where have you been?
i havent seen you in a while
lets meet. exchange sordid tales of our lives
sit on the edge of the sea , sip on some caffeine 

Where have you been? 

I don’t know what your voice sounds like now

Is it still soft with love 

And dripping with innocence 

Or has age made you tired and angry

Like it did to me 

Where have you been?

My only child

The one with the eyes that grew so big

When I put you on my lap and told

You things and ideas and stories and 

Warned you about a cruel world

Come back to me. 

Meet me again

By the sea. 

Let me rock you to sleep

And kiss your soft cheeks 

any kind will do

pauses have become hours
and hours turn into days
obstinate, unwilling to end

the word hangs in balance
waiting for the moment
the moment when i decide to
stop waiting.

the word.

the word waits on the tips of my fingers
adding one last accessory
borrowed from memory
or made from music

i wait

for the days work to get done
to burn in the sun
to climb over the hills
for a cut or a bruise
for some abuse
for a stupidity
an absurdity
any kind of ecstasy 

any kind will do.

See Alice Fall

Watch her fall

her fingerprints sliding off the stone walls

her gaze brushing past the backs

that have turned

watching birds as their feet lift off the ground

past the cupcakes and poison ivy

and the dissapearing daffodils

 

She's falling falling worlds are turning,changing

color is company draining down with her

as memories rush up the walls kissing the soles of her feet

before dying in the sunlight

 

Now she's talking, laughing, spinning

upside down, swimming around

making angels in the air somersaults

and all the things she could never do

with feet firmly on the ground

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

murmurings of a meghana

on taking a break
After 3 odd years of being crazy busy, i finally took a break, sabbatical, whatever. But i don't have any exciting travel plans yet. Apparently that makes me some kind of loser. Even inside my own head. We (i mean me and people like me, you know who you are) are all so fixated on squeezing the very last drop of juice out of life that even choosing to do nothing on a holiday that we've earned is labelled as a waste of time. So I've started reading Bertrand Russel's 'in praise of idleness' essay hoping to find well, some kind of validation for the choice to do nothing. Let's see where that goes.


on the word 'poetry'
So i write poetry of some kind occasionally. but every time i say that word, i cringe. It feels kind of pretentious to say 'i write poetry' when all i really want to say is some simpler, less-loaded word for 'short bursts of careless, grammatically incorrect, garbled streams of thought'. because that's all that it is really. And its enough.


On the 'what-if' question

When someone starts a sentence with what if?, i know its going to be good. because what if always precedes an idea. And ideas make everything more interesting. You start talking, it becomes a conversation and then a possibility and maybe even a plan. Just like that. All because someone said what if. I'd recommend asking the what if question at least twice a day without thinking too much about it. Because you never know what's going to happen.

back soon, gym now :)

3 pure veins & a razor sharp tongue

the beast plunges deep

and rises like a black phoenix

from the ashes made by your light

that sliced through my shadows

 

blood is black lava

roaring through my gut 

burning everything in its wake

my heart & my will 

 

it spills on white sun 

tearing its pure skin 

setting me free 

settling me still 

 

here i will be

in a place of no eyes

to see my charred skin 

& no ears to hear 

the defeat within 

 

when 3 pure veins

meet a razor sharp tongue 

everything will come undone 

 

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

1:51

this curve, this drop

this curse, this kiss

this gentle lift 

this deadly beat 

like sand & stone melting heady 

 

move or swim  

slow and stop 

jerk to pause 

snap hard

break down 

drown 

 

everything you can ever feel 

like blood rushing to your head

swarming around you 

engulfing every skin 

drawing you inside

deep within 

 

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

infinite - written in 2005

in this world of shadows and words
i see the light and language
in this empty palm of my hand i see you resting your chin gently
amongst the bourbon coloured skin and cheery red eyes
there is a thread of you and i

something indefinite ,something infinite seems to rest
something real runs with me and lives in me
this moment lives like an era , never shaking never breaking
this faith grows like a gentle beast

arms run around each other three times and then stop
i wait patiently on neck and shoulder
wait for his drooping eyes of sorrow and mist
to look down at me and whisper something desperate
and when it comes.. the inifinte stretches further beyond... the

horizon falls away

revealing a feather floating in the wind.

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

Re:

http://drselda.com/cool01.11.php?ID=957

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

semi life

sometimes cracks appear on my semi life

ants crawling in get under my skin 

refusing to die 

a colony grows there 

feeding on my fear

calling on the rain 

 

sometimes there's a sun so bright 

it blinds out every dark morsel 

and the ocean curls lovingly under my feet

every speck shows off its beauty 

colors bursting only for my absolute delight 

 

Today i'm on the precipice

of dark and light 

wondering where i will free fall 

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

pick out your cloud

digging deep inside a forest 

a sea of black blue green and yellow 

every color 

of our skin 

reflects in the moonlight 

beneath the dense 

over by the lake the pebbles shiver 

in the cold 

as the ripples swoon 

in perfect harmony 

 

to the sound of a wailing storm 

of minds cut in words 

of love sliced penniless

of paths colored in ink 

uniting nothing, dividing our time 

into lightplays & rain 

this is me

and me is you 

and you is me

and the storm is ours

to hold and to have 

till death do us part

 

pick out your cloud. 

 

 

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

swan dive

toes touch the metal cold and warm 

finger tips hold on tight 

eyes closed

abnormal 

beautiful 

swan dive 

into the blue 

 

stirring the cold 

waking up the leaves

slumber lust left behind

for the love of eyes of wide open

everything she sees

grey and true 

all i can hear is you 

in the ferocity of the wind 

cut loose

falling free

with me 

 

 

 

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

are you

are you old

old enough 

to know the difference between

a strawberry and a tart 

 

Are you bold 

bold enough 

to know when to stand up and 

when to give in

 

 

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

this is how this feels

with no more 

no more pain or tears

here we go 

on a a wheel round 

and round

 

every spin, every circle we make

takes us someplace new 

buckleup 

cause this will be unforgettable

the climb we rise 

the peaks we soar 

the lifts and the falls

it flows

so smooth 

watching us from below

the whole world

smiling and crying 

everyone wants to be us. 

 

we are so new

so crisp so fresh 

nothings gonna touch us

we kiss like pink 

we touch like brown melting into an orange orange sun 

we are inventing everything again 

and wind wont move

and rain wont fall

and touch wont feel 

and lips won't speak 

till the sunshine touches water

and our colors remake the air 

 

 

 

 

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

there will be blood

there will be blood

on the hands of those

who deny justice

who fall prey to vile manipulations

& selfish desires 

 

There will be blood 

on the hands of those

who take away years & years

of hope & hard work 

with a single wicked tear 

 

There will be blood 

on that hands of those

who blind with morality 

who shatter a ray of light 

with a double edged sword 

 

there will be blood

you have been warned

 

 

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

where is the beauty?

lifelong dreams 

tantalizingly close & slipping away fast 

sinking deep into the clutter 

of the things we don't need 

of the people that don't matter 

of illusions of ourselves

of a million pointing fingers 

& role models & doppelgangers  

 

the words are trapped

by eyes waiting & watching

by tentacles of argument

by conflicts of relevance & beauty 

by too many choices

by too many to please 

 

No matter how much blood

no matter how many screams

no matter how dark & rich 

the scene becomes

its always the same 

lies wrapped in red lipstick 

nothingness covered in satin sheets 

& real beauty hidden in a cloak of shame

 

 

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

poison oil

poison oil

slipped under my skin

when noone was looking

slithered into my blood

found the heat growing in my heart

& exploded

 

now everything inside

is all blown up

shards and shards of inside-me

that pierce right through 

scattered in places i can't find

 

all because

of that poison oil

that seeped in

when noone was looking

 

 

 

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

Mumbai rickshaw city

Love this one. happened entirely by chance. my fav in the series

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

Posterous | Black & White motorbike

zooming past the rickshaw

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

Posterous | Blurry signboard

Single signboard somewhere in the picture. Cue to take a left for home

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous

rickshaw & road

Taken from the blackberry 8900.
First in a series of blurry sepia & black & white images on the road from work to home

Posted via email from trippyhippy's posterous