasts returned home,
leaving the telephone to it's misery.

fine words

is like a dog that jumped off the building.
that feeling creeps in again;
the time i minced my words in front of a friend,
felt like a hypocrite, being one isn't the point.
life is about feelings and emotions and all
the other types of sensations such as
fear of heights,
or having a taste for bugs and other such bites,
it is a rather nice feeling of belonging
where
you are most unwelcome.

out of sight out of focus.
the shoe prints outside the corridor slowly disappear,
the shadows in the corners fade,
the clothes tear, shred and dissipate.
dim the lights, we've got the frame.

mid morning at the clock

The dangers of planet awake is staggering.
In the landscape of the sheets,between the contours,
i lie very still,
listening to the gods of water and air in the city of my room,
  

half awake, in my bed, sleeping

my bed yawns when
she wakes us up at dawn.
every morning is the same,
when i take a shower with the same water
that was pouring out of the shower head
yesterday,.
the guitar is always lazily leaning by the wall,
smirking at me so i turn and look somewhere else.
there is no relief, i feel uneasy around brittle toothpaste,
the crazy cupcake tries to strangle me again
and the front door handle screams as i clutch it and
walk out the door.
the objects are as weird as people and positions are equally false.

there's no time

i know a group of people who call themselves
the 'fictionalists'.
they don't believe in time,
or so they tell me.
i hear the werewolf's wail, it's argument is
sure but stale like fairy tales,
whereas,
their voices are melodic but unconvincing.

i hold a view which considers
time to be solid like a wall that separates
you from me.
their argument is loosely constructed on the principles of
alcohol intake, getting shitfaced and blurting out
illogical theories surely stemming out of insecurities
faced by people alone.
these people don't know how to breathe,
i can't preach to them because i live by theories too,
no one yet has broken them,
the path is obstructed by time and it's obsolete
bestiality,it's never been friendly.
therefore,
no two people can be lovers,
nor can a group with a cause drink together.

gargoyles in my living room, the flies in my chair

life sized nightmare.
gothic horror that i relished
in books,has become a reality.
the sheer magnitude of my
fright is incomparable to the time when
my dear friend had to converse with a
bug swatting fly with equations to solve.

with the incident in mind i tread carefully
across the hall and look into nature,
when the garden gargoyle starts peeing
in my living room, fucking monster!!
but i don't raise my voice above a whisper.

with a careless swagger, it reanimates
the fly whose reputation precedes itself
then begins chatter on various subjects,
touching briefly on the weather.

 i have the fortunate luck of getting
a glimpse of myself in the mirror,a second later,
and realize that i'm not ordinary myself,
a slight memory lapse clears itself,
after which i charge at the unwanted company
of oddities and make my self right at home
taking the conversation by the reins. 

the disaster in small things and birds

disaster strikes in my clothes
and the way i smell in the morning,
the clouds have intricate patterns
that give me a headache
and a friend talks in an alien dialect
that only the self appointed elite
understand and so converse
furiously under the naked, frustrated
sun and to my irritation, there are
anomalies in my coffee,the nearby shrubs
whisper eerily which rattles me.
facing the trolls,moles, coffee tables and the suave
table lamp will be a difficulty for the rest of the evening.

 

blind focus

it's a very dear cause
and my celebrity status is
somewhat questionable but
still i raise money for animals
to be tortured.
the city's blind focus, my neighbor is
camera clicked and the facebook status climbs
the charts, a million likes.
the street is a rush of alcohol
and weed enlightenment for the losers,
my coke and LSD is not your experience
i'm the fucking dice in the market,
 i love being thrown around but
i'll make sure i'll get paid for it.

the drawer

the drawer is not an inanimate object
which is stationary but a friend
who has artistic tendencies which is
like the holy spirit outpouring.
i talk to her everyday and
share the lighter for the ever burning
cigarettes that creates a halo
around our heads.
she's insane in a very subtle, underhanded manner,
it surprises me every time
and has favorite words she repeats
over and over again.
after five minutes,
i turn on the t.v in the room
to cooking shows
and we pretend to watch them together.

happiness is everywhere

the dinnertime music is out of character
and food is scarce but we still dance.
lots of wine, beer and haggard faces
swimming in the dim apartment lights
even the bathroom is occupied.
we are impatience highlighted,
lazy bastards,
dark swines with sharp and swift tales,
the skills of a flightless bird
with it's arrogance.
the music is sour and us become
acquaintances and before the beat ends
turn into intimate friends
with lavish secrets never told before, though
recalled again and again as soon as
the song deadens, the bodies drop dead
and swim in successful disillusionment.

lets dance

you may have seen me
around town,
I've seen
seen you too, when
we intersect in common bars
and light cigarettes outside
the place like displays and advertisements
and groove to classics with a pinch of bitter
in our clothes and throw ourselves against the wall
in cheap anger and discontent
and tear like paper and weep,
then you
and i hold each other
like entwined souls in smoky real time.
.

friendly dancer

the clubs are filled with frogs and slimy fishes,
the music drips like snort and drinks
are free and dizzy as looking straight at the sun.
But this time, the dance floor was saved,
baptized with fire by the friendly dancer
and the streets were clean again.
wicked timing.

book breaks like coffee breaks and ciggerate breaks

dense fog and mist encircle my books.
the birds chirp in an unruly fashion
outside in the air, like ecstatic stoners.
the pajamas and bed covers from last night
hang on the strings, blowing with the wind.
every little secret is opened and flung in the air
and they hover like helicopters, like interesting
faces and deep voices that some wait in corners
and hide in cafes to watch and listen to. 

turn right to left

In a fictional time,
a character runs the race
 in a rustic old western town
where most of my friends belong,
and it feels like lost and found memories,
the times when i belonged there too.
too painful now,as i make up stories,
to remember.
Then,
an in-depth field researcher who
is ancient and lost
finds the backyard of my mind
and disappears.

nice nights

i'm always enjoying pleasant nights.
In my mind, the door is ajar and the
sky brings in beautiful lights.
Heaven is cool with floodlights
for the evening breakers,
There's time for everything,
all that i can think of doing
and the dog's barking
is welcoming.

i'm not a bore, that woman/man is.

i entertain regularly on Thursdays
all of you are witnesses.
i don't have anything wise to say
but i'm polite and smile at everyone's way
and exit through the balcony
and fly away.
            it's no talltale.

my fish went down the cat's mouth

i wasn't paying attention
because i'm usually not around
then this tragedy strikes.
such as i wasn't prepared for...
who will be my friend now??

everyday life is

everyday is like this.
everybody is confused,they are dammed.
the sugar disappears from
the coffee, the measure of salt
is on the floor,the sea is dark,
in shadows, the day hides.
the sun is just a machine
and your face is a blank canvas.