Friday, January 30, 2009
I am getting bored of intellectual whores
This is a time when I must do what it takes
This is a time when I need a break
Poems shall resume in month of March
I'll most probably buy a new watch
There is a dragon to kill and monsters to slay
I also have my birthday in May
So, as I take your leave don't be disheartened
I shall be back cuz words are important
Writing words is the only work that I like
I think of writing even when I ride my bike
It's been fun and games but I feel tired
Don't celebrate right now cuz I've not retired
I've just shut one blog and put the other on hold
I'll post poems and stories when we're away from this cold.
ASAD is on hold and The Fucked Up has been shut down. Poetry, which wasn't getting too many updates shall have to suffer with the others till March 1.
Friday, January 23, 2009
I am good with my frustrations
I am in much better company
Than what any of you can give me
I don't want to dance
I don't want romance
I think you all suck
When I don't get to fuck
I don't want your pounding music
I want music that will make you sick
I'm getting bored worse than a brick
You should all go and sit on a toothpick
I don't want your shitty drinks
I don't care what everyone thinks
I got my bottle of vodka, Smirnoff
So all of you can just fuck off
No, readers should not fuck off, you can all comment here. This is about the times when we all have been at a place without our wish.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Words are magical,
But we do not know it.
Words are powerful,
Like old women,
But they don't show it.
Words are full of energy,
Who grow old each day.
Words are full of madness
Which infect those who read them.
Words are forever
Which we can not erase.
I write stories too at A Story A Day, but in the heart of my hearts, I will always be a poet. There is too much lying in storytelling, and though I like that, sweet lies just can't match the bitter taste of truth.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
The night is dark, cold is the rain
I can feel the throb in one vein
A sigh escapes with a trickle of pain
The old friends, the guns are heavy in my hands
A comfort, as I kill my way through these strange lands
I left a trail of death and pain in my wake
Let's see how much more can they take
I killed for reasons
In all the seasons
I killed whole groups
And twos and ones.
There are still bullets left in these guns
And they will last these two dying suns
There are many more of them left to kill
The jaws of death can never be filled
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Insane, irregular on a broken cardiogram
A green line, carrying hope, life and death
Bouncing up and down with each stolen breath
I watch with obsidian curiosity
Without anything resembling pity
This is even more entertaining than porn
But if this line falls flat, I will mourn
The line makes hills, valleys, highs, and lows
I'll follow it to as far as it goes
I wait for the final point as the green line glows
I am waiting for it to end, it knows
Finally, a sign pops up on the screen
I hear it pop and I know what it means
All my senses with great joy exploded
All my torrents have finally downloaded!!!
Dear blog, I have been an asshole and I am sorry that I ignored you for such a long time, its just you and me now, here. Just us, and fuck all those ASAD and TFU people. Its just my poetry and me.