Found this amongst some old stuff:
A torrid time in the train
an hour and half off schedule.
Things made worse by the rain,
even if you dont go by the rule.
A night to remember,
the diamond sky, filled with stars
with people around that came from Mars
looking a li'l sinister.
A man asleep at my feet
makes me shift my leg uncomfortably
A snore fom three lofts away
where sleep three on a seat.
And yet, neither of the two
seem perturbed by the thundering.
poor me, sitting alone, thinking aloud.
And wondering.
this was just around 5 years back, coming back home on a train, having been annoyingly fallen in love with seth's golden gate for the n th time after having first read it when my brother was in the state iwas in then, just after the all important +2.
wondering now whether folly committed is reversible or not ?
Home
About dusk,
Sun's just round the bend.
Ready to go back home, or lose its way and dive into the sea.
Beyond it fly herds of birds,
Rows of feather, queuing together,
Tracing back steps to the wilderness
The branches of whose tree's,
Are adorned by their nests.
Back in the nests after day ends
To come back home and fall asleep
Content, aloft in their nests
Tracing back my flight
Land in reality
Amidst my own concrete jungle
I am the monarch of all i survey
With hands flung up in air, in despair.
No home, no nest to go back to
No flock to give me company
Here, amidst menacing rows of brick and mortar
Where should i return?
What place shall I call,
My home?
Sun's just round the bend.
Ready to go back home, or lose its way and dive into the sea.
Beyond it fly herds of birds,
Rows of feather, queuing together,
Tracing back steps to the wilderness
The branches of whose tree's,
Are adorned by their nests.
Back in the nests after day ends
To come back home and fall asleep
Content, aloft in their nests
Tracing back my flight
Land in reality
Amidst my own concrete jungle
I am the monarch of all i survey
With hands flung up in air, in despair.
No home, no nest to go back to
No flock to give me company
Here, amidst menacing rows of brick and mortar
Where should i return?
What place shall I call,
My home?
Bargain
Today,
I struck a bargain
To sell off my soul yet again
One by One all that i had believed in
All that had helped me
Time and again.
Each of them I watched being bid for
and sold
And counted, in silence, abated.
At a distance, I stood
and watched them sell
pieces of me that still held good.
The final bargain now struck
I turned
A mere paces from me
There you stood.
The quizzical face, shall not work today.
How could I tell you, what you had done?
A wealth of hope, that i had stored
Today i found, were all gone.
And gone with it my own resolve
So here i am yet again.
My soul's been sold.
I struck a bargain
To sell off my soul yet again
One by One all that i had believed in
All that had helped me
Time and again.
Each of them I watched being bid for
and sold
And counted, in silence, abated.
At a distance, I stood
and watched them sell
pieces of me that still held good.
The final bargain now struck
I turned
A mere paces from me
There you stood.
The quizzical face, shall not work today.
How could I tell you, what you had done?
A wealth of hope, that i had stored
Today i found, were all gone.
And gone with it my own resolve
So here i am yet again.
My soul's been sold.
Lennon Song
As soon as u're born
They make u feel small
By giving u no time instead of it all
Till the pain is so big u feel nothing at all
A working class hero is something to be
They hurt at u at home and they hit u at school
They hate u if u'e clever and they despise a fool
Till u're so fucking crazy u cant follow their rules
A working class hero is something to be
when they've torchered and scared u for 20 odd years
Then they expect u to pick a career
When u cant really function u're so full of fear
A working class hero is omething to be
Keep u doped with relegion and sex & TV
And u think u're so clever and classless and free
but u'e still fucking peasants as far as i can see
A working class hero is something to be
there's room at the top they're telling you still
But u must learn how to smile as u kill
If u want to be like the folks on the hill
A working class hero is something to be
If u want to be a hero then just follow me
They make u feel small
By giving u no time instead of it all
Till the pain is so big u feel nothing at all
A working class hero is something to be
They hurt at u at home and they hit u at school
They hate u if u'e clever and they despise a fool
Till u're so fucking crazy u cant follow their rules
A working class hero is something to be
when they've torchered and scared u for 20 odd years
Then they expect u to pick a career
When u cant really function u're so full of fear
A working class hero is omething to be
Keep u doped with relegion and sex & TV
And u think u're so clever and classless and free
but u'e still fucking peasants as far as i can see
A working class hero is something to be
there's room at the top they're telling you still
But u must learn how to smile as u kill
If u want to be like the folks on the hill
A working class hero is something to be
If u want to be a hero then just follow me
Preludes
The winter evening settles down
With smells of stakes in passageways.
Six o' clock
The burnt-out ends of smoky days
And now a gusty shower wraps
The grimy scraps
Of withered leaves about your feet
And newspapers from vacant lots;
The showers beat
On broken blinds and chimney pots
And at the corner of the street.
A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps...
ever since i've read this i've never really felt like i can write
i wish and pray that someday i have a tenth of this kind of expression
somehow something a prof of mine said comes back too
if u like a poet try not to study him, dissect him and take him apart u might not ever like him
unfortunately i did and holy cow its not all that bad.
two more nights and i'l be home
back to where i belong where all my hopes reside
but there's something special about this time that has me more excited than usual
its about introducing one part of my life to another
the only thing i can think of is home
home not as in the physical quantity of four walls and family
home : where the heart lives, where my dreams are set, where i want to live
and
where i want to die.
Once More
Just another image to add on my obsession
half the time i think its due to my love for dawn i dont end up sleeping all night
just to experience it again
its a different feeling every time.
Dawn
Somehow dawn and dusk are the most enriching periods of my day
i just love the sight of the sun slowly dying out or rising up from the point that is horizon for us but thats not the point, for its never the point.
Our horizons after all, like
DAWN
Give me a new line
A new beginning where i start afresh
Away from the gloomy sky
Towards a new dawn__
Twillight
signals the change
the heart is merely dismayed
NO.
It hasn't given up
Night stretches itself today
but twillight must enter
through the white clouds
Pale against the purple sky,
Mellow not angry,
beautiful yet scary.
The journey is a herculean one
Do not despair
Dawn awaits.