Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Tuesday, May 15, 2012


Is this a misplaced excitement -
that gnaws at the pit,
and grows ever steady
with every touch of the pen
and every word which is read.

My eye takes in what is not before me,
but what is further than the horizon.
It is not a concrete picture,
but a floating translucency!

Again, I must ask, have I been misplaced?
In the scheme of the world,
I should not think of such frivolous things,
and yet, this palpitation does not cease.

Friday, May 4, 2012


What more can one say
If one has given away
my position.

You know where I stand -
With the ever silent offer
and promise.

And I do stand 
With a drip, drip, drip
upon my forehead.

It knocks and irritates
till insanity is a blink away.

Well, here lies the brink.

Yet, surrender?
Torture is expected.

No man's will is a statue.
It is a painting.

Thus, I chose to stand;
be a subject to the game.