In Victus

Out of the days that unearth me,
Bright and white from pole to pole,
I curse whatever gods may be
For my gullible soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have winced, I have cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody and bowed.
Beyond this place of skies so clear
Looms but the Horror of the jade,
And yet the so-called joy of the years
Finds and shall forever find me afraid.
It matters not how the gate is built,
How empty is my punishment scroll,
I am a slave to my guilt:
I am lost to my soul.

P.S: The true rendition of the William Ernest Henley Poem “Invictus”

Dream Box

In my box
I live in a dream
Where no one can see
Or even pass on a scream
I think of the crime
Of a broken heart
In that box
I leave my soul apart
At length I open my eyes
And see my dreams have stayed
In my joy and grace
My deepest desires lay displaced
My story remains untold
A consequent of a dreamt death
I lay bare in those arms
Waiting sometimes for a last breath
What happens when the box is gone
And so are stories of past
What happens when my dream box has left
And its only sorrow that lasts?

Miss Sunflower Blue

I don’t think about you
I’m sunflower blue
I dream of a voice
an evening breeze
whispering in my ears
singing me to sleep
I don’t think about you
I’m sunflower blue
You don’t haunt me
in my hazy memories
you don’t follow sunset 
in a midnight’s dream
I don’t think about you
I’m sunflower blue
You aren’t etched deep
in the depths of my soul
I don’t get lost without you
and wonder where to go
I don’t think about you
I’m sunflower blue

To Johnny Cash

He came from Arkansas
with a depth of heart
he sang the blues
of souls torn apart

The empire of dirt
the Ring of Fire
all from the pieces of small faith
and the endless desires

He was happy for the world
but let it pass him by
and yet in his sorrow
he made me cry

Fell in love with June
lived and loved for years
and yet from deep within his favorite gods
he shed Apache Tears

depths of darkness beckon tonight
As I hear him far away
And when he finally walks the line
I reckon Everybody’s Fine

I miss him in the bars
the Folsom Prison too
and then I sigh with a smile
when I talk to a Boy Named Sue 🙂

Save me the Waltz

You see through me
this empty sheath of life
I see my demons
waiting for my knife
I will tire you out
with my mind’s haze
I will be the non-beauty
of your poise and grace
At length the shadows catch up
alone in my room I fail the fall
How will you ever hold on?
How will you Save the Waltz?

P.S: Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald were once the golden couple in Paris. Zelda’s erratic behaviour and bouts of schizophrenia caused her to get institutionalized a number of times. I have always wondered what it must have been like. Have been trying to find her memoirs “Save me the Waltz” haven’t found it anywhere so far. This one was a thought that passed me by.

Purple Haze

My wounds feel wrong
my joy in a haze
is this just a season
a passing pretty phase?
Does the mind know what it feels
does it feel truly safe
does it yearn for solitude or 
its people that it craves
Is my glass half empty
or the plate half full
Is it just the dim lights
or my life’s sweet lull
The door awaits
a faint knock
as it turns midnight
on a stopped clock
Will I live the other day
just to die in a smile
or will I stay here in the purple haze
will I stay here a while?