parallel lives : white noise

Will she call?
What if she does?
Will I let words get in the way?
If I do,what would she hear?
Would she hear, the serenity of a silent prayer
or be deafened by the cacophony of emptiness?
And what if I hold my peace?
Would silence speak for me?
Will she hear the skipped beats of my heart
or the crash and tinkle of shattered promises?
What will she hear?
Will she call?

The disorder diaries : trip around the sun

                       I started this about a year ago...well almost.Surprising isn't it ,how time goes by? Time...the worthy adversary,as old as fuck and as wise as the universe itself, and perhaps, the closest we'll ever come to "God".Time, the only thing the world has to offer and the only thing we cannot afford. Time, the bastard child of infinity, always ticking  and tocking as if counting (down?) to some cataclysmic oblivion  or  divine beginning or..... maybe ....well..nothing at all, who knows? Only time can tell ! Time,the greatest of levelers because sooner or later it catches up with you...doesn't it?
                                                    So where was I,before i started ranting about time? Right ! A (almost)year ago,I typed in my first entry.I hated it instantly. I read it and re-read it a million times.I couldn't comprehend, the words were in my head but when i put them down to effect,it seemed very ...well...unaffected.It was as if, what mirrored in my words was not me but a person trying to be me...and rather unsuccessfully, if i may add.I gave up trying to convince myself,hit Delete and put my literal aspirations aside.A few thoughts and several days later I realized that there was this corny part in me,the one that wanted to write poems,stories and passages about love,drugs,growing-up pains,mid-life crisis,heart-breaks,hopes and dreams, shit like that (mostly heart-breaks at that point of time,because I was going through a bad break-up) and to deny this corniness in me was to deny myself the satisfaction of well....whatever it is that I'm doing here.So i said "fuck it" and stepped right back into the ring.Okay,granted that I didn't ...you know...make like Will Shakespeare or Stevie King or J.D.frikkin Salinger or even anybody whose work has ever been published,it felt good. I got some good reaction...and although most of the people who read me are my buddies (so i guess it doesn't really count).....but like i said "fuck it", they (you) are the people i write for/to and if they're happy, so am I.Amen.
                                 And lo, here we are again Dear Reader.A year has come to pass (almost).I hope time has been kind to you as you have been to it.And as we come full circle and back to square one,I thank you for humoring me and above all,I thank you for your precious time. It's been real!!!
                                            So let the snare drums roll once again, dust your top hat and your three piece suit, twirl your baton and wave your banner. Welcome back to the parade.
                               Walk with me, Dear Reader,We have miles to go.

parallel lives : star crossed

"I like being miserable, maybe thats why I love you" ~ she

Your misery

So we drifted in perfect reverie,
living lies never meant to be.
Washed ashore by cruel epiphany,
I was misery
and you were company.

There in the kingdom of the blasphemes,
We built a castle from broken dreams
and here we reigned supreme.
I was king
and you were my queen,
of emptiness where our hearts should have been.

And we raised a toast to our house of cards
drank blood and wine of grapes of wrath.
Heady,we watched our lives fall apart,
wings denied even before a start.
Drunk on hate
so did we part.

So here again in my reverie,
along the jagged shores of memory,
time and tide broken by an epiphany,
I wear the crown of infamy.
For I am your misery
and you remain company.

so who's laughing now?

Did you hold your head up high as you walked away? Did you laugh when you burned our bridges? Was it so easy? Are the ghosts that haunt you silent now? Did your wounds heal? Did the pain fade away? Could you forget? Is this what you wanted? Can you hate me now? Will you be happy?

I couldn't.I didn't.It wasn't.They aren't.They haven't.It didn't.I couldn't.It's not.I can't.I won't.

So who's laughing now,now that the joke is on US?

Dog eat dog !!!

Why do we hurt the ones we love the most? I think that in our secret hearts, in the very core of it, we understand that the people we love the most wield the same power, the power to hurt us, and so it becomes imperative that we destroy them before they do us. A defense mechanism, so to speak. The animal instinct to survive, because (let’s face it), take away the three-piece suit, the fancy house, car, social boundaries and what do you have? We are animals, no disguise can ever hide that…..and the only reason we’ve come so far is because we are the most dangerous motherfuckers to ever inhabit this planet. We do what it takes to survive…… born killers…..all of us.

SECRET SIGHS

A dying sun bleeds into an autumn sky,
The darkness soon follows nigh.
And somewhere beneath close-by,
Under the star-crossed autumn sky,
By a field of golden rye,
The shroud of silence stifles a sigh.

On a bed of thorns, do they lie
Here a widow and her lover try
To wipe each other’s tears dry,
And to love each other in the sly.

To love each other in the sly,
A widow and her lover must try.
Whispers he to her "Dear, you mustn’t cry!"
"My love for you will never die."
But by the light of an intruding fire-fly,
She spies a tear roll down his eye.
Outside a soft breeze kisses the rye,
Inside the silence stifles a sigh.

Try as she will, she cannot deny,
Hidden within her bosom is a lie.
Promises of love, oh how they fly,
Like birds in winter, towards a warmer sky.
So as this cold night passes by,
From East a little light has begun to pry,
On their dying love in the sly.

And here under an early sky,
Amidst a field of sleeping rye
Slowly he rises, from where they did lie.
Looks away and says "good-bye"
For once bitten, twice shy,
Giveth a lover a lying eye.
Outside a soft breeze stirs the rye,
Inside the silence stifles a sigh.