The Reckoning - Part I

...everything is silent around me.the voices in my head are numb, dull., and wavering...my thoughts are going quieter by the second and it becomes harder to listen to them. Indistinct and distant, they seem to betray me at the moment. Am I going Sane?? I hope not. I love my insanity, every quiet, disturbing moment of it. Wait... I think I see something in the void... A man... drunk in a sober melancholy...why is he sad? My curiosity awakens...words present themselves to me one by one...some faithful...some...not so much...I cancel them with irritation...my diary becomes a mess... four lines...that was all...four lines...

Silence was never more a stranger,
Than a loud conjunctive of his being,
and the incidents that became a play,
a fallacy of his morbid routine.

Does it make sense?I don't know about you but it does to me... but it raises a doubt in my head...
the man seems somehow known to me... I feel close to him like a kin or a son...but still, the picture is unclear...the man is still masked by the aura of ambiguity...I wait...for the clouds to clear...

Alone

Alone

Why do you sit there in the dark?

Let me come hold you near my heart,

If you could let me be and stay,

I’d make your sorrows disappear.

Now, come, just look me in the eye,

I won’t be strong until you try,

And I will open my arms wide,

For when in tears, you need to hide.

Hey there you, can you hear me now?

Is it me or is my voice fading out?

I scream and scream for you to hear,

But you fail to notice my tears.

You ask of me to leave you be,

Bind me in fear to set me free,

Bind me in chains to give me hope

Drug me with lust, blood and dope.

I’m the cancer that you keep,

Lick me with those sweet fingertips,

Damn me within you out of spite,

I will breathe in you like a parasite!

Rape me and spit me out in hell,

But don’t forget to cast your spell,

Fill my veins with dirty mud,

Of a thousand wars, and clotted blood.

Salvation is a noisome lie,

No light, no fire when you die,

So keep me close until we die

I’d keep your darkness safe with mine.

Reminisces of a Drunkard

We all did then drink

Since the morning

We all hence did stink

By that evening!

One was a wee bit scared

And was near defeat

The other one, he dared

And he did, excrete!

Two were a lil' quiet

And they did try to handle

The one who had spilled his diet

And slept amidst the scandal!

But one brave scallywag

Dared most among the band

His sweet mother did he brag

'Til december keep his stand!

A sweet lass sat near all

Named the next to the best

She'd listen to big and pretty small

And help to remember the rest!

Umm...

Umm…

Come little ones, I beseech you,

Fiddle with my brain,

Harness it and comprehend

Fickle ways to entertain.

Little ones, you play hard to get,

I sit alone in this crowd,

Procrastination abates my libido,

And only you ornate it’s shroud.

Little ones, I yawn and crawl,

And the world does seem all dead!

I give way to my stony eyelids,

To slip into my lofty escapade.

Little ones, you’re here I see,

I’ve found you few at last!

You hide in my sad darkness,

And put weird voices in the vast!

Please little ones, do hold on,

I’d shape you steady and slow.

I find myself and a pen, again,

You hide, hey, where’d you go?

Creativity with a bunch of Firearms

Creativity with a bunch of Firearms

Wait and watch, you miserable thing,

Your world goes down, you’d dare to blink?

Scared and crying, you pray to him,

He won’t listen, he’s dead within,

To whom do you turn, in this hornet’s nest?

A voice in your head, “ Just stab your chest”.

Light your torches, burn your house

Shoot your mother, kill your spouse

Abandon hope, show some violence

Throw a molotov, and bring some silence

Undo all, you’ve done your best

Then slit your throat, and take some rest.

You’re of no use, on this Earth

Ran in circles, a meaningless birth

Meaningless verse, obvious rhymes

Die in your filth, and live in your crimes

A bullet to Adam and Eve, you mind?

I’m just Satan, no axe to grind.

An Innocent Murder

I open my sleepy eyes

Into the hollow dark emptiness

Of these four walls ,

Which cocoon me,

Hold me captive,

As a helpless and morbid form

Too weak to see the light.

I get up drenched

From my sad and noisy bed,

Which fails to hide

My nightmares and my phobias

That push me to the corner,

With my legs folded on my chest

As a shield to protect.

I take a look around:

I’m alone as always;

But its better this way:

At least my paranoia

Of oblivion and betrayal

Cannot stab me in the back tonight.

I sigh out of relief:

Another night I’ve managed

To hide and stay alive,

If this is what it’s called.

I curve my weak lips to smile

At my sorry self,

And at my specious victory.

But then the door creaks open,

Faint moonlight fails to reach me,

But lights up her body as she enters

The room which fills with her aura

That somehow fails to glow on me.

I remain hidden in the darkness

As she glows in her own strong aura.

I lift my face to look

At her beautiful kind face,

Her many-a-times healed form

Which told stories of the battles

Of her mean and unforgiving past.

Her aura exudes her strength

And her power to forgive.

She stands in the centre of the room

With her eyes closed as if in a trance:

A silent strife against the darkness

Which with each passing moment, leaves me.

I clutch on to the last morsels

Of the darkness of which I’ve become

A thankful parasite.

Moments pass by and my curiosity

Starts to get the better of me,

When she finally opens her eyes,

Which settles on the inhabitant of the room.

She takes a moment before she calls me

To herself in her arms, to protect me,

To promise eternal light and happiness.

Her words soothe my soul,

And I try to reach out to her,

To let her help me, caress me.

She hands me a chisel and beckons me

To bring down these walls that weaken

My mettle, and strengthens the shadows

That guard my captivity.

The cold chisel hammers into the wall,

And frees the bricks that have been

Effective in enslaving me as its prisoner.

But as the bricks fall by one,

My paranoia grows stronger,

And I begin to feel vulnerable and naked,

As I had always feared to be.

My fears now take control of me,

I realize that I belong to what I’m ridding,

Destined to be damned in the dark corner

Everlong in this never ending life.

I stab her between her chest,

She falls to the floor which fills with her blood

I reach down to collect her bones to rebuild my walls.

Epilogue:

I search for your sense of introspection,

I long for that gift of gratitude.

All you need is an intervention,

All I want is some solitude.

my first poem...

I'm so happy now...i just discovered my first written poem...It's called "ami ekjon bangali bhai"

...a speciously dark poem... ;)

I’m posting this childish poem I wrote I don’t know when but I was pretty young looking at the handwriting in the old diary and the use of the words…the poem doesn’t make sense in the first glance but I, as jobless as I am, read it around 5 times and a weird meaning came out to me. Or am I imagining it?? Well here it is for you to decide…

The big brown cat,

Sitting on the mat,

Is waiting for a rat.

While, the rat,

Sitting in the hole

Chats with a mole.

The mole says,

”Beware of the brown cat!

Who is sitting on the mat,

And waiting for a rat!”

Says the confident rat,

“I’ll take care of the cat

And call the bulldog

Who now sits with the hedgehog.”

Suddenly comes the cat,

The catch the helpless rat.

Out runs the mole,

With the news,

From the hole.

The rat deserves the right

For its life to fight

With the big brown cat.

After half an hour,

The time was pretty sour,

Comes in the dog,

With the hedgehog

And chases the big cat.

The big brown cat,

Scared it ran to the mat,

Far from the rat,

A happy day for the rat.

...a discovery...

I’m a guy who doesn’t like surprises. Rather I don’t like the idea of something not in my control. You might call this my vulnerability but I don’t fight it. But some surprise packages are meant to make you nostalgic. Surprises I discovered that I actually like. My diary, which I had lost for more than 10 years was discovered by my mom. It was hiding from me all these years locked away in a trunk in the cupboard built over the bathroom door- a poor example of architecture, I daresay. I opened the dusty diary to find my childhood self. My innocent but disturbed self 12 years ago. I scribbled whatever came to my mind that time and most of it didn’t make sense but some of it does, in a weird way. I don’t know how close I was to my dark self those days but the words seem to imply something than what is written. An unspoken plea to be heard, or perhaps to be noticed at all. Henceforth, I’ll post some of the scribbles in the diary which can be extracted from the half eaten remains...

Broken Promises...

Darkness reigns as the moon feigns,

It’s glory dominated by my friend,

A company in this quiet night,

A company in its own trend.

Melancholy plays with my memories,

A ruthless game of hide and seek,

I lose myself in my aching head,

Sleepless from a droplet's creek.

Not a new visitor where I sit:

Been here in the times of gloom,

It’s where I hide my paradise,

It’s where I face my doom.

Had been welcomed at your doors

With a dear friend's exclamation

Of roars and claps of happiness:

My usher to sweet intoxication.

You took me in kicking and screaming,

An unconsoled new born bleeding,

You promised you'd stop this beating,

You promised you'd stop me breathing!

Since then I kept returning,

An addict to my drugs I became,

A man dependant on his mistress

For bed related chores of shame.

Hence I come back to you today

With high hopes of the unfulfilled

My head and heart strewn with memories

Today I forgo my cared shield!

But alas! Where are you now?

I look at you but none looks back!

You don’t welcome me now?

I miss the breeze, your usual knack.

I never fathomed your soothing jargon,

Just presumed that you call,

Me into your bottomless self,

But you leave me at my fall!

I sit here where I had before,

And wait for you to show,

The smallest sign of recognition,

The smallest sign that you know!

But not a ripple across your face,

No soothing breeze from your side,

Is this your way of sympathy?

Or have you finally died?

Moments pass with minutes and hours,

You do not come back to me,

I finally lose hope and turn,

You did not answer my plea!

But as I was about to leave

A gentle breeze sings in my ear!

The phantom leaves me to comprehend,

The reason of your behavior.

You need me as I need you,

Though your promise was a feign

I’ll come back always as I do

I’ll come back, my friend!