Monday, March 31, 2008

Of Us.

You know whats funny, ... i cant even remember who I wrote this for...I was just reading it and saw it saved as a draft, so anyways..putting it out now... its quite,,..graphic I guess...
oh, and emo.
Alwaysssssss that.
Gotta love it.

Of Us

You have been sown into my eyelids
sealed with wax,right from the innermost corners
spread evenly to the tip.
I blink
and our story spins out from the crevices.
unfolding like a lethargic series of music notes
out of sync.
It may have once been a peaceful melody.
This jarring sound brings no peace now.
No stillness.
No calm. No tranquility.No
Of my mind's numerous echoing questions.
Tumbling over each other to be heard.

Sunday, March 30, 2008


i dont think i have the patience anymore to ever finish a poem, most times i end up doodlin a couple of lines in between classes, or on the bus or so on.... here's sum of those 2 or 3 liners, rangng from when i was 12 till recent..obv the darker, emo-er ones r from when i ws a kid..all of these still need to b worked with but ah, i'll write them down anyways,..

(new ones added.)

On People

These masks that pass around me
Stiff facades
Happy smiled painted on cement.

On Losing touch with Reality

And when the world comes crashing
And when the stars snuff out their
Ans when the darkness seems so heavy, it


On Some Memories.

Cling on like mould
Inside rotten fingernails.

On Growing up.

They won't always be
The pink balls of cheeks
The black-buttoned eyes
The million-layered wraps
of wool, and arms.

On Relationships.

Glue them together.
The perfect pieces
that fit in this imperfect way.
They slip and fall
and slip
and fall.
Hold onto each other
for a child's breath.
Glass sand.
Slipping through these

On Being There.

Crawl inside the palm of my hand.
Dear Thumbelina.
I won't let the world
Hurt you.

On Expectations.

Don't expect me to walk in Your shoes.
They're 3 sizes too big anyway
I shuffle forward.
I fall.
I can't fill them up. I can't wear them
long enough and pretend it doesn't

On Everyday.

I wonder whether the
may not kill me

Might do good for a change.

On having the Writer's block.

A barren land sits inside my head.
Frustrated at itself for being dead.

On Hope

And from the centers of your clenched palms
I will draw out rainbows.

A piece of Sky.

Like a dewdrop caught
in cupped palms
I catch sunsets
in windows.

yeh i know some of these are really random. but they're like inside jokes with some friends so that's okay..


You know how all poems, or most, have a purpose? this one doesn''s just a general rant on soceity, on life, on an unending confusion that exists in my mind.
written during a never-ending holiday in Pakistan, Jan 2007.


Trying to handle
at once.
Be too many people,
For too many people.
Too many faces. Too many masks.
Which Me to Be?

Laziness- lair of vile inclinations
Boredom- limitless time for thoughtlessly drifting
through the mind's endless corridors
and vacant rooms.
Unanswerable Questions.
A weary old vocabulary
Too elusive to be of use.
Weariness of the Soul.
Exhausting Co-operation.
Monotony of the Unwanted.
Insecurity, Inexperience, Innocence.
Tact, Taboo.
Etiquettes of Behaviour
Rules to follow Rules.
Dormant, Stagnant Voices resounding
Echoing undying power
Spinning in a haze
of Endless Time
Endless Space
Thoughts, Ideas, Dreams,
is like

Note: the original format of the poem is actualli much different but sumhow i cant get blogger to save it , it just reverts it to everything aligned completly left or completely center....If anyone knows how to save it in custom format please let me know, ..thanx!!!