Saturday, September 24, 2005

A poem by Aakash and The Response of the Pool

Right there...

Inside your closed eyes
Let me watch my n'th dream
Beneath the shadow of your lashes
I shall rest for a while

Let your brow play my tired soul
A lullaby off-white
Seeking within the iris black
The eloped darkness of night

While i seek sleep...

- Aakash

The Response of the Pool

And the eloped darkness of the night
Gives way to a dawn
That re-opens the circle -
My cold grave is dug again.

As I open my eyes
I am doused
In the crimson sundrops
Screaming for reasons
In the seething black of the iris
In the fading shadow of the lashes...

Friday, September 23, 2005


It's not the dagger in my chest that hurts me. It's the fact that you put it there. Rainclouds come and go, the marble of the gravestone forgets my name... and beneath a field of carnations, my bones grow whiter. The scent of lavender seeps heavier into my soul.

The scent of lavender. The scent of madness. The scent of emptiness. Ahh... pour me into that void. Pour me slowly, down your dead, white fingers. Let me drip... drip... drip... till the last droplet dries from the vessel. And no fragrance is left.

The music has struck its highest note, and then the guitar strings split. Now, only the drum beats on. Primitive. Monotonic.

This is not love.
This is not love.

It's something beyond.

Pain is my addiction.

Thursday, September 22, 2005


I could've been the desire in your eyes, and stayed like that forever. Bathed in the seething fragrance of your body. Breathed in the red dust of your soul. Spilled in the liquid rudeness of your purple gaze.

Let me drown
Let me drown
Let me drown

I bloom like the last finger of jasmine on your stormy nights.

Monday, September 12, 2005



Oh yet another dance
One more waltz
Clasping your hand in mine
As fireflies plunge to flames
And we play games
Drawing patterns with fingers of ice
On each other's walls,
Walls of the stormy city
We built

Through the nights of winds
And blind moths in your hair
Through the raindrop haze
On the skylight
I hold out for the thirsty hour
You craved
For a drop of Eternity
On the blood-red curve of your lips
The curve beyond which
An obscure street
An ignorant crowd
Breathing, writhing, seething
Asks -
"And how many years
And how many tears
Would you waste
Locked in a forbidden love?"

What if,
Then the violins stop
Then the curtains drop...

Would your footfall recede
From the spot
The sunset was spilled
Like red wine on the dancefloor?

But the rain pours on
Through the night and fog
Like the insane mutterings
Of a lover in throes of pain
All the lovers we left behind
At another space
In another time
Embracing Life and Death
In a whirlwind swish
You and me

The paradise we seek has drifted
In the moss-grown woods
That layer the city
Brimming, spilling
The droplet of poison in the veins
Reaching for the heart,
Iced blood...
And the violins stopped
And the curtains dropped


...And I
Hold out for the thirsty hour
You craved
For a drop of Eternity
For a drop of Eternity

For the last dance that's left.