hibernating in a jar
full of liquid tears
of diminishing hope
and rancid fears

i await rebirth
in a brave new land
you and me
hand in hand

your tempting lips
magical eyes
bewitching smile
and resultant sighs

free me from here
to be held there
before you
my soul, bare

i sat as usual at the window
it was a day not so clear
i could see two horses galloping
the weather was that of fear

the white one seemed near
so did the black one
sometimes terror
alternating with fun

the fog in my mind
brought mist to my eyes
reliving life
in all its truth and lies

wondering if the white would
bring all its glories to me first
the need,the love, the warmth
or the black one , death

come butterfly lets fly
to a land far away
over the hills
across the clouds

where we play our music
far away from
this maddening crowd
a peaceful haven

where the stars call us
the moon hides
her face shyly
n we befriend the sun

where a new world dawns
n the sun never sets
come butterfly lets fly
to a land far away

calling me to party
ten thousand fireflies
but me paralysed
by a thousand lies

i crave to go with them
but i dont
always the hesitant one
though i want , i wont

but one day
i shall change
shall run away
out of range

not far into
the future
but soon
too soon

the cool breeze lulled me
into a deep sleep
a body of flesh and bones

lay in an ueven heap

the summer was very sunny
trees with multi coloured leaves
the many chirping birds
to the youth , this scene easliy deceives

 
then arrived the winter. in full white
nude trees. the cold breeze
imprisoned by a frail body
and numourous disease

the cool breeze lulled me
into a deep sleep
a body of flesh and bones

lay in an uneven heap

HUG ME HOLD ME
SQUEEZE ME CARESS ME
DONT LET ME FALL
THE DEEP DARK RAVINES LURE ME

BE MY ANCHOR
IN THESE ROUGH UNEVEN WATERS
BE MY SAIL AND GUIDE ME
THROUGH ENEMY WINDS

BE THE GUIDING STAR
IN MY JOURNEY
UNTO THE FINAL DESTINATION
THAT THE ALMIGHTY LORD IS

BE A TRUE FRIEND
AMDIST THESE FAKES
DONT LET ME FALL
THE DEEP DARK RAVINES LURE ME

once upon a time
a violin strummed happily
w/o fear w/o restriction
fingers tip toeing merrily

the musician , a perfectionist
strung the strings tighter
played it by the ear
to make it sound lighter

the violin made good music
till that one string played
the twang was all wong
the musician thought it brayed

he flung it on the ground
the good strings broke
and the violin played

only sad music from that day

yet again the same day dawned

the excitement the thrill

the freshness the newness

the festivites

friends wish ,some close ones

some new ones

some too close
for comfort

n then the really regular ones
come to party

sorrow pain n tears

reminding me of my hidden fears

sorrow claps pain cheers
tears blow out the candles

and then the birthday boy

weeps his song , yet again

The flashlights swung frantically. Joe screamed.He had found the footprint or was it a hoofprint in the wet mud. Everyone stood in their tracks, frozen by the hoofprint as if it were medusa’s head. It was Joe who gathered strength to touch it finally.

It closely resembled a horse’s hoof but yet the shape was different and which horse had two feet!!? Yes , there were just two imprints and not four. What on earth was this thing that had rocked this sleepy village of Antrim. Antrim, a  small sleepy town with a typical run of the mill guiness drinking blokes. The town had no economy worth mentioning. The typical pub , the mechanic, the barber, the priest and so on. Each depending on each other’s need for their business.

In this laid  back scene came this devil or whatever it was. Already cattle were found dead. It had attacked a boy of 15 years, but before he became a meal, he had raised an alarm and the villagers soon gathered. He was actually the only witness to have seen this thing. He saw a creature with green skin , large bloodshot eyes and horns. Half human and half  horse, making grunting noises and walking, galloping rather very fast. The town priest got into his ‘change your evil ways for, the end is near’ routine. Pub discussions grew. People sat for hours discussing ways to catch the beast. Soon tourists landed in Antrim. The “amused with the beast’s stories” kind of tourists and the self proclaimed beast hunters. Even the regular run of the mill tourists came by, recorded the stories from the villagers, bought the key chains, amulets, t shirts, proclaiming ‘the beast is here’. But the beast became all the more emboldened. It started picking up more cows, lambs, with impunity. The local police were too scared to actually arrange a stake out at night. Night cameras did not turn up anything. Soon the tale turned into legend. A museum came up in the village, showcasing the creature’s hair, teeth and even a piece of its yellowed nail.

The tourist came in droves but the locals wernt complaining. They had managed to turn the town’s fortune on its head. And they had nothing to fear, not even the creature, for it lay peacefully in Joe’s closet, only occassionaly coming to life when Joe and the villagers wanted it to.