29.8.10

Angels

*To S
Who is one,
perhaps the only one, I know*



Solitary souls.
Oceans of tears in their breasts
hidden. Set out
As the sun sets
To drink those of others-
Wailing children, weeping mothers,
Ailing old men and dying lovers-
Hand in hand
As they fall
No shape of beauty moves away the pall*
And darkness engulfs.


Tired, they return
Cry rivulets
But the oceans flow still
And again, as the sun sets
The work begins-
Drink more
And more
And yet more of Their Sins.



* From Keats' Endymion

19.8.10

Apocalypse





Not long ago they sat and drank
The poison of their dreams.
Not long ago they ate it up
As bread with milk and cream.

Not long since the world had ended
All torn and split and burned.
Not long ago the Gods abandoned
The dead in their graves turned.

Not long, the Son of God he came
To wash the Sins of Man.
Not long since the Man he tried
To do all that he can.

But that was that and now they sat
The Masters and the Lords.
Drinks did rounds and toasts were made
To The World and its New Gods.








**************



(Written in response to Prompt#8 at Flash Fiction and can also be read here

4.8.10

Random Epic Convo on facebook

Friend: what the hell does your status on Gtalk mean?

(The status being:
I test my bath before I sit,
And I'm always moved to wonderment
That what chills the finger not a bit
Is so frigid upon the fundament)

Me: Go google Ogden Nash

Friend: he is the blogging guy
isnt he?

Me: ugh. no
i hate you.

Friend: ok

Me: go die.

Friend: will do then





_______________________________________________________________________________


This was copy-pasted on facebook and what followed was a deluge of comments that shall be reproduced here in full.








River:


ON to MV: 
The fate of any artiste is that one day his name will be ash.
Whether he be Shakespeare or he be Nash.
But to be known as The Blogging Guy
Yes Mihir Vatsa,, go sodding die.

KS- pls convey




Me:

Ah! Such brilliance pouring fourth
MV I think should head North
And north his head he should
For I'm sure it's nothin' but wood.



Friend:

1. I didn't know Ogden Nash.
2. I know him now. Thanks to WP.
3. He died far long ago to be remembered now unless you've read his poems in your school textbooks.
4. "He is known for his LIGHT verses."
DOES THE GTalk STATUS OF [KREATION] LOOKS LIGHT TO ANYONE??



Friend:

Curse me for my bad grammar!!! I should better die! :(
*LOOK.



Me:

Yes, die you should, 'tis time 'tis time
or atleast, i beg, turn into a mime
for water now overflows from the cup
Mihir Vatsa, 'tis time you shut up.



River:

Trust me, Mihir, it is no crime,
To forget a man who has lived and died and whose memories have been washed away with time.
But when the stress and worry and grimness and melancholy of modern life gedya,
Do you plan to search for lightness and
 mirth in wikipedya???



Friend:

KS KS Oh my nanny,
How you remember the crushes of my granny,
Ogden Nash was a name ago,
Now search for MV and here you go!



River:





Search for MV and you get links to a facebook page.
Search for Ogden, or just Og, and you get a plethora of poems that refuse to age...
That is the difference, Mihir, that Kriti and i meant.
Your name is written with a stick on a sandy beach, 
and his is like paw marks on cement.



















Friend:





Oh O! Sorry to break the rhyme, but CDLR, did you really google my name???

There can't be anyone more lame than you!!
















Me:





Also, no that I think of it
What irks me more is you didn't know him 'cause he's long dead
Mihir Vatsa, try and use your head
We had Nash in school, yes. You're doing Homer in class instead
Says he doesn't know Nash, lousy beefcan
Nobody even knows if Homer was a real man!



River:

I do my research, just like you.
I had no way of knowing whether you have invented some nobel winning drug or been part of an antartic crew.
I admit it's lame to spend hours writing bad poetry to rag people i don't know.
But at least when i've
 been out-ragged by someone, i don't let my defensiveness show.



Me:

Yet again, Vatsa you cry buckets
I'm telling you to please go check your suckets
All messed up are your receptacles
Adjust those stupid spectacles
And notice you're the tennis ball and we the ruckets
.



Friend: 

The tennis ball apologizes, bends its head
says sorry to the rackets, lets his tears shed,
Knowledge of the literature he has none,
Thought the chat on GTalk was just for fun.


KS is the guardian angel,
Educating me on FB from the google messenger,
Yet the subject apologizes for the sake of juniority,
Thinks Ogden Nash was the poet of the highest superiority.

CDLR, never knew you were batch '04,
The 6th and 7th search on google, should probably let you know more,
I bet you are the best ragger I ever saw,
Insist you take the post and we forever know.

And now I am,
A juvenile Sam,
Realized my true stamp,
and now off to a sleepy ramp. 



_________________________________________________________________


P.S.: Curse blogger for the spaces, yet again.

1.8.10

A year. :)

It's August 1 again. 


A year.




One wish.


MAY TUBELIGHTS SHINE FOREVER.


The same promise.








Love :)