Monday, October 26, 2009

Demon Kiss

Hello Demon,
We meet again
Been a long time
But we're still friends

How could I forget you
You were just over my shoulder
Looking at everything with mild amusement
My feeble attempts at happiness

There is broken glass in this handshake
Grind it in deep man, make me bleed
I still cannot feel anything
Only indifference

I think I am immune now
Immune to feeling happy, sane or insane
I don't really feel I have anything to say
But would you like some vodka?


I read an email today, from one of you. Thanks. This poem is for you.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Butterfly Bullets

* This poem's title might remind you of Smashing Pumpkins song Bullet With Butterfly Wings

The fly at me one by one
Like angels falling from the sun
They bite and sting me, iBurn
I smash them away but they return

Butterfly bullets seep in my skin
Bleed me bloody, suck out my sin
Fangs fixed in my bones within
Laughing for my sins, I atone, #WIN

In a hale of orange, black and red I fell
Drifting between heaven and hell
What is real anymore I can't tell
I don't want to wake up from this spell

But it's already morning and I wasn't asleep
This dream of Butterfly Bullets ain't mine to keep
I've turned into an insomniac creep
Who pretends to listen to alarm clock's beep

Never really rhymed so much. I'm awake at 5.30 AM. Couldn't sleep all night. Don't expect genius from me now. Take what is given.

Monday, October 5, 2009

The Poison Of Moving Images

There is a vision on the television
It is talking in strange words to you
You are listening entranced by the colors
Each channel flicked is something new

Your attention span wavers to a naught
As you drift through data streams on TV
What used to be cool now isn't even hot
You mind is imprisoned never to be free

There will be no turning off for the TV set
It will record shows while you catch your sleep
While you frown and while you fret
TV will calm you with soothing boops and beeps

With senses and emotions dull you watch
Like children entranced by moving images
As food crumbs gather near your crotch
You have become a slave to showbiz

I don't own a tv and I am somehow proud of the fact. TV is poison for the mind, in all its forms. Save your kids, don't keep a TV in house.