tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57131466905988708512024-03-13T15:05:46.779-07:00Life, In a minute...Poetry, philosophy and everything dogmatic. To revolutions, anarchy, hope and back to the drawing boards... Basically my excuse to be sardonic, sarcastic, attempting a shot at the ironic and to skewer everything diplomatic. My opinion, whats yours and where did you steal that from?Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.comBlogger148125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-54464440616925338872017-04-22T16:38:00.002-07:002017-04-22T16:38:35.979-07:00Have you lost your wits already?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When you have skulked under the moon<br />
laughing for a while, then crying,<br />
and before you know; you're drowning in both,<br />
and you want to fight it<br />
but also give in.<br />
<br />
Have you reached that point already?<br />
When there is no looking back.<br />
Knowing you won't forgive yourself,<br />
that easily.<br />
Yet you'll be there. Just like me. </div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-54640354954555688952017-03-15T13:49:00.002-07:002017-03-15T13:49:25.938-07:00Who are you?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was. Till I ceased to be.<br />
I'm nothing more than the memories<br />
that haunt me.<br />
Flesh sunken to the very bone,<br />
Hopeless clinging on to what<br />
remains of this mortal coil, unhinged<br />
Perhaps in longing itself, a world lost a life<br />
I'm no more a star studded, moon lit night<br />
But the pitch black that threatens to consume<br />
those that stray.<br />
I did once. <br />
Content in knowing that indeed you cannot escape<br />
the demons you're forever running from,<br />
But slay them, and if you prey on one too many.<br />
You are only to be one,<br />
For another to feast.<br />
<br />
*<br />
**<br />
***<br />
**<br />
*<br />
<br />
Apologies. I'll finish it tomorrow. Sleeplessness is taking its toll... </div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-31124562050166774142017-03-15T13:20:00.001-07:002017-03-15T13:20:24.755-07:00Dread <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div>
You took over my mind,</div>
<div>
And I couldn't bear it,</div>
<div>
Dancing on the edge of sanity,</div>
<div>
In drink, I thought I could </div>
<div>
Drown you.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You were in my heart,</div>
<div>
But I couldn't tear you out,</div>
<div>
A bit of steel tearing flesh,</div>
<div>
I thought I could bleed </div>
<div>
You out.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Yet you tore into my soul,</div>
<div>
And I couldn't claim it back</div>
<div>
Now I wake waiting the dark, </div>
<div>
Hoping a slow halt to take</div>
<div>
Me now.</div>
</div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-67656539071934405582016-03-21T16:55:00.000-07:002016-03-21T16:55:43.254-07:00A little taste of history<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-65177526483704244962015-09-07T19:01:00.001-07:002015-09-07T19:01:50.701-07:00I'm a drunk, its the only time I can stand it all...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it--it's the <br />only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks <br />your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually <br />drunk.<br /> But on what?Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be <br />drunk.<br /> And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of <br />a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again, <br />drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave, <br />the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything <br />that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is <br />singing, everything that is speaking. . .ask what time it is and <br />wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you:"It is time to be <br />drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be<br />continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish."
<br />
<br />
<div class="poet" itemprop="author">
<a href="http://www.poemhunter.com/charles-baudelaire/poems/">Charles Baudelaire</a></div>
</div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-86124188031790198922015-09-04T20:20:00.000-07:002015-09-04T20:21:39.789-07:00The Bird Of Hermes - Ripley Scrolls<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<h1 class="center" itemprop="itemreviewed">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> <span style="font-size: large;">The Bird of Hermes is my name</span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></h1>
<h1 class="center" itemprop="itemreviewed">
<span style="font-size: large;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"> Eating my wings to keep me tame
</span></span></h1>
<div class="center poem_body">
<div align="center">
</div>
<div align="center">
From broken bodies blood is shed</div>
<div align="center">
Soon to become ghouls undead</div>
<div align="center">
The Bird of Hermes shall come soon</div>
<div align="center">
Be it morning, evening, afternoon</div>
<div align="center">
The Bird of Hermes feeds on fright</div>
<div align="center">
Soon blood shall stain the wicked night</div>
<div align="center">
The Bird of Hermes will devour</div>
<div align="center">
His enemies in the midnight hour</div>
<div align="center">
</div>
<div align="center">
The Bird of Hermes is my name</div>
<div align="center">
Eating my wings to keep me tame</div>
<div align="center">
</div>
<div align="center">
The night shall soon be stained with red</div>
<div align="center">
Your army lies bleeding and dead</div>
<div align="center">
Their bodies shall rise soon</div>
<div align="center">
And join The Bird’s dark platoon</div>
<div align="center">
You shall learn to live in night</div>
<div align="center">
Obeying ghouls made to fight</div>
<div align="center">
The blood shall be a ghastly shower</div>
<div align="center">
The Bird’s enemies shall run and cower</div>
<div align="center">
</div>
<div align="center">
The Bird of Hermes is my name</div>
<div align="center">
<span style="font-family: georgia;">Eating my wings to keep me tame</span></div>
</div>
</div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-2190723286610991212015-08-26T03:02:00.002-07:002015-08-26T03:02:47.007-07:00Ode to the Innocent<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Be the difference you are wanting to see<br />
But are you to stake yourself for it?<br />
In sin and repentance,<br />
Life in wait and we bide our time<br />
Lost be forever wherein guilty pleasures are found<br />
Glory be dreams,<br />
Scratching at the fiber in our hearts<br />
Search in words for a surrender<br />
Let love be sound. <br />
<br /></div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-8367676509386880872015-08-26T02:54:00.003-07:002015-08-26T02:54:39.174-07:00My Thought of the Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm the tragic protagonist of my story, where were you?</div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-35693551852914793962014-04-15T14:08:00.000-07:002014-04-15T14:08:22.584-07:00This is not a wave,<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Call it paraphernalia.</div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-71292657525169924452014-03-26T18:07:00.001-07:002014-03-26T18:07:21.581-07:00Lore of the last Tiger<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The day they came, I stood a cub with bated breath<br />
Knowing them as the moon people dawning with age<br />
They came by night, with fire eyeing the skies and,<br />
Soon after they scorched the land they caved on<br />
They burned the forest and the trees that whispered,<br />
They hounded up the wolves and chained them as dogs,<br />
and they killed our herds of deer we lived upon.<br />
<br />
And as the time came, it went;<br />
Soon everything had changed.<br />
<br />
The wind many winters surrendered to their smoke,<br />
Known men roamed the land or scrounged in the earth<br />
They toiled their days into nights brows furrowed and<br />
Soon they spread out claiming more and more of ours<br />
They hunted our brethren when we starved and feared<br />
They put up walls and blamed us for all that went wild,<br />
and the cub that watched now ran the last tiger.<br />
<br />
And as the time came, it went;<br />
Soon everything had changed.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-70467363786040268852014-03-10T00:43:00.002-07:002014-03-10T00:43:15.268-07:00For love and piety<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
in one so young to lose faith,<br />
where the children though bold<br />
complain whenever it be difficult<br />
as men lay with their woe and worries<br />
burden forever to their shoulders.<br />
Are to you sift through the silk of life<br />
languid in such darkness for pray<br />
reasons far for any of such innocence<br />
to hold and be dashed to oblivion<br />
far from the light of the lord shining true<br />
upon this little rock with its nature.<br />
<br /></div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-86503252427075706192014-02-07T21:58:00.000-08:002014-02-07T21:58:19.342-08:00Quotable Quotes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So far you've caught hold of logic but you have let go of reason...</div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-54371012613340900992013-12-01T04:02:00.000-08:002013-12-01T04:02:02.383-08:00Right on time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Some times in my life</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
I live with a mask of despair
Wondering
For all the sins I’m yet to commit
As the gallows of those lonely hours
Keep swinging against the dusky rays
To come into another day
Of emptiness</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
I keep turning round and round
Trying to catch just a glimpse of you
Torn
Between wanting a smile on your face
Or a tear in your eye to see if you care
No matter how many time I hear you say
That you love me
Is not just enough to be complete</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
There have been fools who have tried
To clean the clocks of destiny
Bleeding
As they see the world worsen to change
Smiles of the innocent children lost
And the money changing loose hands
So what is our sacrifice worth?
Against all that…</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
*</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
**</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
***</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
**</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
*</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
Raw</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
Bleeding out, sick and tired of fighting the world entire...</div>
</div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-73437520952545923032013-08-15T14:08:00.001-07:002013-08-15T14:08:54.051-07:00Wait a Minute -<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
If I'm diagnosed with split personality - am I entitled to more than one FACEBOOK account?</div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-59027004232033496122013-08-15T14:07:00.003-07:002013-08-15T14:07:24.156-07:00Revolutions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Somewhere, sometime in the many random arguments I've had I maintained that where originality fails, fashion recycles - and its happening again. I'm actually looking forward to black and white, on screen cigarettes, corsets, bohemian and beatnik revolutions. </div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-7866566730345522762013-08-08T15:55:00.000-07:002013-08-08T15:55:02.668-07:00Excerpt<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The strange part about a gun is that its a straight shooter. Guns don't pick sides. Now, the men behind it are a different matter all together. So what it comes to is this. Pick a side, don't deliberate... </div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-68904401048773768492013-07-20T15:44:00.001-07:002013-07-20T15:44:54.209-07:00One Night<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Slowly, strangely, I feel as if I am disappearing.<br />
Perhaps the ambiguity of never even existing<br />
Where did I begin? Wherever do I end,<br />
Maybe there is nothing much at first,<br />
To consider or even think,<br />
For that matter itself,<br />
Slowly, strangely, I feel as if I am disappearing.<br />
Perhaps the chance of having a single dream,<br />
What of it ? Who might understand?<br />
Maybe its better not to look forward,<br />
For that very thought,<br />
Slowly, strangely, I feel as if I am disappearing.<br />
Perhaps you have known me for a short while,<br />
Who are you? Who am I?<br />
Maybe its not meant to be,<br />
To even care,<br />
Slowly, strangely, I feel as if I am disappearing.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-79040186758963232802013-07-20T07:15:00.004-07:002013-07-20T07:15:48.883-07:00Wishing Upon A Fallen Star<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
To those stars that burn bright<br />
and few that fall,<br />
I wish upon you for the little I ask,<br />
To those dreams I dreamt many<br />
Like you have stumbled and fall'd;<br />
And as twilight turns to darkest dark<br />
I gaze on your last fiery crescendo,<br />
In hope to have not only my eynes <br />
But many;<br />
May they see you to grace<br />
and fulfill a simple wish that I dared,<br />
My prayer to you lies simple and true -<br />
Have all of them solemn wishes<br />
Turn fate to destiny for those eyes<br />
As they close in reverence to you.</div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-62722922341687447632013-07-20T07:02:00.001-07:002013-07-20T07:02:42.794-07:00Quote of the Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You will hear people say that poverty is the best spur to the artist.
They have never felt the iron of it in their flesh. They do not know how
mean it makes you. It exposes you to endless humiliation, it cuts your
wings, it eats into your soul like a cancer.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://encyclopedia2.tfd.com/Maugham%2c+Somerset" target="_top">W. Somerset Maugham</a> (1874-1965)</div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-28475096039800828622013-07-09T15:28:00.004-07:002013-07-09T15:28:53.113-07:00Words<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
If you can understand it<br />
its a song,<br />
If not,<br />
Its a poem.<br />
<br />
Stringing words together is harder than living.... <br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-48674936241258680082013-07-07T14:02:00.001-07:002013-07-07T14:02:07.601-07:00Writing - Ask Questions?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Over the years in those many pages that I've been writing, I've stumbled and fumbled for a word or a sentence here and there. Sometimes the matters were a little more complicated and I found myself wanting in between a story. Its a horrible feeling. I trust you know.<br />
<br />
However, I also noticed a there is always a method - which I ignore before I resort to madness and burn the entire thing. As a reference note for the future, here are a few questions that might help pave the way.<br />
<br />
What is the story about? - The first and foremost question. Followed by - Whose story is this.<br />
<br />
Every story has a beginning and a end. But that is never the problem. Its the middle that quirks the mind. No matter how much plot planning or set ups are followed, there is always a booby trap I fall into. Lets take the matters into hands and observe the questions of life which can be applied.<br />
<br />
One of my favorite elements like most writers is the fascination of death. Murder, mayhem, disease, tragedy, accident - ah, so many ways to kill a character.<br />
<br />
What kills John Doe? <br />
Is it dangerous? Is there a risk of contagion? Is there a cure? Is so, how to acquire?<br />
<br />
There is a story there itself as you figure the answers. Worked for me. <br />
<br />
Who killed John Doe?<br />
Who is the murderer? Who was John Doe? Why is he necessary? Is he expendable? What is the relationship between John Doe and Mr. X? What is Mr. X's motive? What could be said about his modus operandi? What are the clues left behind? Who would read it and chase after Mr.X?<br />
<br />
I'm sure by now its the goal of Mr. Hero to save the day by asking how and why Mr. X commit such a offense to mankind and society. The best way is to activate thought provoking objectives and dialogue, inner and outer the self of any of the above mentioned characters. Complexities are always welcome.<br />
<br />
The Hero's Journey - <br />
<br />
Allow another hazard - what drives Mr. Hero? Could he be protecting someone he loves? Or is he fuels from some past tragedy or inner demon? Where does Mr.Hero come in? What is his goal? What lies in the way of the said goal? What are his qualities that make him different from the rest? What are his flaws and how does it find him wanting? Every hero needs a quest. No matter what the age. <br />
<br />
But that is the matter of fiction!<br />
What if I wish to come closer to life? What are the wants of an individual to come to self actualization? What drives personal satisfaction? - Notice that asking these very questions drives you automatically in first person which makes the story personal not only to the writer but the reader as well who is forced into self introspection. Just don't make the mistakes I do, and keep a strong romantic drive. Nothing fuels a good book or a film like a girl or a gun. I unfortunately choose the gun.<br />
<br />
Again, the most important question;<br />
<br />
Whose story is it? Who is the protagonist? Is there an antagonist? If so, who? Deuteragonist? Tritagonist?<br />
<br />
Romantic Interest - Who is she? What does she want? Whats her problem? <br />
<br />
Generally the questions I ask when I come across a lass - I think I now understand why I remain unlucky in that aspect.<br />
<br />
What makes her strong? What keeps her strong? What is her goal? What is standing her way? Focus on inner monologues - women are intuitive in that way.<br />
<br />
Who chases who? Why? For what? What are the odds? <br />
<br />
The traditional Love Story -<br />
the course of true love is always set on the path of difficulties and tragedies. Take a look at Shakespeare. He's a genius in that way. Juliet feigns death - Romeo must die. Viola must test her mans worth?<br />
<br />
So,<br />
Who is he? Who is she? Do birds of a feather flock together? or, Do opposites attract? So what makes them a match made in heaven? Or hell? Are they star crossed lovers? What pulls them together? What takes them apart? What are the difficulties set their way? How do they overcome it? Do they make ends meet?<br />
<br />
Now that we are through with the characters, lets look at the plot.<br />
<br />
Where and when does the story take place? Whose story is it? Who are the friends? Is there family involved?<br />
<br />
The Human Condition: What is childhood like? What does it mean growing up? What gives anger, pain, frustration, grief, sorrow, jealousy, hostility, enmity -<br />
<br />
Basic Human emotions - Joy, Sorrow, Fear, Anger - even the most complex of emotions fall in these categories. Go figure. The best part is that life is stranger than fiction. People are impulsive, they are like dice that throw themselves in the direction of their choosing. <br />
<br />
<br />
</div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-39899407669278870702013-06-26T02:48:00.001-07:002013-06-26T02:48:28.505-07:00Deviation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
For the sole sake of consideration, a hammer and a gun are nothing more than tools. Its purpose and the intent of it is what defines it. For instance, if you take the gun to hunt and forage it becomes a tool or moreover an instrument of survival. But if you take the hammer to kill your fellow man, it becomes a weapon. <br />
</div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-23255188424329936732013-06-22T09:20:00.003-07:002013-06-22T09:20:42.504-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Clothes have more effect upon us than we imagine. Our deportment depends upon our dress. <br />
<a href="http://encyclopedia2.tfd.com/Jerome%2c+Jerome+Klapka" target="_top">Jerome K. Jerome</a> (1859-1927)<br />
<br />
Leather suit?</div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-17862149505388492282013-06-17T16:37:00.001-07:002013-06-17T16:37:18.397-07:00Tea? Coffee? Cigarettes?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Brittle, prattle little china,<br />
Sitting shiny in a huff,<br />
It is tea and sugary,<br />
Sip my dear and answer,<br />
Is the world entire in a cup?<br />
<br />
Brown almond eyes, red lips<br />
Rose petals, dove white snow<br />
Quick as lightning, silver tongue<br />
Simple woman, mother of pearl<br />
One kiss, summer in dreams.<br />
<br />
Faces long, tired and anguished<br />
Nobody knows where they go<br />
As time slips and it ebbs<br />
Deeper within as the blood flows<br />
Like always, sheer silence in pretense.<br />
<br />
Bread sticks, and tomato soup<br />
Bit of butter to make it better<br />
Always warm, always fulll<br />
A strangers hand though be sour<br />
But love's touch be ne'er wrong. </div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713146690598870851.post-40722903703817230342013-06-17T16:26:00.001-07:002013-06-17T16:38:18.207-07:00Red I Pray, Blue I Stay<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Roses have wilted with the coming winter,<br />
much of life has withered and died.<br />
I have been sitting here for sometime now,<br />
Waiting and watching, reckoning on<br />
Everything that I gaze upon, strangely;<br />
The world itself seems turning blue<br />
Breaking into my sight of very reality.<br />
Before I am too far gone and lost;<br />
Even the chimes of church bells once jubiliant,<br />
seem to echo the throes of a widows tears,<br />
if there be something as nothingness.<br />
It is still enough for any of us to hold on to,<br />
on my purpose, and no hope nor prayers;<br />
can stop my breath as it turns to<br />
a rattle of that life, all which is left. </div>
Aneerudh Gangulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02921399432234291937noreply@blogger.com0