Let sip life until nocturnals ring the bell—
Sip life until the glass is full of poison.
Meeting the monster in a park—
He was absent-minded then,
was busy munching Chestnut.
When I’ve got closer, he offered Chestnut!
What else to say, it felt like I eating man’s flesh!
He is incredible, the wondrous clown on Earth!
The man is varicolored;
likely the striped tiger in a cloth!
His eyes as if gleaming doleful pain.
Is it sorcery?
Trying over again but failed to regain:
Who I am, and am for what reason?
The History and the duck
Heidegger was precisely correct:
History and the duck eventually be equal
Both are swims in the arid river.
The man slipped in a manhole
Just after exit from Plato’s hole!
The dying star
Nothing is enough to hide this grief—
The brightest star in the sky wipes out sudden!
Think twice before nailed you in the grave
Let think before escaped the maze
Yeah think once:
You were not walking in the rose-garden.
The cherry butterfly is flying and sitting overtly on Foucault’s baldhead. This little insect along with its varied wings, yeah, looking cherish to expose Foucault’s maxim. The baldhead man, to hide his wound about being hairless, and to get some pleasure thinking about hairy men’s fate, he then vented this tricky smile:—Oh! Yeah, power is everywhere!
… … …
I promise I’ll never say anything…
about the fate and future of humans.
To be cured, spewing what you’ve inhaled.
Man is none but the legendary Ouroboros
Eating its own tail every day.
Professor writes E=mc² in the blackboard
The studious boy, an obedient follower of life
Sitting just between of everything,
Even then, the distance is extrasolar!
It seems I stayed far away from everything.
I’ve nothing to say!
Not wanting to talk even:
When you people are still parroting life.
They buried him in the graveyard
and then leaving him like rejected
covertures in this forlorn city.
‘Whatever I’ll say it will true, I’ll not tell lie except truth.’ The witness has given his testimony in the court. Hearing all this Bhartṛhari laughed: ‘Whatever I said everything is false’!
The dog is now strolling in the street. He looked adamant to bite somebody as if the centenary professional killer. To see him in the street I get worried thinking about his fate that the pity dog cannot bite even the notorious or naive someone!
I know I know he has no guts to bite somebody! When he will get someone to bite, the lazy crap will enter its lair by wrapped his phony tail.
… … …
Image Source: The Kiss by Pablo Picasso, 1969; Web Courtesy: Google Images;
Love is a merciless stone
Demands marmoreal severity.
Nothing to say more:
All words have gone vain
When I look at your face
The brightest star in the sky
With a loud noise fell into the black hole.
Nudity is the daughter of dumb dead silence.
A white paper and the nudity is identical
Unless someone is scratching
The sewing machine is reeling to wrap-up.
You are not good looking or else debonair
Neither queers or else looking less tender
You have no adjectives to define—
That’s why nude!
The distance between birth and death is concealment.
This is veneer and this is life.
Distance has gone when there is
no veneer might remain.
This is nudity! The everlasting border of life!
Sanity and insanity
Sanity is not a remedy for lovers
Sweet love is blind about sanity
Love is insane and always so
One if thinks about his insane desire—
That he carries for his beloved one.
Life and Death
The man, who survived before going to die, let him congrats. Who died despite his unwillingness, be congratulate him too. The one who was not willing to live and is dead now, that man, who has gone beyond to life and death, congratulation is not enough for his bravery!
… … …
Humans in one word colorful in outside,
but deep dark inside.
Mask’s store: he bought the whole of six,
and then quickly mingles in the crowd!
Getting tired to see the mirror—
The mirror is tired too—seeing me.
I’m the voyeurist like Vermeer!
Hides my notoriety, love to see life
by peeping through the window.
Don’t want to know:
Why sprouting flowers waking from sleep!
Don’t even try to guess:
Why they are lessening before the grief is full!
The bird flies to the north, see nothing but the prison
She takes flight to the south and met the prison again
Fluttered her wings to the east and west:
What to say sees the same prison over and again!
The only thing that is to do all day long is to see people,
with the discomfort of having a thorn in the throat.
… … …
The past looks blurry compared to the present. The future is agnostic on comparison of both. Anyway, the present looks always notorious when one thinks he is in the trolley problem. Yeah, he should forget what was going in the past and what’ll wait for him in the future. Albeit if he is living in the present he cannot sacrifice his past and to the same never would exist until thinking further about his future. Because the past was once staying in present and future is nothing but the present, that might come out to the womb of the past. So what is past? The past is none but the moment’s whiff of the present. Then what be the future? It’s the same momentary jingle of the present. Then what one says about the present? Present might be a deception of timing that the past is always rumination of former present and future maybe the cogitation for coming present.
Between the game of former and coming present might exist there as frail and transient. So, Mr. X decides from now he will let him go to the moment without paralyzed his mind to think farther about the triad amentia, that is the past, the present, and the future!
… … …
… The man, who survived before going to die, let him congrats. Who died despite his unwillingness, be congratulate him too. The one who was not willing to live and is dead now, that man, who has gone beyond to life and death, congratulation is not enough for his bravery!…