Introducing Bo

Meet Bo, the omnipresent, omniscient, omnipotent pseudo God, half Satan.

Bhow, bhow,
Oh my God, its Bo!
You only reap what you sow
You have hairy palms, no?
We shall go - play with Play Doh
Hona hai jo, hone do.
Listen to the crow crow
The Indian Space Research Organisation is called ISRO
You rise when its dark
The heavens break apart
And quote to thee,
Lucifer's child, the ant clark
[Six, six six! The number of the Beast!]
Prepared is thy zoic feast
Thy arrows :
Will through bone marrow
And call to blithe mortals in a low baritone
'Minions, Armageddon nears
Look to the heavens, fear oh fear'
Bo, neo Zeus
Aam, seb, ganna juice
Das rupay, paanch rupay, teen rupay glass
Aao piyo, bahut hai khaas
A glass of sang-froid stands prepared
Vlad [the Impaler] hath not better fared
Slitting the throats of a thousand kind
Slaying more monsters than you can find
Woe betide thee oh Earth and Sea
O Bo, please set us free.

[Yes, I'm back.
Will reply to comments tomorrow though, I'm awfully sorry and awfully tired too. ]

[And the *cough* exquisite poetry is courtesy the us :


l-r, that's Nik, me and Rad. In case you're planning to sue for mental harassment, just er.. forget this. You're hallucinating. Really. :|]

Untitled

Nestled under the
......bougainvillea bough,
A sliver slides down
......a branch of brown;
A cocoon of hurt
......left midst a walk
Falls into the dust,
......Futile.
The monsters of wrath
......have fallen;
The aqueous bullets
......have slain.
And as I look up to the heavens:
......I breathe in the rain.

Winters

Golden streams cascading down
My eyes bow low before who
Lulling me softly to a world beyond
The rich amber an intoxicating dream

Early morning tingles
A shiver upon my brow
Cold marble beneath my feet
A lazy ether locked tightly in a jar

Hot soup and Parmesan sprinkles
Guised alien woolen quadruplets
Long hot water baths
Extra large Fries

Human puffballs
Five-minute-more naps
Five-rupee-coffee breaks
Five-AM dark skies
Five-PM fiery hues

Rediscovering winter-y songs
Deja vu
Losing yourself
Peek-a-boo with life
Thought treks
Oddities and oddness
Contentment.

Tic Tap Toe

A drop of clear
Glistens, and escapes the pored steel;
Rests on the finger edge,
Hesitatingly.
Unsure, cowardly.
But joined by a droplet new,
The show off then gets his cue;
And a journey begins.

Is it too late for an introduction?

[Alright, so I realised my first post isn't really a first post so as to speak.Fine, so it tells you a lot about who I am [read:lame, warped out, and well, dumb at times, the kinda person you'd roll you eyes at] but it doesn't say anything about who I am.So,here.you.go. :) ]

I think
More than I speak;

I imagine
More than I do.

But I celebrate
More than I lament;

That is why
I am.

I stop
More than I proceed;

I gaze
More than I look.

But I live
More than I wish;

And that is why
I am.

Light & Dark

May the light of vision,
Conquer the dark,
The glorious ever echoing beams,
Never waver,
And shine through
Your life.


[Not an sms :D]

Happy Diwali!

PS : At the talk I had to give the fifth standard on the Environment Club's Anti-Cracker Campaign.

Me : So why do you burn crackers anyway?

Random fifthie : Because it prevents dengue!

Me, write? iType.

This is for Prerna, ref: the comment on the last post :)

I write
Strings of words
Multi layered strains
Meaningful chains
Mutilated veins
And abrupt endings.

You know...no,you don't

Open my eyes
To blinding light
To scorching truth
To endless sight

Let me fall
Into the realms of black
Home of soul; nest of dreams
Let the saga then unfold
Let my eyes meet my soul

And then I will see
With quiet content
The vision not
Of what I could be
But of the being
I have become.



[If its any help in understanding it, I have a power of -2.75.Now read it again :P ]

Lost and found

Darkness.
A stifling silence
Envelops the night.
It deafens.



A lone star
Shining through the clouds
Hope beckons.



But the night has but begun
And fear,
Fear crawls stealthily,
Moving its wily feet swiftly.
Silhouetted against the cinder black:
Grasping me.
Tearing me from within.



Then
A voice beckons,
Golden.
It streams through the darkness-
Embracing it,
Destroying it;
And then, in an unmistakable murmur,
It says,


'This blog is not dead.'






Mwahahaha.

BOARDS. Pfft.

In the abyss
With darkness closing around me;In a bottomless chasm,
Aching to be set free.

Slayed by the diabolo;
Solitary.Ruinous.Coerced.
I traverse the hell hole,
Compelled by fate; cursed.



Boards.




ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And then you expect us to be sane??!!

Its always been a universally accepted fact that the CBSE has never exactly been......well.....normal.I mean, look at the syllabus for instance.The same poem we did last year is there in the Orient Longman Grade 2 textbook.Says a lot for the standard of things.But this happens to be something way unexpected.

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful -- The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall. It is pink, with speckles.
I have looked at it so long I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.

Now I am a lake.
A woman bends over me, Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully. She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.


-Sylvia Plath

"............................Sylvia suffered from bouts of severe depression throughout her life. She had entered Smith College on a scholarship in 1950, but in the summer of 1953, after her return from a guest editorship at Mademoiselle magazine in New York, she experienced a severe episode of depression and was treated with a regimen of electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) and, subsequently, at the beginning of her junior year, on August 24, 1953, she made the first of her suicide attempts. She was committed to a mental institution, and seemed to make an acceptable recovery, graduating from Smith in 1955, the same year she won the prestigious Glascock Prize competition for her poem "Two Lovers And A Beachcomber By The Sea." She later depicted her breakdown in her semi-autobiographical novel The Bell Jar."

The suicide attempts didn't stop.Know how she finally died?

By sticking her head in an oven.

My sister, the un-poetess.

Topic : My teenage sister.
: Vaidika W.

My teenage sister is a pain in the neck,
Due to her irritation I'm a complete (w)reck.
She surfs on the net all the time,
I'm asking her with what this'll rhyme.
What was the answer, I never knew..
For I, myself couldn't guess too.

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