Sweet Sirens

I cherish the reader's kindness in viewing my blog. The word "blog" somehow conveys the lack of fervour as in something sloppy. Yet these very "blogs" are sometimes precious means to revitalize oneself by connecting oneself to an audience. Whenever I check my blog and see that someone has viewed it, the heart feels relieved of shame. So I present before the reader another unworthy, literary contribution.    

When the clouds seem to slowly choose

And the wolves do prowl a little loose

Hanging on to a noisy conversation

A witty siren rushing through my station

If I could dance just one more time

Choosing between You and cordial lime

Singing  to the tune of a biting night

Anyone can fight and anyone can write

I’m sitting in a room blooming with gloom

Afraid of Truth and sanity’s doom

Do You feel handsomely about the day?

You suffered me in a mellow way

Is there might in choices few

Not much to drink but plenty to chew

Is there something about the sultry moon

Which seems better than a better boon

Oh the fallacies of a false legacy

I’m turning without seeing, really, You see?

The losses incurred from breaking a fence

Persisting again with yesterday’s lense

Is there no point in being honest & right

Yes, though not too much, says Mrs night

What is the best time to heed a parrot

That will talk of You and live on a carrot

I will dig into a trench and reveal the wise

Who hid themselves, to avoid the lies

Just shades of truths that betook themselves

To be woven onto the shirts of primordial elves

The sweetness of an enduring, startling agony

Trying to be heartbroken… for that’s the way to be

Do You think I can wonder about Time and Love

The curtains revealed a parodied, frozen dove

He condemned when I asked "how shall I not envy?"

with.., "Primordial cycles of time need to let you be!"

Curtailing my tastes like treating insanity

Running to where I can drink herbal tea

Namaste. 

I haven't blogged for a long time. So I sheepishly take up the reins again. No one was looking at my blog, so I thought that I will let Time look at it. In the meantime I was leading a confused life. Then I got confused about the confusion. The confusion lost its charm ...a bit. I do feel it can harm. Of course, if you are confused about consuming cocaine, then that confusion probably is welcome, it ought not wane, though I am not fully cognizant about the graces of the graceful. Cocaine seems inane but in today's technocrazed world, smelling is believing. Can't do that. 

I have some verses written and some exciting tales to tell. If you read them I hope you will be inspired to wish me well. 

  

The poem below is not as well knit with wit as it ought to be. I do intend to try and improve the presentations. I thought about again getting going in the blogging department and decided the second come first service. 

Blue Nest

Wisps of definite and crimson grey

Unsound darlings of beasts of prey

O we vicious sons of the mighty gods

Embracing charming and penitent broads

Is there yield in passions wild

If only to be an innocent child

Cut my hand and bleed me blue

Why this strangeness between me and You

Breach of trust and howling lies

The still falcon as it flies

Replete with doubts, cries of shame

Playing to win a shallow game

More and more, words of greed

Why not sit with the silent creed

Do you know to be a cynical fool

Writing on the wall rule after rule

The idiot smiled like a shameless it

O lass of frenzied,  rhythmical wit

O men who cried in their hour of need

As the fruit  so was the seed

We do know a little although

About the need, for reap and sow

Yet we do handsomely  whine

When we ought to rise and shine

The man who spoke with a golden tongue

Who knew not how to heal the lung

Desdemona why lie to me

Desdemona why condemn He

They who danced while it rained

They who ran while soundly chained

Man is born free then shackles himself

Putting the scripture back on the shelf

Is it true that we can dance and sing

Why try to fly on a turtle wing

If all you need is a winsome glance

Why not try for a second chance

We shall close now with a rarish song

About something that wont go wrong

Why do I run when I need to hide

O charming One my grief hasn’t died