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Poet On a Motorbike...

Welcome to a world of pleasure and relaxation... a literary art gallery which aims to engage ones spirit....


Wednesday 15 December 2010

That thing that makes you Happy

I see them walk around in their fancy dresses
Their Porsche ride doesn’t envy me
But what’s that on their face?
It makes her pretty,
It makes her feel lively.

Could she be an angel
Could she be my imagination
What's that on her face ?
That thing that makes her pretty

I wander along the rusty roads
Trying to do the things I could once do
They made me feel alive
Only they have all forgotten me
What’s that thing on their face
That thing that makes them pretty

Hello sir, I call out
Whats that thing on your face?
That thing that makes you happy
“My smile you mean “
“Yeah how do you do it”

Why is that I cant do that thing
That makes them pretty
That makes them lively
That makes them human

I should be alive, cos it beats, my heart
I should be human cos the same, do I look
Why cant I do that thing
That thing that makes them happy……



Saturday 20 November 2010

Shooting the moon at 3 a.m


Why did I do it? …
At half past one in the night, me and mate decide to wander in search of the prized ticket to attain nirvana-booze.
We reached home withered and exhausted from work with nothing at all to look speculate. We decide to embark on an escapade. Our ride, the La pedarosa, a broken down motor vehicle which needed quite an effort to get it started let alone run;and with hardly any fuel in it we decide to test our bikes loyalty.
We dash though the rain through unknown plains hoping to find our riches. We knock hopefully at the door of the wine shop, which brings us to paradise. A young man turns out to be our savior and shows mercy on us.
To celebrate our good fortune we start drinking on the bike, we engage in a game of passing the beer enroute. We scurry through the pocket roads, past lurking cops. We dash into the wilderness from the chasing lights.
Pitstop- we stop at this very special tea stall to get some much needed refreshments -hot samosa and some fags. We continue our trip to a place we always found thrilling. A place we always wanted to stopover –a broken down haunted house. It always appealed to us, the loneliness, the mystery. We break in to the house and climb atop.
 It just felt right, sipping beer, munching on some delicious samosas.  We lay under the star lit sky staring at the moon, building castles in the sky. Suddenly into the fray comes my sexy lady – my Canon SLR. Under that dimly lit heaven I proceed to capture the silence of moon.
We engage in a series of crazy antics later on, waking up our friends at 3 in the morning just to find how they are coping with life. Waking up the neighbors with our irksome singing. 

So why did I do it? It could be, just because, the next day I woke with a fucking grin on my face. These crazy stunts, adventures are what make life worthwhile. Sometimes, just sometimes, you need to do things that make absolutely no sense at all, to feel alive, to see the bigger picture.

Thursday 18 November 2010

Monologue


The dawn stirs me up with a nauseating sense
The beautiful lass I craved for is long gone,
Everything seems futile, so empty
Push myself through the rain
On my way to the far beyond…..

I see a father and his lad on the passageway
 Solitude gives me a cold stare
I cry, not caring a bit for what people might think
Good riddance to all the memoirs

Every turn leads to a downward spiral
The alcohol doesn’t arouse me anymore
Heartbreak my season companion
I scream a silent howl
Inflict a greater pain on me

Rags

Without You II


 Perched upon me, lonely nights
Darkness sinks in,
Where is the happiness
What’s life

Stand astray
Watching you leave
Kills me
Where’s tomorrow

The promises of a new dawn
Seems futile
Embrace emptiness
What’s to come
Without you here

Wishing you’d stay
You know I can’t let you go
I feel you close to me, your breath your smell
Yet you’re so far gone.

Without You


You won’t be mine
I can’t stop trying
For that light in my life
That one thing that’s true

This lonely drive, I can’t go on
Without you by my side, everything so inane
You’ve made me a believer, that bliss exists
But what’s life without you here

This is what it’s come to now,
All I know is that I can’t breathe, without you here
All my dreams perched on you
No matter how far you go,

That pretty smile that make my dreams come true
Where am I now,
I dust the ashes off, wake up to a new dawn
Only there’s no tomorrow.

All I wanna do
Is to be with you

Wednesday 10 November 2010

The Sting


Darkness glorifies the pain
Warped hands grow into pots of sin
Red smears the pictures
The thud of nails thrust,
 Into the soul incites you

The one way ride to the great below
The present irks your damaged psyche
The drags get longer
Innocence doesn’t fucking prevail

You scream, the chill pierces the empathy
Dark faces rule the land
Contemplate suicide
Wishing ..still wishing for the sting
Rags

Tuesday 12 October 2010

The boulevard devoid of detour


Withered lay, frozen petals
Broken hearts, shattered dreams
The love that once remained,
Stands tranquil

No more red roses
Yet memoirs kindle the soul
Obsession burned out
Still images reconcile

The lucid dream, passed by
Remain real nevertheless
To awaken or to drift in trance
The boulevard devoid of detour

Rags

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