Joblessness
Idleness
Disorderliness
"Don't know why I fear butterflies,
But I never wanted to kill them,
Maybe squash a fair wing and cripple
An odd strand of feet,
Never end..."
Said the horn-rimmed shadow to the sun,
And the horizon was bleeding
For Night's footsteps didn't feel mercy.
She was elsewhere,
Chained to the rugged corners of the unruly mind,
Silently slumbering in the darkness that never ended.
The wind was no good, but only stirring...
Stirring the sun, stirring the sky,
Stirring the leaves and the butterflies!
Naive fliers wandering like impure ecstasy,
Wrapped in velvet couture,
Off Nature,
But the shadow fumed!
At why they rippled in water?
And curled in disorderliness?
Stomped without pain
Glided without gain,
Always after...
The wind was glad,
The butterflies should have been too,
Since they were only grounded,
Only if shadows were stirred too!
There are days like these when life patently doesn't come easy
like peas and carrots, tea and biscuits, moonshine & sun's resign,
more so resembling ill-assorted poked chocolates' wrongdoing of
dissemblance discombobulating conceivability mid hokey designed
disorderliness, inasmuch mute poetry impatiently awaiting lavishly
gifted muse's breathlessness to transform convoluted unreasonable
fractals pon escaped tauntingly mundane madness, twixt brass-tacks
wracks daunting tribulations throughout intervals of immoderately
spun matter-of-taxing challenges and perplexing puzzle pieces,
sans instructions far-side nonexistent proportions affixed with sticky
hot glue gun drivel or coffee pathetically absent jolting caffeine...
Disorderliness,
You counted on me for years,
Undependable.
The song of the soul is not jazz
Lowliness crumbles beneath the bruised conscience
Its a new day but the world is still the same
Pajamas can create a riot when they are not washed
Dirt and disorderliness of the furniture can be really peaceful
But who would know that?
The unexplained-ness of the haywire life
one leads teaches the weary soul of the need
Of noise, more than harmony
Its like the unraveling of obscurity
When the whole world doesn't understand you,
You feel victorious
The destructive novelty blended with the
Stupendous childishness of ideas
Alienate...
Increasing the loneliness but helps in shaping up the mind:
Its like a strangler
Choking is pleasure when in an adventurous mood
And the zeal in discovering whats beyond logic
Puts imagination before facts
Yes, I'm dying
This time
I like it more than ever.
Where we are?
State undefined, engulfed in nebulous forms.
Clear Chaos veiling vision – the urge to see beyond.
Amidst life – unheard, unheralded, unadapted.
What are we doing here?
Supposedly seriously defining the dreams.
Disorderliness maintenance or may be paraphrasing togetherness.
Experimenting approaches: didactic, disciplined, distributed.
Why are we doing this?
Passion ignited urge has become a need.
Meaninglessness pinches, thankfully not-numb, 'us'.
Individually juggling – existence, expectations, encumbrance.
Where from here?
Nowhere or the apex.
Compromise undoubtedly cannot be the end-word
To anywhere – without- mediocrity, mid-life, mannequins.
…And so?
Bland paper needs meaningful lines.
Humane words have to rekindle the flow.
The show has begun: destined, determined, devouring.
In this state of being
I'm lost in this world of emptyness
Sick with lonliness
Overwhelmed with sadness
beaten by soreness
Held down by disorderliness
Ness=State of Being