Sunset Boulevard

i like creating images. i set them up - rearview mirror glances, purple sunsets and city silhouettes, sullen boys in dusty corners, a girl with no shadow on a train to nowhere - where do they all come from? i see moths circling the lone streetlight and i think fire and ice. i see you staring into the distance and i think black pellets of rain. i see god and i think pain.

i like creating images. i want to see them unfurl into blank portions of time, filling it up, like a jug of water that fills a little cup. ghosts dont get rid of themselves, you see. peacemakers, lovers, painters - they celebrate them ghosts. i dont like to look at it that way. what's to celebrate. you leave behind what's gone and you create new pictures. its freshman year now and suddenly you've graduated and out looking for a job. i dont like to look back, no.

but i like to create images.

Free verse

Reticent. Pushed up against a stone cold wall. Your palm tracing windtrails across my hair and you whisper little words. Words that I already know. It's as if the globe's falling in a huge arc and we're falling into it, breakneck speed and whirling feet, we go straight into the centre of it all, your eyes on mine, and our fingertips crushed together. Point of contact.

And there are trusty sidekicks stalking backyards and graves - toilet trained, dizzy made, help upright by one thought. A search for that something MORE. And I see you walk away from it. Knowing it full in the face, I see you running away from ideals and traces of color that shade collective, trusting, incompetent minds.

And I'm somewhere at the pinnacle. Slights and rage, trysts and haze, your resounding chuckle saved away. It's as if I don't know what I'm doing but how could I not? You're telling me. Again. Repeatedly. Like slippery pearls on the floor that run away from you. I could be wrong except that I'm not. But suddenly you tip and I fall at once, compliant.

Fallacies of the night

Shadows closing in slow, time churning outward

Spiral bliss, tonal disarrangements

Awaiting results, your smile.

Somewhere you sit, deep in thought

Won't you call out, so I can come take you home?

Forlorn

Its been quiet the enervating week. From driving down Bangalore roads at 1:00 a.m. to dinner plans that ALWAYS run late to waiting around dull corners at dull streets with only Steven Wilson and the Bellamy boy for company - I long for a bed that's just mine.

V thinks I get carried away too easily. It's true to a point. I need something else to focus on than people. Which is why I am starting driving lessons next week. Apart from the reason that I need to learn to drive so I can soonly get a car and then shall I terrorize the pedestrians of the city. -smirk-

The days are spinning out of my hand in quick succession, leaping out in reds and greens and transcient blacks and I keep running into a giant wall every time I even begin to wonder if all this is heading somewhere. I should be home. The hidden blue walls, that green curtain that hides just about nothing, the quilt that is never dry, Slash calling to me from over my head, the flame throwing pink lamp, Chai's presence in absence, Mum's impish grin, Dad's giant hugs - it's all tugging incessantly but here I am, convinced that my place is here, in this city that refuses to let me be.

And you sang last evening. Something fervent, something tragic, something yearning. Dewdrop smiles and split second laughter. All captured and stored. You are the only reason I'm still here. It's strange that what gives meaning to this moment, is the same reason that's leading me away from any semblance of reality or normalcy, rendering my existence quiet obsolete for now. Maybe it's my imagination. Maybe it's you. Maybe it's Fate. Yeah right.

Edits

* Walking down Commercial Street, while it's raining, is the bestesht way to spend a lazy evening. Especially with the mad bunch that I hang out with.

* I am technologically challenged as well. Took me fifteen minutes to figure Twitter out.

* Heartache's overrated.

* Maybe a new haircut would help, yes?

* Musicians are hot. I cannot get over it. -shakes head- Nopes. Definitely can't get over it.

* I'm stalking Neil Gaiman. He's funny.

* Never leave wallet out of sight. Especially before getting stuck with three idiots for the night.

* I dreamt of a giant bee. And I remembered you. And I remembered my foolishness. And I smiled.

* Pretty boys are pissing me off.

* Vimal's a Christmas tree post Christmas.

I have reasons to forget
And a right to remember.

I walked past a monument
Glancing at its destruction for a moment
Minute.

I reflected on the old
And let the new remain
Trying to stay away
Trying to remain unchanged.

I decided
A thought, lopsided
I communicated
A memory, undermined.

I know only what I see in your eyes
I believe in every human that's right
I tear at my skin when the words dont come
I fear unreasonably when the lights go down.

But even big worlds crumble
Where lies my poor soul then?

Conquerors in a trashed out world

Cold and ecstatic, we stand, disfigured

Thoughts that run to you, only you

When did I forget? I am you.

Defeated

Thwarting forward intenions

Mistaken identities walk free

Jaded by quests for unattainable power

Souls warp.

Content in her misery she stays

Forward and backward

The rhythm always the same

She laughs when she bleeds.

He's wary but tired

A penchant for the ugly

He stares bewitched

When she stumbles listless.

One man's fall, another man's pride

One woman's disgrace, a man'sprize.

Where does the river take us

Are you willing to find out?

iLike

fat puppies
with floppy ears.
sleeping cats
with their swishing
tails.
sigh

chocolate icecreams
with bournvita powder toppings
and gems.
yumm

curly hair.
collars open at the
throat.
rolled up sleeves.
nonchalance n sarcasm.
heartbeat stopping
smiles.

the sound of
distorted crunchy guitars
make me so wet.

wild sex
and talking
in the
afterglow.

i know i'll hear you
when the lights go out.

Sunset ports with chasing boats
Right wing lords out for a quick vote
First raindrops to a summer old
A rat's world, there's a straight road.

"When the world's sleeping
I dream of you."

horny

Kites and ties, love and dime
Race and games, cry and shame
Whores and stores, men and gore
Trade and made, hid and said.

I want you in the weirdest of times...