Arbit

Little Kenny thinks a penny
Is too steep for these lines.
I tell him sonny, don't be funny,
Or I'll stop being nice.
"You're really bad, I'll tell my dad!",
The imp, he says to me.
"Run home and tell, I'll show him hell!",
I yell defiantly.
So the yellow laddie gets his daddy
To throw a punch or two.
But the stupid git just couldn't hit,
He didn't have a clue.
One punch I threw, it went straight through,
And hit his solar plexus.
He fell to the ground, victory I'd found.
Then I went home in the next bus.

P.S. And hey, check out the cool Simpsonmaker widget right at the bottom of the page, and also the wordfinder widget. Nice huh?

Leave it all Behind

I am asleep today,
But dawn is on its way.
Peace, I hope to find,
And leave it all behind.

The Sun burns my swollen eyes.
My tired mind he spies.
He sees nought but reposing calm
Curled up in puerile charm.

The Wind stirs my burning skin
To kill the trance that I am in.
But I keep my eyes shut tight,
And leave it all behind.

I leave it all behind.
Peace, I hope to find.
She sings me a dirge tonight.
I leave it all behind.

Phanerothyme

I dreamed last night that the world was lost,
Fires burning, and me and Faust
Left this earth to find a land
As pure and fresh as Gaea's hand.

We learned to fly and flew up high,
Out of the reach of beholding eyes.
We flew faster than any spaceship sailed,
Yet slower than a crawling snail.

We journeyed on across the expanse,
And before our eyes the stars would dance.
We stopped for a while and I glanced down.
I saw a crazy diamond shining on.

Its light was too bright for my mortal vision,
So Faust sailed without me into the horizon.
My wings, like Icarus, were brittle, were weak,
And I fell into depths that none dare to seek.

And in the darkness I lay like a ghost,
Craving and pining for what I desired the most.
To make this trivial world sublime,
Just half a gram of Phanerothyme.



(This is dedicated to all my high-getting friends. I hope my description was not too naive. And FYI the las two lines are Aldous Huxley's.)

The Extravagant Adventures of a Hopeless Middle Aged Romantic, The Finale:

He came back down to earth, at last,

To get a little rest.

A long siesta, undisturbed,

For he'd lost all that zest.

He reposed like that for many an hour,

Neither good dream, nor bad.

In his mind life had lost all its meaning.

His needles were all that he had.

Syringes and needles and bottles and packets

Of stuff that dreams were made of.

Everyday injected right into his soul,

Sorrow and pain it would ward off.

All his adventures were dreams and fancies,

Each one a narcotic trick;

And that brings to an end the poignant tale of

The hopeless, middle aged romantic.

The Extravagant Adventures of a Hopeless Middle Aged Romantic, Episode 3:

But as he walked away it seemed

The light was coming nearer.

Beads of sweat ran down his face,

The night was getting clearer.

Soon the fire touched his skin,

He waited for the pain.

But all he felt was a little pin-prick;

And then pleasure insane.

He was soaring in the starry sky,

Far, far away from earth.

He felt like he was one with heaven,

A new beginning, rebirth.

For hours and hours he flew like he had

Never known sorrow.

The end, dear friend, it has to wait

Until it is tomorrow. 

The Extravagant Adventures of a Hopeless Middle aged Romantic, Episode 2:

(Try reading between the lines, understand the symbolism.)

He walked and walked until he saw

A bright and shining light,

That lightened up the darkened path,

And painted up the night.

Then he saw a little bird perched

Upon a tall oak tree.

She sang a melancholy dirge,

And was sad as sad could be.

"Why do you weep, O little bird?",

He asked in sympathy.

"My son, he died, burned in the fire, 

All alone he left me."

He walked away from the murderous light,

Afraid that he might die.

"What happens next", you ask of me,

"Patience, my friend!", say I.  

The Extravagant Adventures of a hopeless middle aged romantic, Episode 1.

"Ah! Sunrise, beatiful dawn!",
Said he as he awoke.
He brushed and bathed and broke his fast,
And then he solemnly spoke-

"Today is such a wonderful Day,
let me live life again,
Bask in the warmth of the morning sun,
Get drenched in the heavenly rain."

So dressed up in his holiday suit,
And sporting his holiday smile,
"My holiday boots are waiting",said he,
"And I'll walk many-a-mile!"

He walked on and on in light and dark,
Not stopping in his way.
The story hence, my dear friends,
I save for another day.

Food for thought?

I'll break my biography with little snippets like this from time to time. This is an attempt at thought provoking poetry for the monthly magazine we bring out at our college.

REQUIEM

Life's light's a flickering candle,
Burning off and on.
Now it shines with all it's strength,
Now it's dead and gone.
Onward it shines through ups and downs,
This flickering ray still glows,
Traipsing through troubles, piercing darkness,
Serenity it silently shows.
Through long years this light persists,
This candle in the rain.
Riding roughshod over hill and valley,
Enduring all the pain,
'Til the hour of death and darkness,
When the light no longer glows,
The soul transcends to heaven and the body lies
In rest, requiem, repose.