Project Pathos -5

Time, I have been with you
This long and so much less
To build upon a life
Full of lies

And I have walked the road
All alone and with a few
For a long journey
to an end where it all dies

Music, I have tried to write
A sweet note, a small rhyme
For a song
I could keep on your shrine

Love, I have tried to gain
Into sadness of your eyes
For the reflection
Of dreams which beguiled.

P.S: Gist.

Project Pathos- 4

On these streets I have traversed many times,
Behind the corridors the days were spent yawning
Waiting for the weekend evening to dawn

Now the years have flipped by
And moments have stretched, grown old
It’s something to do with memories, so, now I am told

There was moment, across the road,
A coffee corner, where the youth used to stroll,
Now it s busy corner, fancy cars parked for fancy grocery store

From few miles ahead, you can smell the sea
Hear her roar,
it is still the same and better than the musk, I am asked to adore

Further ahead, the minarets stand over the islet
Isolated from the crowd of land, peaceful abode in the sea
By its side, its now crowded
I can hear over the voice of ocean,
the lovers, the old, gossiping, whispering, talking loud
and here and there a few lost in thoughts, I am sure
wondering of times that used to be.

PS: Haji Ali

Project Pathos- 3

Reasons to these songs,
Words of hope, deep despair
Standing in the midst of clouds
Trails of dancing threads

Touch me at heart
With Pieces of broken glass
Something for me, something sweet heart
The shining glitter, something to last

Reasons to these times,
Colors of red, bows and arrows
Racing purpose into the dark
masking the deepening sorrows

Touch my mind
With twigs of feathers
Sweet dreams, sweet dreams sweet heart
Slip the whiskey, pour this night to my jaded jar

Reasons for my substance
Colors of blue,
Swim into the air to the crimson hue
Waking up to a child’s curious glance

Seep into my heart
With some flowery thoughts
Sweet hunger, just raise my pain
Let me hear the whispers of dreams
Sleepless or sleeping or may be just slain.

PS: Images.

Project Pathos- 2

Do you feel liberated
Burning free yet again
Tell me honey in this night
How do you taste the salt in the rain

Tell me how does it feel
Does it feel the same
Oh baby in the shadows
Can you see the names written on sand

Oh can you hear
Hear the sound shrieking out so so loud
The sun light
Trying to breach, breach this mist to touch
Only to touch your sweet hands.

Oh did I tell you
I had no one to blame
I had no one to blame

PS: Eternal Sunshine.

Project Pathos - 1

Dance so I think
Let s dance, but to whom,
Should I link
Is it you tonight,
Or my joy for losing you

Hear the guitar playing
In to the thundering skies
Soft Swing to the flute
Playing into these,
These glittering eyes.

Seducing to this morning
As the dawn embraces the cold night
Sound rising with a gentle touché
on the piano scales
the lasting sweetness of lips
it Holds the moment tight.

A moment is passing
Don’t dare leave me darling
Breeze is flowing wild,
Into the silence,
Rambling waterfall of memories
Into this dark night.

P.S: Dusk and the deep willows.

Requiem

Into the skies a dimension opens wide
The rising of the night sky
Into the darkness,
Shines a million eyes

Under this time,
We walk alone,
Into this cold
As the mist tears to fall and fly

Into this wild the whispers cry
Into this stillness silence flies
Into our corners,
You and I

Look over Our crimes

Last flight of music

The day he sat. Wondering about life. In such simple terms an understatement unknown to him as he mingled in the crowd of reasons. And of music that was mesmerized both with romance and sustaining dreams sinking into horizon of reality and desire.

It was a crazy night.

It was a crazy night. She told me, she would call up. I have been waiting now, for like ages. Trying to keep my anxiety and anger at bay. Once you let excitement and fear creep in, they just take the grip of your life, in an unusual, choking way. Making you insecure and afraid and always on the toe with the thoughts and imagination preoccupied with worries. We live in that sort of the world. So I am trying my best to keep the other wise dark curious thoughts about time at safe distance. It’s a pace, I cannot keep up with, and I wish it would stay still. But, I know, it has a slithering speed.

There is an occasional burst of over excited questions, which spring up in the head. Just the like sudden rise and rustling of the curtains as the wind unexpectedly makes its way into the room.

“We are floating like winds”, he had said. Remembering those words brings smile to my face. It was a cold and chilling night. When I look back at it now, I guess death circled that night making wheezing sounds through the rustling leaves and the cracks of the old decrepit wooden door. The door, that emptiness of the room, the silence temporarily for a short while enveloped us together. It is probably the context of the situation, that immortalizes the words, the scene. We can’t remember the faces but the memory remains imbued in its gray shade.

Well how good are the memories there worth. Just a notion of what is past. A whimsical figment of imagination that remains imbued into time. Like trail of life’s presence, to define the course of journey and the abstractness of time. Like a face, chasing its form into a mirror. Existing for no other reason but only to define value attached to the worth of a moment.

But there has to be plot in the theater. And there has to be silence in the words. Even the winds and the oceans and the dreams shall gently come to rest. And the motion shall seize to exist into pristine purity of silence and darkness. In perfect stillness and in peace the earth shall stand. For one moment, desire shall gasp a lonely wish and the moment shall sink into the past.

And he wrote a few notes, words sneaking to the underbelly of seduction. One towards death.