thesocratespot: It was fun really I kept swigging Dry And straig...

thesocratespot: It was fun really
I kept swigging
Dry
And straig...: "It was fun really I kept swigging Dry And straight Had no agenda Really Soma seemed Fully Under control I had no complaints I Enjoye..."

It was fun really
I kept swigging
Dry
And straight
Had no agenda
Really
Soma seemed
Fully
Under control
I had no complaints
I
Enjoyed
the companionship
I kept looking
I was in
I was out
Who was moving
who was not
What
How
Why
Giggles
Buzz
I stay
Stoic

shadows make sound

Shadows shadows shadows
making noises ?
I couldn’t ignore
You should only be making shapes
Not noises
I said
The shadow said
Just to spite
I smiled
Good try

iyer

my road

I was walking along that lonely road , the sun was scorching and the sky looked raped and I had lost my shoes – wasn’t easy , with my ultra thin 40gsm cotton tunic and nothing much else; The road was burning hot and the vegetation scarce, thorny , ugly - all forms of life seemed cockroaching away from that bastard sun , all except me. I had no choice really , for I had to go on , in fact I had to , there really was no choice .
Parched, thirsty, I looked at the black , thin, vomit and urine spilled water stream as I crossed it – it gave no solace ( added to my smirk ) but it definitely had the pigs , dogs & bitches almost drowning me but fortunately they saw I was walking and they slouched back – looking away from me- almost instantly they were so busy digging the cool , dark slush and dirt that even the crows and eagles respected their dirty , dirty turf .
I
I walked on
For I had to
Walk on

Sd/-
Iyer

mind mine

Mind mine
(by the end of
September )

it left me
feeling
slow?

like loosing
your
breath
then
your sight
then
your senses
and then

your
life

its autumn

and the leaves
they are all
deserting

and I
stood nude
when even
the barks
they bid

goodbye

and i?

lonemariner

Lone mariner

An old
un-sea worthy
betrayed but bold
white boat

seemed it had
sailed
many a rough
sea
before

but now
it lay
tired
along with
its lone
occupant
the lone mariner

a jagged pattern of
dark peels of wood
cut through
the fading paint

like
wounds
slashed
by
mad
butchers

even the sea
seemed
sad
as it
softly
lapped
itself
onto the jagged
broken
wooden
carriage
of the
old
ragged
white boat


small even by standards
of big and small.

the mariner lay sprawled
skin
burnt
parched
lips
half
shut
eyes

linen and skin
firmly starched
assaulted
by
salt

an all weather
man
the lone mariner

metastasize

ah! who among my dear writer friends gathered here can help me ? get over the loneliness that accompanies independence and the uneasiness that shadows freedom ? i feel i am far too free, far too independent , far too lonely , far too uneasy to ... u there can i carry that coffin ? i wanna feel that cold wood that carries the dead.

thesocratespot: Unfound

thesocratespot: Unfoundhttp://http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nu6o53LtU6Y

Unfound

How on earth did i manage this ?
of traveling this far ?
i have often reflected on this
45 years and all that !

Must surely be someone's idea of a good joke
have a feeling that someone just dropped me
in a hurry
and did not bother
to search or retrieve me
'coz it did not matter anyways
for what use are inconsequential objects ?

those things
that are allowed to be casually lost ?
or those
that are deliberately
allowed to simply slip out ?
those
when dropped
do not even make a sound ?

like those
utterly useless crap
that you sometimes slip
into your pocket
and then (say)
you had a hole in your pocket
and they simply dropped off ?

no, no not necessarily the kind of holes
that happen to those without a dime
i am talking about a hole
thats simply a hole
thats all

And that simple hole
that lost something irrelevant,
say a plastic coat button ?


And i being
lost and unfound
simply went about
like most unfound

Rolling here
moving there
sometimes hither
sometimes thither
sometimes wither

always inconsequentially

always like all forces

UNFOUND

Mick and his Graceful Washing Machine

Mumbai

oppressive, sweaty,obese
inch by inch
the fat alligator
crawls

numbed to slowness
the creature
moves
a sizzling splendour of
measled and venereal
skin

a dead
relationship
betwixt
a man and a woman
nature and god
love and betrayal
soul and heart

now a natural
state

except

mick's washing machine

quite, efficient, loyal
and smart

mumbai could learn
from it

sriram

revel

Musing on a New Year’s Eve…Apostacy!

Her last words still echoed
As a huge jumbo roared
Right above .

“Laugh with the whore and pass the pass Word”

Suddenly

You were
tugged
inside,
pushed along an assembly line
You heard a chorus cry !

Look ! The bitch is already inviting !

You

look at the dish ,you are about to yield,
she smiled , as she gestured -

A salsaed pelvic thrust

“Now !
Here’s the truth , partially revealed” !

You moan as you see
she had mixed red wine sorbeth
with black opiate sauce
and
moisturised it into thin air,
to start your agonising parody

And time, it stood still .

You slowly gyrate to the beat
of an insaneful pantomime
that white moon rose
and
took the chorus to a crescendo,
pounding blood
mingled with fear & perfumed sweat




“Sweet sensation give me more wine”

And , time will find its insane will, disposable sun shine?

She urged, closer she surged,
you smiled not knowing why ,
you give in to your irresistable concubine.

Soon you started to revel & as she stifled a scream
And
‘it’
passed taking you past a séance
of crimson colored cream
invariably you glanced
at events behind
quickly turn past ,past the present ,
as you muse to yourself ,
isn’t that the only colour of the mind?

She whispers in your ear ,as if reading your mind,”

You are always in the past
So revel without a cause, Isn’t that the only present ?”
You think,
And

time ?
it still stood still

It was then you heard the ‘siren’
you peep,
you see a bleak torch right behind -

Amidst the chaos you hear a cry !

Come! You pantomime son of a bitch !
You know not why ,you laugh
You know not why, you cry
Now you ask me why ?”
Said she
As she flashed a plastic bottle of port wine !

“You sons & daughters from a revealed heaven,
get drunk to your present , and jerk to your past
for that’s the only ‘mind’
You are allowed to know
that’s the only mind
you will ever know


‘life Is a pantomime fuck , a son of an indulgent witch!

So revel , revel without a cause
and she will reveal
with just a little pause
before finally hissing
isn’t life a long menopause ? you helplessly laugh
And time , it continued to stand still …


Sriram


Dedicated to ‘K’ , ‘S’ & Fly .,

inter alia

Inter alia


Listen , I’m no
Moralist, nor am I a
Fundamentalist

In fact for
Better
Or for
Worse
I suffer no wishlist


But, then if u think
I am a republican
stink

Let me refuse
I am neither a
Democratic
Sphinx

Well?

I think the whole
Actually
Is on a roll

Believe me


The Whole by its roll

Is surely

Focused

To give us back

Our lost

Central role


Sriram

hmmm...muse more

Hmmmm !

“Musings” ! I was averred once –
just as I was hurrying , with a bunch of them ,
clutched –

“Are better kept cupped , better closeted” .

Sagely , I remember , this well wisher ,
had continued ,“it’s a Pandora’s burden –
my friend, best left forgotten”.

“Lock , stock and barrel” – he gestured , as I stood
rooted there listening , in trance - numb .

Though continuing to clutch ,
his object of complaint – with more life ,

All four fingers and white thumb!

“No, don’t ever let the devil Cast
even a germ of a doubt and aspersion
– don’t ever think
what if ?”

“Let will not Will”

“Please , he pleaded

Not even when you feel , sick
And ill , or driven up the hill” .

“Alone , it better exist
Alone let it cease” – he had concluded .

As he patted my back
Smiled his warm smile
And briskly sped on his
Shaky old bicycle .

I mused , and , continued
The seed of doubt was gnawing


It was an itch , a , terrible
Terrible itch –

An irresistible calling , my
White thumb grew whiter still
The clutch in hand , seemed
Totally imapatient

I looked around
desperate

In this dark valley
pray who will share my burden ?



Sriram

random bull 2

End of monarchy was probably the greatest test of modern human civilisational progress – combined by the might of conflicting Socio – Political, Socio Economic , Socio – Socio thoughts the world of the swingin 50’s and 60’s were not as Black & White as the films made then; It was probably the most difficult period of Human Civilisation - wars weren’t natural, women stopped being submissive, nationalism along with Elliot became rootless, god was dead and men stopped exhibiting dicks to the most submissive bidder – but if you had the passion , you could use films to display your prominent index finger up north.

Random bull 2

End of monarchy was probably the greatest test of modern human civilisational progress – combined by the might of conflicting Socio – Political, Socio Economic , Socio – Socio thoughts the world of the swingin 50’s and 60’s were not as Black & White as the films made then; It was probably the most difficult period of Human Civilisation - wars weren’t natural, women stopped being submissive, nationalism along with Elliot became rootless, god was dead and men stopped exhibiting dicks to the most submissive bidder – but if you had the passion , you could use films to display your prominent index finger up north.

i was observing them

I was observing them
Donne , Dryden, Keats
& Shelley

In an animated axis

‘Y’ was there body
‘X’ was the facial angle

Nobody spoke

The noise of the boeing
Marginally Screwed
Their expressions

But, once it landed
It actually made them bright -

So what if ?

We aren’t nature ?
Nature isn’t we ?

So whats is good ?
Whats evil ?

Vengeance may still
Be ‘his’

We on earth may yet find
It impossible to destroy

But, the company
BELIEVED

There’s relief
In destruction .


Sriram

Hijab

Hijab

Those eyes refused penetration,
no trespassing they said – firm.

Those eyes – they only seemed
firm .

Those eyes,
they were wet
oscillating
avoiding
insinuating –
searching , fleeting
every part
of ether ,
except those
that had humans -
except those -
that had
desire.

Those eyes ,
those desires.

Those eyes
they seemed
to have learnt
to respond
to ordains
primordial;
respond to
unknown tribulations

Those eyes, those veils
they had unknown potentials,
and, yet seemed
so much against the very
essence of
eyes.


Those eyes,
they seemed conditioned to avoid
they were sworn – to be void
despite they being the only visible
part of her anatomy – and yeah they knew
they held magic .

And yeah
those eyes
they knew
they could also be tragic.

One look . That’s it?

All for god, all for religion, all
For what ?


Those eyes ,
they seemed to have an expertise
all their own , the more keen you
look , ( you seek , you explore )
the more elusive
they seemed .

Those eyes,
they too seek
they too yearn
they too thirst
for that one long
deep look.

They do –
unknown to others
quietly
softly
quickly
breathlessly.

Those eyes.

Those veils.

Those eyes, those veils
they were past masters
at the game – they suggested they loved to
favor nothing but the void .

Those eyes, those veils
those oaths of hypocrisy.


Those eyes, those veils
you yearned
just to arrest them (if not to own them )
the more you tried to catch them
the more elusively they managed -
to remain elusive.

Those eyes ,
they were
veil behind veils
lust behind lust
magic behind magic
leash behind leash
embattling

divinity
dignity
birth
rights
death.

Freedom


What is it about veils
that refuses unveil?


Bah ! Their promise of
hidden beauty .

Beauty behind beauty?
Bah.

Those veils ,
were like the secret
transvestite.

Afraid to reveal
afraid to hide
afraid to roam
afraid .


Those eyes , those veils
those leashed wants –
so much they themselves
yearned – for anarchy,
for free , mad, insane nudity .

Those eyes,
they knew they had the expertise.

To tantalize voyeurism
taunt taunt taunt
Sigh !

Those eyes.
those veils .


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sriram
7th Sep’08
Mahindra Hills
Sec’bad


Brief

Ref. The Hindu Dtd. Sunday literary Review
Pg 3 , ‘To Veil or not to Veil’
The Veil: Women Writers on its History , Lore, and Politics .- By Jennifer Heath , University Of California Press, 2008.

Hamlet

Hamlet


The woods kept moving away from me
the witches were nowhere behind .

It’s the ghost who kept me company ,
like I , mine .

Who am I ?
What am I ?

Who’s he?
What’ s he?

Who are they ?
What are they ?

What is real ? and what is
What ?

If

Only If

They Knew , I knew ,
That I never knew , they never knew ?

I kept working

Slow

As would slow


Sriram

Brownie

Brownie


There

I am

Tossed , turned

motionless

Blind as a
Flying bat

Welcome to the container
My neighbour , howled ,
As she got bombarded

And I watched , Her

Going {unwillingly}

Smithereens

Beautiful?

they will decide

Was the Echo

lost


He he he

But ,

you have a future

the mathematicians are at work

Sriramus Descartus

Atomus Didactus

Atomus Didactus
1.0
“Want To Play A Role”
.
.
.
“A Dream Role”
…
1.1.0

Dream Roles , Evolve …
You
.
.
.
Evolve .

1.1.1
You , Evolve
You Will Lead .
.
.
.

You Lead ,
.
.
.

Others , Evolve .
.
.
.
.
2.0
'A Movelution’ .



2.1.0

To Be A
Facilatator, Contributor ,
Mentor, Director ,
Nurturer , Developer ,
Monitor
Leader .
.
.
.

3.1.0
A Self Development Treatise .
[Let Your Internal Processes Inculcate Exactly Similar Values ]
.
.
.

“Your Processes & Systems Should Have ‘The Exact Synergies’
To Enable
“You
To
Play The Role” .
.
.
.



4.1.0
.
.
.

Play The Role !
.
.
.
.

To Play The Role You Have To Achieve
To Achieve
You Have To Acquire
To Acquire You Have To Search
When You Search
You Should Learn
When You Learn You Should Know
When You Know
You Should Discriminate
When You Discriminate
You Should Stand Out
..
..
..
You Stand Out
.
.
.
You Lead
.
.
.

When You Lead
You Will Suffer
When You Suffer
You Will Learn
When You Learn You Will Know, When You Know
You Will Evolve
When You Evolve You Will Grow
When You Grow You Will Mature
When You Mature You Will Suffer When You Suffer You Will Learn When You
Learn You Will Know

5.1.0
You Know
You Will Age
&
You Age .
.
.

You Die .

6.1.0

You Are Dead

Let Your Legacy Live .

[Chorus ]

Play A Dream Role
To Play A Role …
U Need To Suffer … U Suffer … U Learn... U learn … U Suffer …U Suffer …U Lead …
...U Die .

Chathapuramusviswanathamussriramusdescartus!