Thoughts –

Just like the flowing river;

Mind.

Memories-

Tear down my cheeks;

Body.

You-

Bittersweet rendition of myself;

Soul.

Tear drops one by one gather weight-

Their own;

Some alone, some a few, mostly a stream.

Just like the black cloud cried;

The monsoon.

The creations became two.

The mother sacrificed a few that fed a desert’s thirst.

The others glorified their mother-

A river.

Rain. Monsoon. Nature. Tears and all sour.

I’m just a poet.

Glass windows protect me from you.

Glass-

I hurt you, I hurt.

Inside my home, Outside my heart-

Yonder from your smell.

I’m just a poet.

I love your virgin cry;

I love your virgin rant;

I love your virgin firsts.

I am a poet.

I love you. I love rain.

I love the way you smell.

The way your tresses flow on green hands.

I am a poet;

Who hates the wet,

The word moist,

Wet feet and sound of tears on tarpaulin-

Yours.

Again, I am a poet,

The creator of your creator.

Destroy my roof,

Carry me;

Embrace me.

I am THE poet,

You owe me.

I am the creator of your creator.

You do.

KJS

Best before, Worst after. Does the date matter?

What happens?

Do you expire?

Do you get spoilt?

Do you leave?

Do we get to lose you and me?

Fresh milk says 2 days.

Fresh egg says 30

Fresh dairy says a week.

Everything processed says 180.

I am 5. You teach me order. ABC & the 123.

You don’t tell me why 3 follows 2 follows 1 nor do you tell me why C follows B follows A, your conditionality responds “You are 5 and you got 50 more to see.”

I was born, I cried & you decided me and my genes. “Does this thing that pees and poops have doctor genes or charted accountant genes or everyone’s personal favourite – Engineering Genes?”

It takes me 18 years of my unconditional love for my creative genes to tell “Fuck you & your engineering genes.”

Late teens. Hot headed & heat, you ask me to greet and fall on the feet of people I wish I’d never meet. “NO”. “My child, you’re a grave mistake in the making”. The teen nods & walks away back to crush, roll and baking.

Now at the end of riot. 17. Still a teen.

I think I understand life as much as it understood me.

I learned to question but, I choose not to. No one interested me.

Not even the ones with the answers.

I accepted 1+1 was 2.

I accepted Pie was – 3.14.

I accepted √2 was not real.

I accepted one needed tuitions to score better.

I did not understand why though.

I even accepted the fact that life was like my my black left arse cheek.

Not fair and not right.

I accepted mito-fucking-chondria was the power house of the fucking cell.

Now the packets of milk still said 2 days.

No egg and dairy.

My smoked rind bacon says a week at -5° C.

My $25 Château says consume immediately after opening.

All these labels and dates and numbers does not & is not supposed to make sense to a hungry alcoholic.

Just like the beginning of the August showers when we became we – LIFE.

Amen & 10 Hail Mary’s to the legion angels for I found you and cursed be you for you found me – THE ONE IN RAIN, WHO COULD NOT FIND A TAXI.

These memories like rusted nails,

These memories like water pails,

These memories, these memories,

Let’s expire as our vision fails.

Let’s expire.

Let’s expire like feta on a bagel,

________ like Mushrooms on a toast,

________ like breath to the dead,

________ like pineapple on pizza.

Let’s expire.

Let’s expire for it’s rusted memories that are heavier iron nails.

KJS

If I were to lay motionless,

Would you call me dead?

If I we’re to jump high,

Would you call me alive?

If I were to wake up happy,

Would you call it a Friday?

If I were to wake up gloomy,

Would you call it a Monday?

I lay here motionless, still and tired,

Like an intoxicated bee.

I lay here motionless, shut and alone,

Like the body of a victim.

I lay here motionless, torn and tattered,

Like the uniform of a factory worker.

I lay here emotionless;

You can call me dead.

KJS

The needles on my watch,

Open arms wide open-

Late.

2:07.

A glorious french window view,

Lit, haunted and mostly suicidal-

Play.

Night.

An ashtray full of cigarettes,

Burnt green tea bags and butts-

Blue.

Alone.

A door banged shut,

Banged, latched and locked-

Loud.

Me.

A picture frame on my mind,

Teak and cedar-

Framed.

You.

KJS

I am not happy. Not not-happy because I am sad. Not not-happy because of anything grave. Not not-happy because of anyone. Not not-happy because of someone. Not not-happy because of too much truth or too many lies or too much happiness or even too much sadness or my two fucking eyes. I guess I am just not happy. Yes. I am cribbing. I fell like a useless Sunday morning you’ve spent sleeping and let your body rest avoiding the much dreaded Sunday hangover. I feel like a useless Saturday evening you spent throwing up after you drank too much, too soon and too early. I feel like the blue on a dreadful Monday morning at precisely 10:45 am when you smoke your last cigarette till 12 in the noon.

Have you ?

I decide to look into something what I like to call – The Dark.

The dark that held me for a while. A little over four years now. The dark that cared too much for too many people. The dark that forgot the whispering voice inside me that always said there was hope. The dark that was rude, over toned and under meant. The ruthless, selfless, bohemian dark. The dark that gave too much and took too little and cared too much and cared for very less. Scared, tainted and beaten.

Do I not resemble you? Do I not sound like you? Yes. I am on the same boat. We are on the same boat. We all are on the same boat. When was the last time you looked someone into the eye and said – I know you. I know you like you know yourself. Not less not more. I’ve been meaning to do that and as I look into my eyes, a sinner is born and hatred boils and no arrow of good thought passes by. Over fucked and under sexed. In Tarantino’s words, the barking dogs who chase speeding cars who would not know why to do once the car stopped.

***

Wake up early, brush, shit, bathe, eat, travel, survive, maybe try to survive, try not to kill and try not to kill self, get home, eat, shag, sleep. What the fuck am I doing with my life? This is the most haunting question I have to answer myself everyday. What the fucking fuckity fuck am I doing with my life living the same day over and over again, bound by mental chains and overridden by my senseless thoughts, chasing a future that will probably cease to exist. Days and dates keep changing on my watch and phone. Times change and pass me by well. It all seems to be stuck in the web of my – your – imagination. Every day a déjà vu of the previous déjà vu. A copy of a copy of a copy in Tyler Durden’s words. In due course of self-catering, hatred is – without a doubt – a byproduct. Hatred is – without a doubt – the cause and effect.

All off a sudden I decided to tell myself I was/am lost. Well. I was never lost. As a matter of fact I did not know how it felt like to be lost. No one ever gets lost is what people keep saying. No one loses is what everyone shows. No loss. No dark. Just the light. Just because the ethereal light was not present I cannot deny it’s existence. I still, till day, like to believe that that I cannot be lost. Maybe I am on a road to somewhere. Maybe less travelled or maybe never travelled. It’s just hope that one fine glorious day I will find the place where I wanted to be. The place you and I have been searching for.

I must learn to cater to myself. I must learn to enjoy being me. I must find a xyz. I must abc. I must lmno. I must eff off. I will.

***

The really loud horns are distracting me much from the flow. I think I will go. I think it is too quick to get out of my blanket of safely. I am covering myself again, closing my ears and eyes and locking my sight for now. Time – it will consume. Let it. Let it consume me if that’s what it takes.

Let your bullet of perfection pass me by.

KJS

In the beginning all was pitch black;

But colors started to pour over

As well as much it never got over

Black, soothes your heart,

Black comforts your eye,

Black hides shadows, twisted hearts, truth and lies

Black is you, your comfort zone,

Something you call your own.

Walking on the grass so green

A summer of green trees

A landscape of green grass

Green, green and green

Is a beauty to be seen –

But, in the separate green drinks of bitter and sweet,

Liking the sweet, disliking the bitter

Decides, the green ego in the secret cave, for us.

Sun shines a brightly yellow

Ornaments of gold,

Color of papers,

That are preserved and old

Yellow are the butterflies, bumblebees,

Juicy lemons, and falling leaves.

Yellow are the charming smiles,

To make people smile is its purpose. Yellow is you.

Love color meant to be red

Walking up the stairway

Red for blood pumping out a life;

Red for the Blush in a feminine face

Red, a flag of hatred in the eye

But then the red of simple dress

To give a beauty all she needs

Kills all others without a breeze.

Hopefully don’t feel blue

There is nothing you can’t do

These simple words are true

They are especially for you

Blue skies filled with hope

Blue Ocean of wonder

Cold blue hands warmed by a single touch

Blue stars burn to flames as i look for star sky in hutch.

No colors and nothing would be bright,

All kinds of colors making us feel light,

Enchanting colors for our eyes sight,

Bothering us not to stay in the night.

KJS

If fire would not burn you, would fire be different ?

The answer would lie within us.

With its purpose solved, the more it burns, the less you’ll feel.

Evolved, you’d be different.

KJS

When the wind blows and the candle throws darkness, the light must exit.

Would this hurt my eyes?

What if I were blind and did not see and my excuse to save the embarrassment was that I cannot walk down steps?

How sure would you be that the candle did not burn inside of me?

How sure would you be that you are not the fuel?

Thanks for the light and welcome life.

KJS

Today an empty glass breaks.

Tomorrow, one with a candle.

Melt it the day after.

Red and white then red and transparent.

Will it be the same, I wonder.

Yesterday.

Now the one with whiskey to forget.

But, in a set of 6 do you worry ?

Plenty of whiskey in the bottle sir.

Plenty.

KJS

Knowing you wont be easy, It never was.

As you break your torrents of fear, mine, I will lend you my brightest Light.

Accept it’s throw, it’s Life’s offering.

Seek it with your hands wide open and your eyes wide shut.

Seek it with your a slow tread and your pacing heart for when it’s offering ends, the separation might – IT WILL, turn into loneliness, the minutes to hours and a dream will float by just like the wind, just like a sparrow shot dead.

As I comprehend the tiny bit of my existence, let me help you awake the dawn of the dusk and the dust of the grease.

I think I know you.

You would never know it was me.

KJS

Locked in a cage,

waiting to pickle –

Am I ?

Are you ?

How long before my last goodbye?

How long before I sulk myself to sleep –

And not awake ?

How long before I inhale one beautiful last?

Dear sea, draw me in.

Backs turned towards me,

I don’t see light.

The sight of a face yonder,

I tremble in fright.

Not yours, but, mine.

The power of an idea,

Left to grow,

Incepted and preserved,

Kept and not thrown,

For it was you who sow.

This day never ends,

This night shall not stall.

Bathed in blood born was I.

Let your bullet of perfection pass me by.

Hit me, kill me and halt me.

Blame is not yours to take.

Your mind is not mine to make.

Swirled through winds,

Creaked through the cracks,

Now I exit.

Dreams left to freeze.

Prayers left astray.

I rumble alone.

I quake today.

I powder the day after.

KJS

Knowing you will not be easy.

I awake the dawn and dust,

As you break your torrents of fear-

Mine.

I will lend you my brightest torch.

Accept it’s throw.

Accept It’s life’s offering-

Mine.

Seek me with arms closed and eyes open,

For when I awake-

Long gone will be your fear from,

The dawn of dusk and dust of the grease.

KJS

My Doll, My Dundle,

My happiness bundle,

Miles we rode,

Smiles we bore.

The conditioned and the un-conditioned,

The trumpets claimed.

To be asked or not to be asked,

The subtle path of love I took,

Towards the east and yonder as you look.

The things we shared,

The memories we made,

The doors we closed,

The locks we opened,

The lives we loved,

The breaths we held,

The eyes we looked into.

Life given and shared –

Like a tree to a leaf,

Like a thorn to a rose,

Like water to a man,

And Sun to all of earth.

With the fear of parting,

A heart full of misery,

A night full of light,

And A life without you,

As I part my beloved,

My Lord is absent,

I tremble with fear.

As the flute of infinite plays,

As the midnight dogs cry,

As the night mighty sun rises,

Today Is a new every same day-

My heart Is dying,

though I am alive-

I will miss you,

I already do.

With steps of tumble,

A heart of stone,

With books of dust

And My heart not left alone,

I love you and I forever will.

My Doll, My Dundle,

My happiness bundle

I hope-

A hundred lives we hold,

Two eyes we look,

One heart we care.

My Doll, My Dundle,

My happiness bundle.

Million miles we shall share,

Billions smiles we shall bear.

KJS

As the dark clouds roll over you and me,

As you welcome the feeling of a comfortable camouflage,

As you get used to the unfamiliar,

Lie to me-

Tell me you’re fine and free.

As we build blocks of an imagination,

As I learn to take NO for and answer,

As I let the dark familiar haunt me,

Lie to me-

Tell me I’m fine and free.

As all your mistrusts turn fold,

As my truths turning old,

As deep as we decided to sink,

As high as we wanna fly,

Let us lie.

As loud as we are,

As strong as we roll,

As raw as we see,

As seldom as we speak,

Let us lie.

As far as we go,

As smooth as we sail,

As long as it takes,

Let us lie-

That we’re both fine and free.

KJS

First FUCK YOU. I mean you. the one reading this. Look at you.

Calling yourself free – Blinded, young, ready to be judged and sacrificing time that could have been spent together – Are you truly fuking free?

By the course of humanity and civilization, you and I forgot to take lessons in modesty and forward talks and most importantly the lesson of trust and good-fuking-will.

Make Actions louder they said. I did. They judged. They even spoke. Not in front of me. But, behind. Behind my own backs. They said – Boasting.

Make yourself heard they said. I did. They judged. They even spoke. Not in front of me. But, behind. Behind my own backs. They said – Obnoxious.

How long would it take you to be me ?

2014. FUCK YOU.

Fuck you and the people who were with me.

Fuck all those people who came to me for help when they needed it.

Fuck those assole people who called me a friend and was never there.

Fuck those who wanted my time because they needed to speak and disappeared when I was going down hill.

Fuck those friends of friends.

Fuck my friends who call me for favours.

Fuck my friends who care about a social identity.

Fuck my friends who can’t have a steady relationship, slutting it out like a desperate fucking whores.

Fuck everyone trying to change themselves to look good in the eyes of people.

Fuck you pricks who are a prey to the society.

Fuck those assole who use their drinking habit as a fucking excuse for everything.

Fuck MANTRI SERENE in particular. I live in the building and half a fucking day there is no water.

Fuck all the people I know who are satisfied with their chicken coop lives.

Fuck all of you who don’t know or respect art and love.

Fuck the shit people and watch in theatre and calling it movies.

Fuck PVR for bad sound.

Fuck my neighbour who comes home at 10:45 and wants to talk with me like he is the master.

I did all they asked me to do, just to be graded and put collective boxes of assumption in everyone’s head. If I were the vandeta boiling inside of you, in the blood that flows and the air that you breathe, would you name your boxes the same? Would you be the same ?

I believe in making my words softer and my thoughts louder. For all I know, the person living in my head is different from the one guiding my tongue. But the fucking day he lets go of it, god save this wretched world for every single muscle and cell in my body will work towards destroying the fucking boxes you’ve managed to build inside of that think fucking skull of yours.

In short if you know you fit in the list above, Please fuck off.

For the select few, call me, come over, Lets enjoy some scotch and talk about the sun and moon and art and love and music and cinema and god and life.

I have no one I can call a good friend. Not even a friend. No one. Not one.

Pens can be mightier than swords.

Nothing stops a skull from breaking open when you use a fucking hammer.

My last for 2014. Hope 2015 is prettier and less fucked up.

Happy new year.

KJS

He sat there on the Queens necklace, which had a generous splash of pompous gold and ember stones. He stared into the parallels and wondered how something that beautiful and powerful was his. Then it occurred that he had yearned it and as a result earnt it. His bike.

He also thought to how someone so beautiful and generous and crazy was not his after all the powers she had in her to change him. Then it occurred, it was not him or her but, they were just never meant to be.

Perfect in their own ways but, not to each other, they continue playing the game of social acceptance, which were mere fallacies built in heads of theirs. A farcical pile of norms society built in, into their heads.

He sat there and wonder about everything. Jesus, Allah, Buddha, Ram, Sita, Krishna, the toiling horses and the filled busses that pass by at the same pace the cars and bikes did, the circumference of the tea cup and it’s volume and of – course the time and space continuum. How could he not be bothered about time and space?

But, 2 things interested him the most. His bike and her. How do I know this? Well you should see the look on his face.

He still continues to sit there. Every weekend. On Saturdays or Sundays. This is my last time here. The last time I’d see him. But, I hope he continues to sit there and wonder more and have more thoughts till he finally decides to kill himself. Holding on to all those thoughts, unopened and unshared and unspoken in my head, would not be very easy.

I’d still like to imagine he’d die after he found out the whole idea of his thought was to escape the reality he was living in and he found out everything was just mere social acceptance and nothing was was real. Not for a day or a year but, for 40 years after he was done with his teens.

All it would take his 60 year old body with his 40 years of thought would be a rope and a 3 bladed fan.

No one passed by with a mirror. I am not sure if i was him. There was no mirror. How sure am I that we weren’t the same? The I and him are not one? Only time will tell. Space too. Maybe Sir. Stephen Hawking already knows. If not I’d give him enough time so he will know. I will understand.

KJS

please do take your time & read.

FADE FROM BLACK

There was very little he spoke to her. To the outside world, what felt like silence, he’d feel like something exploded inside of him. They were none of his business. Never a fuck to give, his heart would beat on all day long. Gentle, languid and silent.

TITLE

With eyes dialated and dreams of becoming one, he did what he had to. Knocked at her door, told her everything he wanted to. Laughter followed every line – his. Silence remained for a while. She in red, cliché night crickets, beautiful yellow light, a cold dark part of earth, a distant dog bark and a 80’s classic passes behind him, in front of her. Shhhh.

She, now, silent, did what she had to. They weren’t different after all. She shut the door slowly, making sure he’d notice she did not lock it. He reopened it with a reassuring loudness and saw her race a flight of stairs. She yelled she found it. He responded and his eyes opened reopened.

With him wondering what she had found, and the audience left astray, the producers thought it was time for a commercial.

CUT

Buy this. Buy that. Buy more shit that you don’t need. You can look better than you already do. Be a vegan. Don’t grow old. Look at me. Call this fucking number because you’re kids can be better slaves than you already are. Free bollocks with stinking shit you cannot afford unless you had 67 fucking kidneys rotting right inside of you.

RE-CUT

“I found it“ she exclaimed. His eyes were dilated again. His heart beat on. He heard his own breath for the first time. She had what she found in her hand and hid it behind her as she climbed down the circular wooden slowly with satisfaction of a monk who attained nirvana and the grace of a white swan – both mixed in just the right proportions. The rouge complimented her. All this through his eyes. It was the most beautiful thing you and I are capable of experiencing.

She walked towards him after the stairs. She said she had to jump and almost fly to get what she found. She also said it was her last to offer, the last to give. She hugged him – he melted. His heart did to. She whispered, “DearJohnny, be bold, be resilient and loud and yet some how, please be silent so you don’t kill others, while you kill yourself“ right into his ears.

Before we get to what she gave him, let me tell you that you’d love Marla if you saw her. Totally just fall for her. A tattoo to show, red to sport and a reason for Johnny to live for. You’d have also liked her whispered pauses if you heard her. Dear Johnny / be bold / be resilient and loud / and yet some how / please / be silent / so you don’t kill others / while / you kill yourself. I love her pauses as much as I love Marla.

Marla then pushed Johnny away gently and closed his eyes with one hand, stretched the other and opened his eyes. She said “Look at this Johnny. It’s all yours. This is a bit of a new one so it’s tough for me to let go and surprisingly the last flying fuck I have to offer and you’ve fucking earnt it” she yelled and took no fancy pauses this time. She woke the dog next door though. The greyhound this time.

I love Marla without her pauses too. I mean, even if she woke a dog or two up, it’s ok. Just saying.

Door shut.

Locked.

Neighbour’s light goes on.

Strings on background.

Johnny’s tears.

FADE TO BLACK.

Roll credits.

The End.

KJS

Such a perfect fade to lyric when the last of my friends left.

I hear the secret chord taking me back to my own lonely world, ready to be destroyed.

Him, The second biblical king of the queen’s land did love it.

It did please the biblical protagonist.

He, indeed, did composed it.

Listen closely.

Her name was out – off my lips.

The lower and the one above.

Déjà vu.

The bullets hit me well.

She – Un-interested, me Too much into her.

It ends.

All under the orange sky under which i had a dream with her.

Apparently. David destroys himself.

The End

KJS

Would you understand what you mean to me, if you were beneath my skin?

Would you love me, if you do?

If you just knew it all, would you wear my ring?

If I gave you one and only one chance, would you be mine forever?

I’d like to think, you living in me, would love you more than I ever did and more than I ever will.

I’d also like to think, you would not exist if your heart beat in my vacuum.

I think, you will love yourself, me, more than I ever did.

The one I don’t think of is, I’m not the one with chances to offer.

You are.

As fire to a candle, as heat to fire, as strike to heat, as heat to energy to the sun and the stars, to light and life, me to you and you to me – I love you and forever will.

P.S. You know who you are. I’m not holding a bottle of whisky. Not today. Never did thinking.

KJS

The further you think you get away from me;

Thoughts get closer.

I ended it there.

I await for my last leaf to slip away.

Chapped, cleared, ground and carved,

The rest of me will be wood.

To be – a pencil, to be – a toothpick,

Or mostly just to be –

Firewood.

Equal to being whisky-

Warmth.

To be Gone.

KJS

As the sun goes down and the moon comes up and the moon goes down and the sun comes up, without fail, i will love you.

The question is will you still love me ?

Its funny how I ask you, the thought that one day, you’d read this and know me.

Know what I went through. Know what I did.

After all, I know you wont wait for an out of time man!

For now, i leave you with a note and fade into the lone world that engulfs me.

Into the world I where I can live with you.

I love you.

This is my last.

I think I wanna live till you leave me.

Days are nearing.

I Know.

I will miss you.

KJS

The Sunday morning passes by me-

Un-noticed.

Would you still care to eat-

My dreams.

For all those who pass my head-

Noticed at 3am.

Have you ever thought about me-

My food.

I think / which / they pronounce. Them.

For a longer weekend, they said it.

For a lazy Monday, they said it.

Plastic love, check.

Better whiskey, check.

What about for her in my head?

She / I’ve thought of / the same time.

Son it’s her life.

Let me help you forget it.

My Convenience-

TATHASTU

KJS

I thrust my joy-

Against sea waters.

Climbed and slid through-

The spaceless hollows.

I turn home-

The sun goes down.

I turn away-

The last leaf of gold vanishes.

Far on the sand-

She waves her tresses.

Now-

A breeze.

The sea cuddles her,

The sun behind and the sand beneath.

Snatching, dropping and mouthing it’s toys.

Denouncing her broken toys.

KJS

Dear mindless midnight cataract,

How do I address you,

When you are so far away ?

Did you permit me to take-

The unbound road ?

The explosion of color ?

My hands / then empty / now filled;

With these lotus petals-

Of warmth and separation.

Scared and weary of the truth,

I will be I, You will be a memory.

All known, yet trivial-

The best.

KJS

Filled and filed with 6 emotions-

Life stands.

Full of joy, full of sorrow,

Black and white.

Divided as two, the high and the low.

Always asked where, what and how-

Never questioned why.

Lives reduced to frames of fame

and

Breath reduced to signs of survival.

Travelled through wind and water,

Fighting through sun and rain,

Piercing through heat and hollow;

Every match, a hand to hold,

A Heart to give and not to take.

KJS

There was once-

I knew my way back home.

There was once-

I knew you’d be long gone.

There was once-

Me searching for the real me.

This once-

You made me discover myself.

It was once here-

I built my dreams,

I fought my screams.

It was once here-

I never got lost,

I never felt alone.

But, It is now here,

I feel this way-

Dreams fading away.

Thoughts confused-

Withering away,

Colors pale.

The colors of a Bitter sweet memory prevail.

CRYSTALLIZE.

KJS

All seem yonder-

My music, my sonnets.

I sit, I wonder.

My home, My turrets,

I go no further.

My clothes, my berets.

O, Fuck this tezza-rima.

I bought my first Lamy pen today.

How I love it.

KJS

A pen void of it’s ink,

A nightingale void of voice.

A Rainbow void of its color,

A child void of laughter.

A Plant void of water,

A candle void of fire.

Film void of light,

And

A mic void of sound-

Me void of you-

Not we.

Emptiness.

KJS

On the other side of the mirror,

Stand I.

Hands of mine resting against the glass;

Touching your face.

Only a veil separates you from me;

Us-

I and I.

A transparent veil-

As flimsy as the one that separates us,

Our Dreams.

If you want to talk-

To me,

You only have have to dip your hand

Beneath the surface-

Of water.

I’m waiting-

For a glance or a word even.

Maybe some acknowledgement that you are present.

If you dip-

Your hands,

I will hear.

I Should-

Listen.

Even if i cannot bear it,

I

WILL

LISTEN.

KJS

I don’t want you-

To save me.

I want you-

To stand by my side-

As I save myself.

KJS

To follow you–

Wherever you go,

And touch your soul-

With my life again.

I WILL.

KJS

We all are born scary.

We all die scared.

But, not me!!!

I was born angry

and

I will die scary.

Death and love happen to be farcical piles of bullshit-

I refuse to participate.

KJS

Sit, stand, slit;

Do not smile.

Wait for a little longer;

Cry, talk, drive;

Do not undress and be.

Do not make me-

Look at me.

For all I know,

You will one day turn me;

My poetry-

Into my ugly screams.

My everything gone.

My dust remain-

WILL.

KJS

Still, dusk and cold

I stand by the window thinking;

You and me.

I float like a cloud longing for you.

Time flies. So will it all.

The changing times,

The fading photographs,

The journeys that have changed paths.

They haven’t stopped.

I ask myself;

My inside.

The love dies here

On the angst of my search.

This-

Like a bittersweet symphony,

Your thoughts of a few months,

Engulf me-

A Lifetime, A Sonnet-

Dies here. My Love.

A Hundred Memories,

A Thousand lights,

I’ve fallen for you.

Engulfed in reality,

Lost in dreams,

I am scared.

Not being with you.

Not being us.

By morning you’ll be gone, reduced-

To memories. Bittersweet espresso.

Welcoming myself into my loner paradise,

I will have to lose myself.

On the angst of my search for you and me,

It all dies-

Here, now. This poem dies.

Never the poet in me.

KJS

|| Walk alone ||

|| Sacrifice the correct ||

|| Respond to fugitive art ||

KJS

Engulfed in a sonic blanket,

Stretched out to the world,

Curled up in cotton yarns,

Spun in spindles;

Kept at rest-

Still, un-moved and un-dusted.

Stuck in a permanent daze,

Embraced within a sphere

without a smile;

Safe and alive-

I long to feel.

I miss my true voice, my touch, my face-

All much.

I count the hours, the days and my ways-

For such.

I think of all such as i’ve not chosen inner bravery-

As the soul to my body.

Instead, a hurtful, solemn, accorded soul-

A King of his own.

I must find life-

in my arms, as much as,

Light in moons and suns-

I cannot change my mind.

And now,

I

MUST

FIND

LIFE.

I walk around in a permanent daze,

Filled with hate,

Filled with haste;

This feeling will go on and on.

In danger and alone,

I

WILL

BE

ALIVE.

KJS

Your favorite song plays in the background.

Every lyric reminding me of you.

Conversations through my head

So many things-

I wish You-

Knew.

Time to time you bought me happiness.

Never quite knew I to say.

Afraid to say the wrong,

Make you go away.

Disappear. Not-

Far gone. Forgotten.

Every night,

I did it again and again.

Poem after poem

On my bed-

“I Love You” written

A hundred ways,

A hundred times.

Fright and scare,

Frigid fear-

They were never said.

Tall they do stand-

My poems.

Make them fall-

Your love will.

Made for you,

Never made it to you.

If it does-

You’ll find a love.

The love you never knew.

You will.

In lone;

In dark;

I wrote a hundred poems.

A hundred “I Love You”s

A Hundred ways,

A hundred times,

With nothing but,

The ink of a hundred-

Mixed-

with tears.

KJS

All

That belongs to me

All that I belong to-

Is changing.

Though

The past is melting fast.

The loop infinite-

Ends at it’s start.

The Same.

Can you tell the difference-

Between;

Fate and freedom?

Symbol and Sign?

I tell you;

This is not my world,

Not my space,

Nor my time.

KJS

I wish to receive-

To give as much as I do.

I wish to take flight-

Just like those beautiful white feathers do.

I wish to smile-

Just like you do.

I wish to love-

Just like altair and vega do.

I wish to live-

Me and you.

KJS

Words don’t give.

Words-

Don’t take.

Words do kill-

Not these.

KJS

When I die,

Bury me-

With clothes-

Of my young.

KJS

I think something

but,

thoughts stuck in a web

And-

this spider in the web feeds on it

assuming it is it’s prey.

A very grave mistake-

Mr. Spider

KJS

Name has none, yet-

Name has it all.

Suspended Animation-

Multi - color - bands.

No alternate required, yet-

The name says it all.

Just like your spell on Kacha-

No knowledge I use, at all.

KJS

One is tired.

I love two.

I am three.

But, two follows one-

Three has to follow two.

KJS