I wrote something

Write anything

Write anything

to pretend!

 

Extend extensively.

 

Lets get lost

in the corrosive rust

defied denied

with sleepy screaming eyes

STOP

this informal bonanza

charade of crisp illustrations

 

the breeze of essence..Profound..

 

Go, read the anthologies of dead enthusiasts

monkey benders coughing shiny sabers

with curved blades

Clouds sliced, chopped and spliced

thunders sprinkled tragedies irregularly

 

With dry stains on wet shirts

and loose strides on bone-china flooring

That sticky velvet

stuck on cylinders who flew in the air

without suspenders

 

Why virtuous liberation talked to

docile desperation?

 

Sticky figures in cutgrass

cutting fingers of concrete

there is no contrast

contrast is synonymous.

 

Signed

– A (dot)

Ode to blabbering

A board saying ‘Danger’ got lost

Anger bloomed insidiously inside me.

 

Beside me, a girl drifted away conspicuously

Besides me, she had to kill her monstrous talks.

 

Copiously, I filled the cup of laughter and allowed some laughs to spill on the table.

Consciously, I danced with naked feet in the colony of cobblers.

 

Diffused light made me blind from the right eye..dazed

Diluted world started looking deflated to me.

 

Engrossed in the hustle bustle of ladder-finding/climbing

Escapism excited the juvenile in me.

 

Finding and binding the dreams made no sense

Fiddling with the reality became futile and I fibbed flawlessly.

 

Gregariously, I started blabbering something related to mucus and it went on for hours

Graciously, I chopped someone’s tongue in order to show greed for his brand thoughts.

 

Horrendous it was, when I tried to be polite with them

Horny, I felt, when I read Anais Nin and that night she came in my dream.

 

Infantile nihilism in me, took its last breath & shrieked

Ingeniously, I made a chair of bones and broke it into pieces.

 

Jagged was my jaunt in the lonely times

Jaywalking with James made Brando jealous.

 

Kindergarten kids empathized me and offered me their cerelac

Ku Klux Klan wanted me to join them as an intern for four bananas per day.

 

‘Lumberjack’ was the designation and the place was Machu Pichhu

Liberated and flustered, I said “Yes” and they made me marry an 8 ft midget.

 

Memphis was the place where she got raised and resurrected

Masochistic, her face looked with high cheek bones and limpid eyes.

 

Necrophilia amused me so I sent her to dig potatoes and only the potatoes came back

Nostalgia blurred my left eye so I came back to the seaside.

 

Ophthalmologist warned me to not to watch porn in excess

Ostracized I felt and I went to hide in a bookshop.

 

Plato was discussing gambling with Dostoevsky

Proust, Bukowski & Miller were ogling girls in the New Arrival corner.

 

Quadrilateral shaped man asked me if I had read kafka & understood?

Quailed by the quaint question, I started quarreling in quandary.

 

Radiant smile from him shook my randomness

Rebuffed by his raunchy smile I ran out, reached the seashore where waves were getting wet.

 

Stumbling like a sacred cow mumbling like a tragic Brando

Silently, I swerved to a deserted ghetto, swearing & praising everyone in sight

Snickering gloriously, littering the ghetto with the pieces of my un-poetic impotent prose.

 

Tired kid tilted a tumble in front of me which had red water from the red sea

Tacitly he trimmed my hair, told me the travesties which he had seen.

 

Unsympathetic, as usual, I ignored him (unsympathetically pathetic)

Unadulterated, unaffected, understated, unashamedly I danced again.

 

Victory – I thought is old fashioned

Vagueness of vagrancy had a vaginal purity, I thought.

 

Waddling made my feet look like my palms

Waffling like a charlatan made me feel like god or dog and I saw my tongue dangling.

 

Xerox copies of me were wandering in vain and the place was infinity

Xoxo’s of mother resuscitated me; they were in the electronic waves.

 

Yearned for a yawn; yodeling was a waste; newspapers dripping of social crap -ignored

Yesterday was not today but today will be yesterday..constipated, I met

 

Zarathustra, told me how it was in the wilderness and people couldn’t dig his thoughts

Zoned out and caved in, I walked on the streets of solitude and slept on a sea of unknown shoulders.

 

 

– A (dot)

Artist-Spectator..a love story

 

Artist –

Forget curtains

watch me

how fluid I am

in whatever I do

I am shamelessly smart

so you smell the stench

of my fart

of a performance

without further ado

 

Spectator –

My eyes & ears are open

my mental cunt is closed

you don’t titilate me enough

I cant sit here with your foes

like a body, decomposed..

YOU fracture art

then you call it an ‘arty fart’

you philosophise amatuer-ish-ness

you need more sand on your stage

rub it in your eyes

if you want to be a sage

 

Artist – 

You fool, you are a mere spectator

what do you know about art?

‘Traitor’ you will be called

if you don’t witness the end, from the start..

I see you are blessed with big mouth

and a sentimental brash tongue

first count the rashes on your skin

and then tell me about Gaugin

You are just another jerk-off

from the debris of mediocrity

we, artists, are unlucky

that you praise us, only after calamities

I question your audicity

coz’ in my eyes

you are born out of paucity

Sit down and praise me now

or that’ll be considered a ‘foul’

 

Spectator –

oh, Great Artist! you are good

you can surely amuse me

but I am not here to laugh on your face

Everyone is an artist

while standing at your place

but me..

I praise when its worth it

I can patronize you

I can see that you are in dearth of it

Don’t misunderstand me

coz’ I am standing on my own feet

unlike you,

you stoop so low

to hear the broken mistaken sound of claps, and its beat

I am just here to heal you

not to suppress your urge to perform

coz’ I know

suppression leads to aggresion

and aggression melts the form

you carry on with your digression

let me take care of my digestion

 

Artist – 

From now on, you will be called a

‘Nincompoop’

coz’ you are neolithic and you belong to poop

I suffer for art, I loose my appetite

you should be dragged out of premises

you are uptight and not bright

you have a spine made of snakes, you have glass eyes

confusion reigns your words, ‘liquid’ your conscience

I should freeze you and break you like ice

and would suffice

 

Spectator –

fuck off, I am done with this shit

 

…..and you’ll have to clean

piles of shit before you sleep

piles of shit before you sleep..

 

–a/an/the end

 

 

– A (dot)