The Bird of Destiny

A shrill cry - desperate - reverberating from the cracks of a shattered soul

A shower of golden feathers,twisted at odd angles, bent, tattered and torn

wings flapping relentlessly, fighting hard against an impending doom

talons clawing at the empty air, searching for a nonexistent foothold

the vicious tongues of flame rise and fall as if to an unheard symphony

scorching, burning in every touch, hungry for the last shreds of hope

a lone tail feather catches flame, a momentary flash of brilliant gold

And then nothing but a trail of ash and soot, a stab of pain, a stench of fear

A sudden restless rustling of the wings,  a cry of new-found vigor

an inch of progress -  a possible escape - a  sudden glimmer of hope

But then the inevitable backward glance,the vision of all-engulfing flames

Terror - a flutter of panic - the gradual dawning of cold despair

Fatigue - wings beat out of rhythm, a realization of the inevitable end

the fierce cry of will fades into a mournful song of acceptance 

The flames approach, touch, advance - the waves of heat burst forth

and then the burning - somehow purifying each string of existence

The rising fumes choking, breaking, muting the last lament

Blazing fire weaving into the plumes of  dazzling gold

Flecks of ash swirling amongst the the ever-spreading flames

Before disappearing into nothingness, denied the truth of existence

A wing swallowed, then the other - body indistinguishable from its doom

A silent tear, vaporized before it could take its destined shape

A swirl of fire, smoke and extinguished life bursts into emptiness

And then the flames keep burning on, but the phoenix doesn't rise again

[Disclaimer: The content of the above text is purely fictional. Any similarity, to any phoenix, living or dead, is purely coincidental. No phoenixes were harmed in the writing of the above text.]

Dear Listener....

[After 6 solid months of writers' block, I guess its a decent start...]

Words, many words woven into a  fantastic tale

 embroidery giving life to a tapestry, ornate

An anecdote to complement the best vintage wine

The frowns, laughs and sighs so perfectly timed

And the captivating melody of her mirthful voice

As she casts that unearthly spell with such ethereal poise

Oh listener, how perfect this evening seems

As you swallow the elixir of her childish dreams

And you wander, lustful, in her enchanted world

As she fuels her lies with well chosen words

And if ever she pauses for a slow sip of wine

Oh! how you die to hear how her fantasy unwinds

Oh listener, for a moment, break free of the spell

The truth is whispered behind the lies words can tell

Hear the clatter of the china when her white fingers shake

The tinkling of her jewels speak of the laughter she fakes

The rustle of her handkerchief, as she tries wipe her sweat

The  tapping of her high heels, the swishing of her plait

Oh listener, please listen to the story she tells

The one that she hides in words rehearsed so well

For such gruesome tales her voice cannot speak

And yet, beneath the lies, to speak her heart seeks

Its the truth, dear listener,that she wishes to share

Are you courageous enough to listen to her?

The only poem this blog will ever host

[This was written quite some time ago, its just time to post it...]

We sit on the bank of the river of time, or perhaps of timelessness

Our fingers inches apart on the ground, yet never touching

Too afraid of all the worldly meanings the action might betray

Yet what do I have to fear from you?

One who can look into my eyes and know the very depth of my soul

Who sees in my trembling hands all my insecurities

And dissolves them into nothingness by casually brushing my cheek

One who can trace the falling tear right into my heart

And while I weave a tapestry of lies to hide behind

I see my truth reflected in the silence of your gaze

How did you know me so well?

How did you awaken the lost little girl without a word?

How did you make your way through all those deliberate barriers?

Without breaking any of them, or at least not in consciousness

Who are you to me? Friend, Lover, Protector –

All the words seem so shallow and fake

For I have seen others play those parts, and play them well

Do you play them better? Not really, no –

Yours is a different role altogether, one not in the script

Like an actor never on stage yet forming the very essence of the play

In your words I find my existence reflected

Explained as if to a child, a simple yet magical dream

And yet I am afraid to ask you to repeat them

To look in your eyes when you speak them

Afraid of that one false note, that one flicker of gaze

Afraid it will all fall apart in jagged bloodstained shards

And there on the edge of the lost stream of time

I am afraid to reach out lest, I don’t feel your touch

Save yourselves, you fools....

I have a certain friend who I have been calling a narcissist on a regular basis recently. Is he one? Perhaps. But stop gloating will you, you are no better yourselves. I mean even when you dream up a higher power, you create him in your own image. Of course God looks like your great granddad, for what can he be, if not a wiser version of you?

Well, at least that is one thing we agree upon: wisdom is not your strength, mankind, so stop acting like it is. Your childlike fascination as of late has been caught up with the environment. "Save mother nature", "save greenery", "save the planet"! Yeah right! The planet will implode upon itself if you keep littering, won't it? Let me tell you something you bunch of narcissists, "thou shalt not destroy the planet, thou shalt destroy thyself."

Come here kids, let me tell you a story. Guess what its about? Dinosaurs! They were big and strong and roamed the world like kings, till they over-exploited their food sources and destroyed their own habitats. Did the planet suffer, no! It removed dinosaurs from its face. But you are different, aren't you? You are small and weak without your 'technology'; your special 'technology' that can destroy the World!

Keep dreaming people, for ignorance is bliss, and denial the heart of existence.To all of you who are out there trying to do mother nature a favour by saving her, here's a word of advice: "Think". For all those who think they are above the menial task of protecting the environment : "Think again." In short, realize that you really aren't the one doing the favour here. Let me explain in short simple sentences the exact effects of your indifference towards your habitat.

You will exploit resources thoughtlessly. You will pollute your surroundings further. You will get some flora and fauna extinct. Ecological balance will be destroyed. Nature will have had enough of you. Natural calamities will occur. You will not adapt to the changes in your environment. You, yes all of you, will perish.The planet however , with sunlight, water and oxygen, will recover from the wounds you inflicted upon it, will give birth to new life and continue her happy existence.

So my dear fellow human beings, here's a not so humble request. Stop acting like benevolent saints who do nature a favour by caring for her. Realize what's at stake. With the sole purpose of saving your own backsides, stop and think before you act. Try for your own sake to inflict minimal environmental damage. Try, in short, to save yourselves.