Monday, February 26, 2007

Coil~cuttah.

Rotund redemptions of docile dexterity,
Fastidious foyeurs and luscious lament.
Holistic holocausts in the heart of the city,
The strains of philanthropy grow ever so faint.
Metrosexual materialism and precursory power~games,
Divine intervention at godforsaken ghettoes.
Overtly obese demigods with raunchy and rancid names,
Bejewelled better halves with putrid and pedicured toes.
Nocturnal nuptials of a marauded marriage,
Unblemished flashbacks of nostalgic novocaine.
Exorcized poltergeists on a rollicking rampage,
Ethereal electrocutions coupled with a dance in the rain.
An overbearing sense of ignorant emptiness,
Tachycardic Tomlinsons with a tousled sense of time.
Exemplary executions expended with frollicking finesse,
Pasteurized punches of tequila, salt and lime.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Unnamed.


Sensational shenanigans on a sordid show of sleaze and vampire vignettes on the loose,
Pariahs on a roll with leatherette cigars and smoked salmon on a holiday cruise.
A flushdown of epinephrine and heartfelt condolences coupled with another smashed sleep session to cater to,
Supressed eruptions of suicidal symposia and a sarcophagus humming up tunes in the loo.
Overboding folklores of Rip~Van~Winkle and digital throbbings of canine depression,
Rheological throngings of chaste conoisseurs and opressed emotions which leave an indelible impression.
A carelessly caressed photogenic snapshot of indigo garments and a broken smile,
Unspoken ramblings and silent regressions prompt an untamed enquiry with a lot of guile.

Unnamed.


Cautiously connived comedies showcasing deliberately debauched debaters,
Arcane planchets with Sauron and possessed Louvre curators.
Excavated artifacts dwindling towards drudgery and volatile Odonil sculptures,
Eccentric designers on the run with greasy and stainglassed sutures.
Intensely insane shopping sprees and anniversary reminders on the snooze,
Unannounced expressions on barbwire and souls on a tizzy in a session of booze.
Unpredictable ramifications of a praetorian mindset and careless whispers over pansied coffee,
Cliched accusations and carcinogenic conversations, a doubtful debate on the Three Laws of Murphy.

A whiff of the genie.

Doped teenage years wasted in desecrated degradation,
Jobless bachelorhood and impending doom.
Hollow and abstract thoughts and vague consolation,
Obnoxious odours at a sweatshop room.
An insight into the genie's mind and euphoric city lights,
Glowing fireflies at rock concerts, a void of all things sane.
Salted water on pimpled cheeks and violet paper kites,
Can Time heal all my wounds and drive away the pain?

Frantic attempts to fathom the thought of seeing the genie smile,
Inhuman chunks of palatable pastries, a chocoholic's dream delight.
A profusely bleeding carotid artery and a mouth full of gurgling bile,
A cornucopia of insane emotions on a silent, starry night.

High school.

Thixotropic grievances and malarial hedgehogs and bowls overflowing with chicken stock,
A cute, overfed child and oily strands in a plait, crudely decked up in a pink frock.
Rendezvous at the local fair and numerous glitter bangles coupled with a glistening and trendy navel ring.
Inconsequential bouts of anger inching towards the senile plus a listless and off~beat mood swing.
Grade~point averages and tumultous burpday treats, a belittling act of self~defiance so benign,
Common room brawls and ultra~secret sting operations complement a premature loss of mind and a lumpsum fine.
Consolidated high school years and egotistic love triangles trigger a dormant fit of rage so obscure,
A quarter of a decade in a pent~up hell hole and a totally secure job warranty, that's for sure.

Yo.

A volcano in dormancy and lots of party jive,
An open book with a creased up cover, an axecutioner's dream archive.
An emotion vault for pent~up flings, always game for any mood,
The yo khoo, philandering dudezeglory with lots of godforsaken attitude.
Hook, line and sinker for ze axe, cuss~words straight in your face,
Levelled proposals and amorous scrap~sessions and a whirlwind courtship at godspeed pace.
Musically adept and subtly inept, he's sold his soul to solid hard rock,
Cupid's gone for a joyride 'coz Shrediknight's now by his side, gates of love shackled by a rusty lock.
With a shoulder much colder, she makes men smoulder, cute smiles proclaiming fantasmic friendship,
Frustrated messages and unanswered calls trigger a fiery outburst that's really pretty deep.
Sarcastic mindgames and metamorphosing narcissism couple an inner realization of the divine,
Messiah's gotta be proud of this dude in a shroud, hallucinations at some distant, remote shrine.

Obscure.


Macabre meetings with the Devil's Advocate and an inner gut feeling of mystic profanity,
Sinister presences looming in the horizon trigger off unaccountable bouts of masochistic insanity.
Mummified toads and airborn felines procreate hair~raising tales in Lala Land,
Toy train rides with the genie in a bottle and calloused feet trudging through burning sand.
Immaterial consequences of an unpromised phone call wean off all the shortcomings of a tall day,
Unparalleled comparisons and physically connotated fiascoes by dastardly bashibazouks at Ottowa Bay.
An onslaught of mortified double entendres and grisly serial killings at Alien Ant Farm,
An untamed outburst of necrophilic proliferation could bring the leggy lass to a hell of a lot of harm.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Reprise.


Presumptory allusions 'n diffident conclusions to a vortex of complicated allegories,

Depressing downpours 'n bone~crackling frost waves shroud a tale of woe spawning several stories.

Boisterous banter and melancholic mood~swings precede the wee 'n wan hours of the sixth day,

Fuchsia teddies 'n cute lil' snap~frames and frozen memories of the honeymoon at Biscayne Bay.

Obnoxious odours n repugnant chocolate wrappers with a view for a better 'morrow,

Lust words etched on mammoth mammalian tusks, pathetic tales of misery and sorrow.

Three words to die for 'n a dance in the rain instigate an outburst of chauvinistic chivalry,

Frozen hyacinths 'n spewing coffee~machines and crazy cockatoos adept at foolhardy mimicry.

Reincarnation.




A suicidal kid in a floundering youth with a burgeoning shower of maladies,


Straddling on to the last sinking straw in a desperate attempt for apathies.


Incessant hankering for a drop of affection and a pitiful donation on the spur,


Subsequent drift~off's into Lala Land, life really does become much of a blur.


Frantic Cupid arrowshots attributed to neurotoxic ecstacy, a journey into the land of the lovely,


Where red over~rules all lovestruck fools and all is sugary 'n bubbly.


Consequent years and an ocean of tears with a generous scoop of lies left to feign,


Melodramatic breakups and an extra arrow shot, the gorramn cycle starts all over again.

Monday, February 12, 2007

Unnamed.


Moments of innate epiphany in a hallucinating haze of claustrophobia,
A serpentine walk down a turpentine road and subtle realizations of memorabilia.
Purple bandicoots and incinerated cigars with a haunting feeling of deja~vu,
Foe~rag dolls 'n rusty frat pins and visits to the shrink at San~Yang~Poo.
Amber haze lights 'n lemonade men with beer mugs foaming at the brim,
Gellato ice creams 'n cocktailed korny tunes and mango frappe's topped with whipped cream.
Smashed sleep~sessions 'n feigned crocodile tears and messages spewing fantasmic love,
A jeopardizing act of self-mortification, as pure as the flight of an unchained dove.

Lyaad.


Yesterday was like, good, proper, onek phunnz. The afternoon mostly. Dhrubo and me, as always. After dada clinched a half~century and Lil' Master got stumped, we jogged out, indecisive, vulnerable and hungry for lots of lyaad. Gold flakes edged us onto Park Street and with semi~diluted large pegs of burning Old Monk inside our intestines, kurtsy good ol' molly holly Oly Pub, we set out for Gorer Math. Tumultously fiery chicken rolls and incinerated Benson Hedges cancer sticks brought out the smoking poetic talent in mah gay buddy too. Alongwith songs like Mitwa.KANK*eesh* and Kisna.Kisna*barf* we could have hardly asked for more. Yet, with the Gorer Math, impossible is nothing.
Just imagine.
"A smouldering speck in the blue couture,
Flies on, far, far away.
Zeus rests on His snowy lil' throne,
Amidst the cirrus and the cumulonimbus in some distant, Milky Way."

All we missed out on was the lebu cha. I mean, how can you NOT have lebu cha after sprawling on the Maidan for the better part of an hour, you tell me?
Dhut.
We also smoked up our last Navy Cut cigarettes till Sanskriti and paid our tribute by frenchkissing the burning ends, preserving our stubs in the matchbox and throwing it far, far away. Then with the mitha paan at Charu Market to tie up the loose ends of odour, I received Riadi's call and booked myself a Slayer tee.
Woah.
Halew'd awesome shaet.

Arthur Hailey. Detective.


Mystic 'n gruesome symbols from the seventh chapter from Revelation,
Limbs immersed in silvery bowls of filthiness and abomination.
Corporate BOLO's from the Tomorrow file on a steady path to evaporation,
Midnight scuffs and alleyway brawls, a vent for pent~up frustration.
Inter~cubicle flings 'n raunchy lil' motels, a breach of marital intimacy,
Schizophrenic lifestyles 'n burgers on the run, a threat to the vow of celibacy.
Archaic decoys 'n scheming lil' cover~ups, tantalizing fingers with connections far 'n wide,
An avenging CrUsAdEr 'n faked guilt pledges, Messiah was finally by Animal's side.

For those who've read the book, I'm open to comment.
Others.
Go figure.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Just.


Intensely melodramatic mindgames coupled with livid and liberal expectations,
Colourful kaleidoscopic images caught in a spidery web of frustrations.
Bland, wilting lilacs on a dusty 'n quaint, old windowsill,
A warm, repugnant, turpentine morning with poetic prowess at a nil.
Eleven zombies scratching their crotches with lots os vaseline and crores at stake,
Cutting-edge gizmos 'n cute lil' pen-drives plus lots of moolah left to rake.
A subserviant blow to the poverty line and a serious threat to humanity,
Random 'n disconnected discussions in mind, a faltering grip on the reigns of sanity.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

A momentary lapse of reason.


Charred scratches of love and lust,
Contorted dreams on fire.
Promiscous procrastinations bite the dust.
Lovelorn souls gone haywire.
Cupid's probably lost His touch,
Shot them arrows too hard.
Nocturnal coruscations at the edge of the porch,
Incoherent rantings of a retard.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Theism and all that prevails.


Would you hold Him responsible,
for the cataclysmic conjectures at Bhuj?
For all that surpassed the claustrophobic cubicles of
The Pentagon?
Believe, for we do,
In the omnipotent, all-encompassing cry of The Messiah.
In His infrequent, deliberating search for compassion.
Do believe, for we do.
For else, all vows of faith fail us,
Our dreams of a global village shatter ground.
We shall believe, else strive to,
Least fathom the thought of making an attempt.
To believe in Him, Inshallah,
Gopal Krishna and Pee-Wee-Herman.
Give me the strength and bravado, my hero,
to accept the things that I cannot change,
and to change the things I can.
To forgive and to forget,
also,
to forfeit and to forsake.
My attempts for atheism are as true
as Kaavya's 'original' spin-yarn.
I wAnT to believe in Him,
when all is well and good with me.
Help me believe,
please,
Help me believe.

Rain.


Drippety drip, squish squish,
Mud in boots, let's make a wish.
Drop a coin into the well,
Let the genie cast a spell.
Induced visions in a drunken stupor,
metamorphose into a plesiosaur.
Colourful puddles and paper boats,
Half-burnt rice and semi-parched oats.
Unfulfilled wishes in an old smelly stocking,
Inscrutable lines from the eccentric Stephen Hawking.
Sachharized candy treats at an upbeat shopping mall,
Burpy lil' cries from my own babydoll.

Friday, February 02, 2007

Anarchy "99


'My red rose has turned to white,
How must I bleed, how must I fight,'
From these very eyes you take the light,
Screaming your way into the dead of the night.
Unchain the colours before my eyes,
All the broken promises were merely white lies,
Tears are the cathartic that I fall back on now,
I'd fathom it would be just another hackneyed vow.
It's in our blood, in our voice, in all our gorramn veins,
Bloodbath, anarchy and all else that reigns.
Heart me, fall for me, wuv me lil' angel,
Else I'd sure sue mah soul for another pweety damsel.
I'm sorry I had to hang up,
Momee gave me the super chaap.
You'd make a great Lacuna Coil,
My very own chwit lil' Olive Oyl.

The italicized portion was added later on.
It's totally non~anarchy.
Censored.
Heh.