Tuesday, 11 August 2015

n splits always…but it pains..

it is quite ironical…
often bordering on sheer absurdity…
often let loose by the rabid dogs of a conscience questioning..
that surrounded by all the injustice..
sophisticated and refined..
surrounded by all the filth..
proud to rot and shine..
i always break into splits uncontrollable..
and it goes on and on…
covering many a split..of seconds and minutes endless..
it's quite cynical..
that’s the common reaction of the witnesses ignorant..
but it’s at least worth something..
than a mute existence numb..
or a rash protest that could result..
in a bullet nice and well metalled..
being lodged right up..
where all reality matters actually…
i know sometimes one should be sensitive..
and sometimes one should know..
the limits of being sarcastic…
but if my scars only know the voices..
that confuse and confound…
then i can’t intervene much..
so i express this..
as all my fellow observers..
type away at their assignments mindlessly…
running after grades and marks..
as it is worth more than..
sheer drops of blood..
that i would have been a lot less fun..
if things could have been more direct or blunt…
just like the jagged edges of a war torn sweiis knife..
so for the sake of pleasure..
for like everyone else of neurons and a mind..
i too need some..
i just play around..
in games curved and twisted..
in satire that paints always..
a mocking smile…
yet within that laughter instant..
lies a deep regret and a despair infinite..
and a protest shadowy…
that demands…
all the splits be eradicated..
laughter truly freed to become boundless smiles..
all the exploitation be put to a stop..
and let us all bask..
for ages endless..
with shared bliss..
and happiness truly divine…
and then i no longer need to break into
those epileptic and quite painful..
fits of empty splits…
for i say with the vows of the stars.
that my scars are becoming too tired..
to influence and express eternally..
without any coherent deadline...
something that still rings a few conch shells..
for it is slowly dying..
deprived of love..
in an atmosphere of overwhelming hatred….
so i can’t just into a crescent repressed..

my thoughts

sometimes one can only ignore so much..
and smile for so long...

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