Monday, September 13, 2010

As You Like

Defiant to the havoc of fate, I rant
Assumption of a better reason, I can’t
The rest is all for you
May thee accept, may thee assume
My insanity for my hideous fume
Fumes of sizzling thoughts over thoughts
Flames of victorious yet wrong plots
For you to assume, for you to accept
How callousness plunges me into debt
Debts of apologies, debts of endurance
The rationalities only through your lens
While I stand;
Still defiant and yet irrational

Profound to the tides, I plummet
In agreement to the sun, I set
The rest is all for you
May thee read, may thee notice
My wrong philosophy of real chalice
Chalices of my imaginary elixirs
Elixirs of the imaginary pleasures
For you to notice, for you to read
My mind owned by a feigning creed?
Read, misread my painful breaths
My actuality to a thousand deaths
While I hold on;
Still profound and yet acquiescent

Intense to my words, I speak
Running out of voice, I shriek
The rest is all for you
May thee laugh, may thee attend
My speech for a formality to pretend
My funerals of my actual messages
My adieus to my impractical adages
For you to attend, for you to laugh
The fluctuations of my apparent graph
The court jester in me, as you like
As you want the rest of me on strike
While I remain,
Still intense and yet fragile

The rest is all for you

Friday, September 3, 2010

Jumbled but better

"Fibonacci series," I thought. Yes, that's how I want my life to flow. Mistakes. Lessons. Add them up. Reach another level with a welcome board exhibiting the scintillating resultant number having greater dynamics. And that's where you give life to your resolutions, live a couple of new moments for new lessons and befriend another even greater number. And the chapters continue... Organized and augmenting. "Nice," I grinned.
"Life," I shuddered. What a swizz! How did the subtraction make its way in? It's like making it through a labyrinth, feeding yourself with experiences, good and bad, and half way through, you're either lost or end up making the same mistake again. It's like starting a game all over again because you couldn't exploit all the functions of your own weapons and you re-bounce to level 1. Disorganized and jumbled. "Retrogressive," I moaned.
"Fibonacci series," I thought again. The rule is simple. Simplicities coalesce into complexities (which you wouldn't even call complexities). Numbers, being synonymous to precision and clarity, are something I really envy. They've got no room for abstract confusions. And on and on goes the series. On and on...
"Life," I shuddered again. The rule is simple, keep moving on no matter what. And that makes the word simple lose its meaning. Memories coalesce at the back of your head, your assumptions keep resurfacing, and fear is a permanent resident by default. Clouds of uncertainties, with a flexible density, keep floating high and low wherever you go, trying to convince you to kick off your dreams of clarity. Sequences planned or thought are rarely the sequences followed. Blame it to your circumstances or blame it to your inability to conquer the unexpected arrows aiming at your way, you'll still have to go through it. And there you are: on and about-to-be-off, on and almost-off...
But, "Life," may be you're better. Inside you, is my share of misfortunes and my share of fortunes; Sweet or bitter, in the end of it all I won't regret having explored every corner of the maze the best way I could. What about all the numbers Fibonacci skips on its way? At least, life gives me a complete package.