She

She...

++++++++++++

Eyes Of Pearls,

She Uses to See,

Wavy Hair,

That Rivals The Sea,
Her Lips a Brilliant Red,
Next to Which the Finest Roses Fade,

Walking On Air,

She Seems to Float,

Causing Me on Her To Dote,

Since the Birth of Time,

The Sunset Sky,

Has Managed to Lay Claim,

To Be The Most Beautiful Sight,

Till In this World, She Came...

+++++++++++++

An Ageless Reflection of a schoolboy's Infatuation.....

Katherine Perumal; 21 Oct, 1946 - 13 Apr, 2006

+++++++++++++++++

Dear Mother,

Four Years Have Not Dimmed Your Memory,

Every Detail, Every Nuance,

You Remain in my Heart Impasse...

I Remember Your Warm Smile,

Ever Ahead Your Weary Eyes,

I Remember Your Steadfast Will,

Regardless the Harshness of Life,

I Remember Your Discipline,

That Gave me This Cognizance,

I Remember Your Tears,

Shed for This Young Fool's Dissidence,

But Above All,

Dearest Mother,

I Remember Your Sacrifices,

Your Life's Ever Present Cadence...

Thru You,

I learnt to Give when I didn't have,

Learnt to Share when there Wasn't Enough,

You Showed me a Bad Hand didn't Matter,

As Long as I Played it with a Laugh...

To Explain How Much I Miss You,

I Could Learn All Men's Languages,

And Study The Soft Whisper of the Wind,

I could speak The Speech of Waves,

Master the Song of Falling Rain,

And Still Come up Wanting...

Dear Mother,

I Struggle To Understand Why You left Then,

The World is Bereft a Heart Too Kind,

The Sun May Have Set On Your Life,

But The Twilight Remains in Mine...

+++++++++++++++++++

I am Unable to title This Poem. It Speaks for Itself. I miss you Amma..

Ill

Ill

==============

It is without avenue,

That I return to this Street,

Encumbered by Lonesome Chance,

A Voice in Solemn Requiem,

The Vision imparted Uncanny,

Without a forewarn Soliloquy,

In Contempt I Raise my Silence,

In this Poesy, Denied a Dream...

=====================

I just needed to say something again....

Dear Wave

Dear Wave...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Wave,
Finger of The Seven Seas,
Grasp me, 
In your White fervour,
Ferry me away from these shores,

Bear me,
To whence you came unbidden,
Dear Wave,
I implore thee,
Free me from these Sandy claws,

Far Away,
Into that endless blue,
Free Me,
With your Teary mercy,
Like those who cried to you before,

Dear Wave,
Vessel of the Swirling breeze,
Befriend me,
with your violent grace,
And take me inside your door...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Micheal Jackson, RIP.

The news has permeated throughout all the world now. Its reverberations are echoing out into the vastness of our Universe. Micheal Jackson, is dead....

Micheal Jackson. Eccentric, odd, freaky looking, psychotic? Maybe, But Also, irrefutably a genius, unparalleled, Unique, Spectacular. I can't think of a time i did not know of the man. I was born in 1984 into a house already saturated with the posters and music of the man(thanks to my two Sisters).

As a baby, when i cried, they shut me up by playing "We are the World". The liquid, almost gravity-defying fluid movements of Micheal across the dance floor, always mesmerized me. I remember sitting transfixed in front of the Silver television in the hall during the few Micheal shows broadcasted on SBC 5, and loosing myself to the Man that Hiccupped, spinned, and moonwalked to the beats that invented a genre.

I remember the 1995 music awards, when not one but TWO of my heroes, Micheal and Slash took the stage and Micheal's performance, to date, still stands as my all time best VMA performance ever.

With Music that transcended race, religion, time and space, Micheal in all his eccentric almost Alien tendencies, made himself part of our lives. I do not find any of his behaviour appaling or surprising. Why should i? The man created music, and paired them with moves that were not even dreamt of before him. That is a special kind of Genius that transcends the normality with which we lead our lives.

Micheal Jackson, was an inspiration. He Taught me to dance, and dance i did, he taught me not to wait for change, but to manifest it, he taught me that no matter how many love you, the People who hate, will always find a way to hurt, but you cannot let that break you.

He's been imitated around the world and His music has Entertained the world. The Immortal Micheal Jackson will always persist, in the energy of the sound he's left us to remember him by. That is His Greatness.

I know for a fact, that i will miss him. The unique greatness that i was priviledged to see in my lifetime. This is For you Micheal, Thank you for the Music, thank you for your Life.

The Certainty of Uncertainty

The only thing Certain, is Uncertainty.

I am sure i am not the first to put that out into the universe. It is an idea that despite its ubiquity is still not often embraced. Its irrefutable truth is abundant in these tumultuous times. It is almost a daily mantra, that one repeats religiously but faithlessly. Which is probably why, when inevitably the idea manifests itself, we still are caught off guard.

My personal favourite cliche, "The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men, Oft Go Astray..." Summarizes the aspirations of Uncertainty, as it manifests itself in its entirety. The contentious singularities of time and space, have little regard for us, the self cognizant microbes of the universe.

I'll keep this one short, a passing commentary if you will. Tempted as i am, I do not wish to engage in the frivolities of expressing such a fundamental phenomenon. However, i do hope, that in taking the effort to pen it, i not only attune myself to its vice-like grip on my life, but also, help you, recognize those marks on your wrist....

Saturday morning

This is a Saturday morning, that i have a lot in common with. Just like me, this morning seems to have woken up with gritty eyes, stiff legs, and the profound longing for coffee. I look out the window, and there she is, cloudy, sleepy, and well, i think this Saturday morning needs some Coffee too! Or maybe, she's sleeping in?

Anyways, i'm experiencing an extreme sense of loss. Ok, this is NOT an emotionally deep entry, i'm actually missing the EPL! The worthiness of these weekend mornings were validated so much by the footballing prowess of Manchester United, for a good 9 months, that now, with this sudden footballing silence, i feel almost jilted!!

Yes, many of you cannot understand this feeling. And in my magnanimity(cool word to throw around today), i shall pity you!! haha

But before you judge that i'm a nut ball, go read the news if you haven't already, and there's a 72 yr old joker, who was found with a noose around his neck, and balls in a thai closet. Ok, ok, its unfortunate, its sad, its terrible.... But it sure as hell is FUNNY! The things we humans do in the pursuit of happiness, is seriously baffling, my own eccentricities included.

Makes you wonder, what all of us, truly harbor as invigorating, in the deep private crevices of our imagination...

The Reaper

The Reaper...
============

His arms creased straight,
Each Finger outstretched,
Desperate for Solace's grasp,
Still thru Icy nothing,
Those Fingers finish Closing,
As his breath fights for its last gasp...
His body strong,
His mind steadfast,
Death has Not his Will yet,
But for her Estrangement,
And Forlorn engagement,
The Reaper and him should have met...
Its the First and my last,
Claim those that have alas,
Not Fathomed a depth of regret,
Still what goes around,
Returns unbound,
When the Reaper hangs up his hat...
It is for which,
The Strange soul persists,
Seeking Song, in rhythmic Duet,
Yet truth be told,
Most melodies are cold,
Much like the Reaper's Silhouette...

============================

What is this poem about? lol The blank page knows.... ;)

The Blank Page..

A blank page, is a magnificent thing, Serving me so well throughout the years, as far back as i can remember. It was the one place where i have often found myself free, unbound and empowered.

The blank page has graciously harbored my fugitive thoughts time and time again; bored in class, on the bus, even during those pointless O levels, it has provided me with an outlet that is ill-replaced by any other means. It is when I am most comfortable, my emotions dancing on the page in the form of script, careless, like nymphs on a meadow. It is with a blank page, that i have shared my most intimate thoughts, my fears, my dreams and my ideas.

On a blank page, i have played God, writing stories of lives that had not lived till i penned them into existence. The page, and i, a marriage, birthing like Cane and Abel, words of inspiration and desolation, Humour and sorrow, of Love and its painful void.

The Blank Page, a simple manifestation of infinity, one who's secrets are endless, ever present, and always revealed with the simplest question. The Blank page, my friend, my counselor, my Legacy...

IF......

If
++++++

If every argument can be won by the presence of inebriation,
Leave debate in the wake of sobriety,
If every opinion is ill defended by its beneficiary,
Leave Cause in the Wake of Cowardice,
If Belief is the victim of Tenure,
Leave morals in the wake of Comfort,
If Every person is to be the sum of anothers' mistakes,
Leave ambition in the wake of Failure...
If you believe in the follies of others,
Leave Life in the Wake of inabilty,
If the man was Named by my Mother,
Leave Sobriety, Cowardice, failure, comfort and Inability,
In the wake of My Self...

======================

When someone validates themselves by society's singularities, this poem is JUST COOL!