Wednesday, January 26, 2011

12 questions

1. Where will you take me?

2. What if I die before the transaction?

3. How much do I cost?

4. What if no one wants to pay for my release?

5. Is there a ransom at all?

6. Will you cover my eyes and take me in a fast car?

7. What is your intent?

8. Why do you answer my questions?

9. Are you in love?

10. Will you kill me after the money?

11. Can we be friends after the money?

12. Where is my cousin?

2. What if I die before the transaction?

It doesn’t matter, because no one’s going to know. The transaction will happen in the belief that you are alive. In fact, I’ll make sure that you are dead before I get the money, so that I can ask for more without feeling guilty.


1. Is love a matter of choice?

If you are too lucky, yes.

If you are too busy, yes.

If you are too scared, yes.

If you are too much in love, yes.

If you talk binary, yes.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

white cow

the white cow has criminal history
flashlights wake up silence
you look for the old man in the corners
but you find only silence everywhere
silence stares at you like a stranger

the wind carries an unmistakable stench
the walls freeze to your fingers
you wait for your senses to betray you
silence echoes in your head
the corners taste like a white cow

you talk to the people in binary
they dread the white cow
but they never talk about the old man
they never talk about silence
they do not carry flashlights

the tomb intimidates you
as silence stares at you from the top
it stares as you talk binary to people
it stares as you look for the old man
you do not want to look back

the tessellations bear no evidence
you do not check for repetitions
the carvings on the stone wall scream
skill never betrayed the old man
he was known for his work

you remember the night he left
the people no longer cared for him
silence was his only companion
but silence never spoke and he was deaf
silence will not tell you where he is

the white cow appears in front of you
your scream shatters silence
you realize that the old man is no more
you knew this day would come
your knew your existence would be at stake

your life is about to be taken
there are no tombs where you can lay
there are no carvings that bear your name
there would be no memories of you
not even silence

you lay dead on the walls and corners
your body consumes light like vacuum
the stench fills the air and coldness on walls
the old man was invisible and dead
he was the king, the carver and history


idling engine

burnt fragrance
broken sandglass
dead sniper
outdated supercomputer
bottled genius
programmed intellect
white piano
some people ready to work
unused memory
canned carbon-fibre
invisible flat sole
underground penthouse
liquid tracing paper
electrocuted skeleton
guarded blackhole
unguarded railway line
wet tyre
second hand ufo
greased throttle
neon-lit sub-woofer
contaminated elixir
guided ballistics
pump action shotgun

Monday, January 24, 2011


What do you know about fear?

I do not know about fear, it is always behind me.

What do you know about love?
I do not know about love, it is always ahead of me.

What do you know about hatred?
I know about hatred, hatred is addictive.

What does that mean?
Love is ahead calling; fear is behind pulling me back. But whenever I stop,
hatred comes along. Hatred is enchanting, charming and disarming.
Hatred makes me stay back for a long time.

Do you feel lonely?
How does that matter?

yellow butterfly

Things I remember,

If I know what that means
are regrets.
Not just them
But all I remember,
that I’m not wrong
and that it died on my shoulders

post card

I’ve always wanted to talk to you. I’ve seen you waiting at the gates of houses, faceless like a memory. I think you are a very good person. Though, I was confused by your strange behaviours sometimes, especially when you took my friend away so suddenly, when he was just about to get ready for the world. Where did you take him? I don’t think he was unsuitable for the world, or maybe you just took him to a better place. Of late, you’ve been visiting my family often. Don’t get offended, but I’m just curious. As long as you take them to a better place, it is fine. But it hurts me to watch all the people, whom you leave behind, crying like children left behind by their mothers.

One last thing, I have a request. When you come to take me, burnt or buried, please don’t take me to a better place, or worse, a worse place. Instead, accidentally lose me in you chambers of infinite vacuum.

Deep Inside Me.


sacrifice the significance of respect
escape possibilities to no avail
what can I say? but understand that I go numb
at your beauty; realize that I wish to know
what I am doing; hope grinds strangeness
I do not mean to be sad, I do not mean
to dance in the dark; but I do
prepare for the storm, battle cry and show down
it's alright, no one's asleep; say it again
that there's more; the great dipper is a dream
of multiple consequence and lies,
it lies there like the wind, you die,
I'm right behind you to give you back.
in the end all that matters are memories
depth shows truth, the steps to the past
but do you care how it turns out or where I live?
behind the fence and beyond, there is nothing
there is music, there is the sea
the graphic overflow and the routine
incessant heartache doesn't drown you
it doesn't change you; why do you live?
chance will imprison shadows
the open road is haunted by music
delayed contraption won't give you babies
but the lunar murder gave him away
in staccato, regret and swing
the other galaxy made no sense
and swept, but lived.

pictures that kiss the wall

Someone Knock

That’s everything I need, I’m ready. No, I’m not going out. I haven’t come from anywhere, not in the last two days. I thought I was going out. I like the walls and the fancy pictures put on them. Do I like the chairs and the tables? Let me sit down, why am I not going? I should go. People are waiting. But I don’t want to get up. I want to look to my right through the window, one last time before I pass out. If I do, will it make sense? Or if I pass out, will it make sense? All the wood that is lying dead around me has been here all along may be to make sense just for this one moment. And the detail on the ceiling at which I’ve been staring for so long, has it made me think about all of these? Has it been there just for this one moment to tell me that time is fleeting?


She lives in the apartment facing the fountain. She steals eggs and sells them. She betrayed her boyfriend. Now she is committed to her umbrella. She does know about facebook. She has paper fans under her cot and also a trunk full of old hats and eye liner. She freaks out if you pull your chair along the floor. When no one’s watching, she juggles owls. The fragrance of wet earth is what she has in her spray can. She eats ball bearings for breakfast.

we die and become architecture

But Love, we were just dancing

Escaping through the bars

She was coming from darkness
And going to shadows

And let dark light show you the way

Face it

By the chains bearing you down
It’s abrupt

I will not let you go
The short time madness
I’ll just be the watcher

Why did I look away?
Has it been there just for this one moment,
To tell me that time is fleeting?

- collective evolution