You Follow Through

Sunset from Crack in Rock Plaza
Image by Al_HikesAZ via Flickr

my pencil wrapped
I feel I have to do
what is expected
though I’m ill -prepared
and feeling that
I might be called dumb soon
I don’t like this feeling
of following through

tsk tsk
tsk tsk

it’s like flesh and bone
and blood soaking through
through the veins and arteries
and lymphs listening
typing their cells
platelets with their nets
fishing from a crack on a geographic plate

tsk tsk
tsk tsk

these IQ scores are on the low
these quotients that design as a blunt pen on a tic-tac-tow
like giving two cents as the fund
I’m feeling blue

tsk tsk
tsk tsk

parked outside my house
buttons loose to feel rain
on my neck
red welts on my skin on sheet
and I’m thinking of being loved
by some cool
only rain touches
and that is my cool

tsk tsk
tsk tsk

what flowers in the cavity of the  bruise?
the wall, the blemish of the scarred skin we call the “bruise”?

we say “tsk, tsk, such a failure.”
never questioning the digits, the structures
intellect denied, genius captured

in the small soliloquy offered
we painfully follow through… ▬


Light and Shadow in the Carina Nebula - GPN-20...
Image via Wikipedia

is fostered by a requiem of the living
where we horde our original selves
because the self we sell is easier to bear♠bare
and its more comfortable to wear♠ware

and only few us can divine
that masks are but stationery♠stationary
and in the course of time all will wither♠whither
▬ we want our tissues to perform mime

the bloodless can read
the bloodless can be geniuses to the string
marketable as the everyday dream
the true self can duel♠dual
on the straightforward♠forward
all the necessities

wielding sin is easier than wielding the metaphor
you can poison♠poise in
the banquet of a plethora of comedy

yet the rose♠rose in the dullest of plains♠plains
can flourish in the brightest of radiance

narcissism can only offer a nail
yet the revolution♠revolution of the wheels of this cognomen
is basking in the ether♠ether

of being the real face♠face . ▬


Some green and a brown egg standing on end wit...
Image via Wikipedia

I cracked open an egg ▬
▬ it had soul inside
I tried to poach it in a frying pan
and it said don’t stain me no more

it’s not a egg
I did not know
it’s a soul wandering like a corpse bathing in life!
you know what you need?
can I repair the egg-shell?
would you go back to your dream?
it’s said “I don”t know, you don’t know ▬ can I stay here?”

I’m afraid
that it will egg me too
I’m afraid I’ll helpless so
to a dream
that may be fibrous unreality
dangerously fantastical
demeaning minutiae of a casual
candour and breathing

pontifically it states
I can’t remember a name
that means ▬
I say remember
where you lie!

it withholds to withhold frying
it withholds to withhold trying

I cannot excuse you
I don’t think you can ▬
▬  stay ▬
you seem too arduously daydreaming
but caring not of your actual wandering synthesis

I want to throw it
the crows can have it

it says ” I am comatose ▬ not ready to wake▬”
oh please, why not?!

the egg dissolves
the crack remains

somewhere I hear a sigh
of a mortal reaching dimension . ▬


A Hubble Space Telescope image of the supernov...
Image via Wikipedia


am I messed up in the sanctity that is establishment?
or am I between the depths of acceptability?
is it ok that I recklessly survive
survive in a middle?

never within two oddities of extremes that normally clout the world
never between and always in between
I’m but here and listening
listening as I am listening
a normal oddity in this shell of the universe

polygamously monogamous
like a knife shining with light of angles 45° ▬ 95° ▬ 180° ▬  360°
encased by blood and lymph and rawest of plasma
I’m tuning in to the ionosphere
I’m tuning into ethers that chance of supernovas

living is universal
speaking is transcendental… ▬

Your ♦ Crying

A Metallic Shield bug, Scutiphora pedicellata.
Image via Wikipedia

is a licence to freedom
surreptitiously coy
stealthily voracious
a chimera of flesh and water
viscous and three dimensional
a pureness of artifice and virtue
laden under a coloured part of the earth ▬

▬ these are part of you
the internal muscle
of grey and red
spidery blue and green
mirthless and non-mirthless
organically artificial
lovingly fleshy
a metallic hybrid
of those things
that we have

I’m loving these hypotheses
tingles the brain
swims at the soul…

I had ♠ other queries

A pink Dahlia
Image via Wikipedia

was her nail bitten or spun? ▬ into a nice patch of white or colourless tubes?
was the question there? was the question here? am I in a question too?
leaking of the fragmentations that can be fragmentations
wholes in the holes as in the air ▬ granules are speechless
“what say you about her nails?”
“they are pink.”
” pink?”
” a nice healthy pink or creaminess-pink on a dusk that is her body…very nicely patterned.”
” but they are chewed.”
” chewed and tattered did not un-close pink ▬ they allowed me to see.”
” what of her clothes?”
” ok.”
” do you know the designers?”
” no.”

I am but the beak-less
falcon sans falcon
chicken without yolk
poached but not consumed
leather bag not on a eye-sale
seed in a mist
gestating in a fog
broken innuendoes
fragmentations on a whole

” why do you not speak of her clothes?”
” why?”
” you do not care?”
” I do care about the pouches in her eye scrambled by a poor oil pan.”
” she seems so betrayed by a loneliness ▬ walking around like a severed head ▬ bemoaning that artifice has been too usual.”
” who cares about that?! the condition of her nails!”
” does not interest me…”
” how can it? you are of the same stock.”
” I do not pouch darkness and see artifice regularly.”
” You are so stupid.”
” that person may have been hurt.”
” how can you be sure?”
” because of the darknesses and dizziness.”
” she’s a fat loser like you.”
” I do not know losers and winners but pretenders are easy.”
” pretenders?”
” Your eyes match that of a blooming rose ▬ sequinned by kajol so black that it is like laughter on a beautiful summer night yet there are greys there laughing too like a midsummer poison; venus flytrap in chorus.”
” you are such a bitch!”
” and nails can be plucked and still be there.”
” who gives a damn?!”
” I do.”
” so annoying!”
” like a nest broken she seems tearless yet teary ▬ her heart knows melancholia and a cancer unseen.”
” so stupid!”
” I have other queries?”
” what…?”
” what is her sustenance now? what makes her cling ▬ that spirit of bravery…”
” she looks like she has eaten a whale!”
” a wisp of look can betray a eye ▬ smoulder our childish senses.”
” so…?”
” I do have other queries.”

Craziness in Sanity

Water ripples
Image by laRuth via Flickr


your macabre is that which
is a subtle cell mass
producing no traces
non-tangible for ignorance
non-tangible for “other things to do”

when your bleeding carcass is on the move
when your arteries are in a flux

voltage up-down
and the membranes in your body-sack
is riveting out of course in-course
tragedy that follows the visceral
tragedy of the makeshift abode-insides
psychology in tumultuous ocean calm and steady
and you gasp that which you breathing
is water and air
on the given lungs
breaking away from a normalcy that which is observed and cannot be “un-observed”
are we but the eccentricities through a funnel of being normally-abnormal? Are we clay in liquid and soup?
a meniscus in a wave? Crawling with webbed hands and feet so invisible that it relinquishes the need of flesh?
I am the metaphorically robust-fully pretty-ugly ▬ my brain a steel on a horse-shoe and a blue on a atmosphere ▬ I can gallop and be winged ▬ birds have feathers and claws ▬ fishes have gills and tails!
I am thinking of papers and earth ▬ soil and chairs that revolve and the pens that can concert brain cells and heart-beat ▬ that which was musical was also anarchy as my lotus was winged by a liquid blossom called rain-thunder!
It’s oblivion in each cent and each cent can bring happiness too ▬ a contradiction when not weighed like a heart blocked by arterial fixation and a clouded-salivated tool that had enamel and was polished as plates
in the nest of falcons can sparrows sing? I think that is the analogy of the light and darkness in another breadth ▬ though conspicuous minds can cause inconspicion in a nest that is there to feel and touch and not there!
I guess it is better to cause disorganization-organization
for that is the  nomadic-constant
life is a continuance of incontinuity…

I had looked for stones
found feathers as well
carrying masses
is a wide open phenomenon  . ▬

Thinking about Random things

Vladstudio emotion 1024x768
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I can think a lot ▬ to the point of being distracted from that which I am doing.

Sometimes I may be erroneous ▬ I don’t know. But many a times I am tired with myself and feel that I do not know what to do. I guess fatigue is a normal human emotion and we all have been there. I just don’t know how many times I have bee there. At times it is more peskier than anything I can relate too. It has a spatial arena and a psychic one and maybe something that intermeshes with the physical too.

I guess that one can feel those things, or do thinking of them an exclusive quality? Maybe not. I bet a lot of people think of these things and maybe they find their own solutions.

I started reading some books. I love reading books. But lately, at times I don’t feel like reading them. I get restless and I feel I don’t wanna do the regular things I do. Which is not always a nice thing. I also have a habit of reading both “completely” and “incompletely” ▬ many books at a time.

Sometimes a good friend seems very distant. Sometimes it happens so fast ▬ like a blinking eye ▬ that computing it is confusion; you wonder where the friend have gone. Unfortunately, both intimacy and distance is a part of life ▬ accepting one and not the other feels very unrealistic. But it can still make you feel upset and incoherent. At times it feels that the person you knew has become someone very different and though the only excuse/”reason” they can give is that life is ever-changing or that they had something important to do it leaves you feeling quite unnatural in a natural chemistry you share  with that person. Chemistry ▬ chemicals; changing  ▬ to invent instabilties and stabilities and any topic/emotion/gesture/phrase/word/sentence/letter can be the catalyst. Oh how frailly strong those chemicals are ▬ making mutability immutable and immutability the mutable. The cycle that rotates and spreads all over produces the dynamic phenomena.

I stood on the roof some days ago. I saw blastocysts of some buildings. I see new buildings. I see open air martyred. I feel a controversial of feeling free yet also that the urban sprawl is depleting everything I once knew. Those feelings may not be important ▬ or, are they? It means I have come to a stage that where I am a “youth” but can talk about my “youth” ▬ in between pupa and other gestations. I guess what I want is the world I had grew up with. Not the minimization of technology though I would not completely mind that but rather a more freer space. I almost trip. There is a girl. We both smile at my almost accident. It was nice to have a human connection. Yet as a modernist romantic we might pine for more ▬ as my professor stated that Frost knew that going through those woods that snowy evening meant also alienation from a sort of community that once was there; so innately and seemingly gone just as innately [hmmm, maybe I should be reading more modernism and postmodernism ▬ I love those “genres” of thought] ▬ but I felt satisfied too. Reminiscing on what was where in youth and seeing my Dadu before coming up [she lives there on the roof but I was basically standing on top of her house]

I wonder where I might end up ▬ Only Allah Almighty can tell. At this moment I am just suspended in air or earth ▬ watching a herd of clouds pass by…

Talking ♠ Books

india calcutta bookstore

How we approach books depends a lot of individuality.

I realized this of course due to eclectic tastes ▬ I am the sort who can read almost any kind of book; though  of course they must have some appeal.

I even read a Mills and Boon once. It was good writing ▬ as in no grammatical or syntax problems and had some fugurative language ▬ but it was not really good writing. The characters were one-dimensional ▬ the female was dumb and the male inhumanely selfish and the one who was not got the boot ▬ so, talk about your unfair, insane treatment.

While growing up I read a lot of Sweet Valley Twins and Friends ▬ some are still my favourite ▬ the favourite I am referring too was this series within a series in Sweet Valley Twins and Friends starting from I think issue #97 called “Too Scared to Sleep” culminating in the fourth book cryptically called “If I Die Before I Wake.” That four-part story was actually more supernatural or paranormal than any book in the entire series ▬ there was another one talking about one of the twins meeting her guardian angel and understanding the value she has on people but this four-part story will always stay with me. It was more gothic and horror based and pulled my young pre-teen/teen self into it. I had the entire four-part story (will probably look for it later and INSHALLAH find it) ▬ well, I bought the first three books and while reading them, or probably after finishing the third, I realized it had a fourth book which served as the finale. I remember telling my Mom I wanted to buy it and she drove me there to the bookstore and I got the book. I recall that book had a very cryptic (translation ▬cool) cover as well. It was also thicker than the other books in the series (one of those special editions of the series). It was totally black with a house in front and eyes peering out from the upper windows and written in gold or white below “If I Die Before I Wake” ▬ I would read that quadrilogy again. In fact comparatively, though not exclusively, that quadrilogy was very mature and dark as in dealing with a lot of elements that adolescents may find grim ▬ death, taking care of children and being responsible for them and of course secrecies in their own family. It was more mystery, gothic-horror based and not really a soap opera in nature.  In fact, I might read still Sweet Valley Twins and Friends books now as they were exceptionally well written and properly executed unlike the other branches of University and all those which did not interest me much (looking at their covers was appealing but it did not draw me in). To be honest, compared to a lot of books directed at young adults and adolescents nowadays these books were of good literary quality and assessment unlike weird romances and bad writing.

This leads to me talking books with seemingly one of the regular customers/entrepreneurs (I think she was partly an owner too; though I need to clarify this information: I clarified it today, her father-in-law owns the store) of one of the bookstores I frequent and love for their rare finds and collectibles.  Well, they had a recent stock of children’s books and so she was reminiscing with me about Enid Byton books. In fact, her confession on how she loved reading children’s books still made me realize I do too. I remember I liked reading Enid Byton’s collections. Good stories those were and made me want to read them again as I type this due to there richness in storytelling and ethics ▬ we may not be judgemental but morals are appealing. In fact many postmodernism-platforms do not totally exclude morals either, however, yes ▬ they do not show protagonists to be perfect.

Well, I think I was enchanted when she talked about Roald Dahl. I immediately asked her if they had Kiss, Kiss ▬ the cool story anthology. Well, unfortunately, they did not have that. The story of Kiss, Kiss ▬ the one that is personally my own and not the writer’s one of writing it ▬  is that it was part of my education; in fact it was featured in a O’Level Examination paper and I stumbled upon it while practising and studying for my O’levels in my tutor’s house. In actuality, as it was an anthology I was not directly exposed to Kiss, Kiss but one of its stories that was in the O’level paper ▬ that was the brilliant short story, “The Landlady” ▬ even today that story has the same appeal as it had on me then. I remember being engrossed by the story and many of the past papers do not have the quality of engrossing (though most are very interesting I don’t think, if I recall correctly but might be mistaken, that the modern past papers are not so interesting ▬ I am also kinda irked that they removed picture writing which I think is challenging and interesting): I was reading it and the last line gave me shivers. As I was young the teacher did not do the psychological details of that story but did explain in one line the brutality of the story; along the lines: “It was because she liked them.” That is seemingly such a simplistic explanation but it really eludes the immensity of the chaos of that short story. Then I was so excited I wanted to see where, as my teacher told, the anthology was that had this short story. My teacher got her copy of Kiss, Kiss out and I was marvelling at it. I remembered asking her why it was called Kiss, Kiss and she gave me an iconic answer: ” Because of the kiss of death.” and as I found out from Wikipedia yesterday; the book does stay true to that sentence.

Well, we talked about other books too like the Twilight series which to her were ok for the romance but poorly written. I did imply that the romance to me is idiotic and I felt it was a good thing the store got more books for children because I do not think they should be reading too much of Twilight ▬ they are far better off reading Enid Bytons, Goosebumps and obviously Roald Dahl, who captures both children and adults even with his children’s books.  I still think I do not mind re-reading an old Noddy because they were very well written too. I use to love reading about Noddy, the cute head jiggling character, when I was a kid.

Then she showed me her copy of The Lincoln Lawyer which had recently been made into a movie staring Mathew McConahey ▬ in fact her book cover had him on the front. She was telling me how she was reading all these books for ‘easy reading’  ▬ then we went to the next phase of our conversation ▬ what we defined as ‘easy reading’.

I knew what she meant but I spoke of Malcolm Gladwell as ‘easy reading’ as  I can also ‘easily’ read and understand what he is talking about ▬ she illustrated that most of his books make you think too much and that by ‘easy reading’ she meant the absence of reading too much into things or thinking too much upon it. Well, truthfully, I knew she meant that but also I said that because those books are easy to read as in complicated things written simplistically ▬ sometimes complex things can be written in more complex ways. Well, she continued how Mills and Boon are at times ‘easy reading’ ▬ I told her about my semi-repugnance of those kind of books. Well, she can understand it ▬ how can that dashing guy fall for the secretary? ▬ more or less of what she said and said it does not really make her think much so she at times like those kinds of books where you can ▬ after a cutting type exchange on the powers of logic as in how we feel ‘logic’ and that though logic is not completely shut down ▬ it is below the surface as in not interfering too much and one keeps reason on a low. The confession was that I told her I could not do that even with those kinds of books and analyse most things I do read thus prefer reading the texts that have analytical value. Well, she said that she understands as she was in that stage at my age. However, our opinions differ ▬ this is not really a stage ▬ it is more or less a quality I feel that is in. Sure, I like to unwind and see/read/hear less serious things but I analyze those at times as well ▬ comedy is in my system but I do prefer many a times reading analytical things.

I recommended her some things to read ▬ the shop also had The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold and I told her how my Mom was so interested in the movie that was made based on the novel. I also told her her about Sebold’s tragedy, her getting raped when she was a University student ▬ which to me is one of the biggest tragedies anyone can face ▬ yet I think I also informed her on how Sebold got the trash arrested and gave the criminal the maximum penalty ▬ victory was hers Thanks To Allah Almighty.

Well, afterwards she had her coffee and left and I was thinking of which books to buy ▬ I did not know if I could buy all the ones I wanted so I un-booked many and booked some.

Note: Thanks to Allah Almighty ▬ ALLAHHUAKBAR, SUBHAHANALLAH, ALHAMDULILLAH, MASHALLAH ▬ I got all the books I wanted even the ones I had to un-book! Well, I got most of the children’s books that I wanted as “Matilda” and also “The Lovely Bones”! Ok, I started writing this post on May 24th ▬ as indicated by WP ▬ but due to a busy schedule and fatigue I finished today lol oh well ▬ I did finish MASHALLAH and on to the future!