Tuesday, August 03, 2004

The Final Plunge

This poem, I must say has been one of the most difficult to pen. Harder, due to the fact that it is not what it seems at first glance.
Primary observation tells a message that its a stupid, suicidal, crappy trash... But like-minded people will know what I am talking about.. If you look more closely, you will also notice that I have sublimely mentioned the name of the man who holds the biggest influence in my life...
Here is my attempt at "metaphor"...

The Final Plunge

Shimmering in the dark,
    was the soul of his eyes.
As he stood upon the edge,
    his trembling, withholding...

He wants to run away,
    and so hard he tries;
But couldn't budge an inch,
    as he sees his fate unfolding...

Gathering up the bits of strewn thoughts,
    in the oceanic expanses of his mind...
He ponders upon his will to die,
    and the fear that attachments will bind...

Decides he, to hold no more;
    He wills all his thoughts and chooses the final one...

As he flies,
    he hears a voice say...

    ... for you shall be no one.


The Machine Head

This poem was written long before Eminem came onto the scene.. so if it seems similar (with all the anger and violence and fight back..); well, he copied me. I didn't.. :-) (but anyways, he doesn't mean what he says and so don't I)

About the poem, well,
Its about all those kids, young and old people alike; who are being pushed in a corner by the bullies of this world... The poem tells that it's a dog-eat-dog world and you need to fight back on your own... no one will stand for you, no one will be there for you, no one but you alone can fight for yourself.. The poem says so, not me... :-)

The Machine Head
Hey kid!!!

Don't sit in the corner,
    tears shouldn't be spent...
Keep your angst within,
    do not give it a vent!

Wake up to the fact,
    that you are not yet dead.
So what's the big deal?
    That makes you lose your head...

What does lie above,
    needn't be present beneath.
But all that matters is;
    that the sickle cuts the sheath.

Become the sickle,
    and you will win.
Chops their heads off,
    who try to barge in.

Skew them or skin them,
    no one need be spared.
For to be a winner, you need to;
    become a Machine Head.........


Monday, August 02, 2004


This is another of my favourite poems.... I dont think this needs anything to be said about... check for yourself

Come step in my grave!
    Let me taste your blood.
Die with me, be my slave!
    I call you to join my herd.
As you live, you can't be,
    try as you might, to be free.
I will possess you, make you mine.
    The sun will fade, the moon will shine.
You will age, but the time will stop.
    Don't you think it is ironic?
But believe me, dear friend of mine.
    I am, a little bit diabolic... !