"Beauty is truth,
truth beauty,
that is all Ye know on Earth,
that is all Ye need to know..." - John Keats

Monday, 25 June 2012

Whispers in the Dreams...

And while there stands a countenance well received and content,
the turmoil underneath oft goes unnoticed...
Is it a gift, to bear witness to such trauma as none can see?
It is a gift to be so sure of nothingness, and have no calling?
Is it a gift to be unnerved by the meaninglessness of our mundane pursuits?

Or curses be these which one should hardly receive?

One doesn't see beyond the curtains of success,
yet some see and remain in denial...

One doesn't see beyond the immediate gratification,
yet some feel and numb it with pain-killers and gluttony...

One can see all the depth,
and all the darkness,
and in Nietzsche's words something sinister surely looks back...

You simply can not converse with death,
and feel alive at your daily tasks...

What is it to be a man?
What is it to be alive?
The cause, the effect, the dream, the ambition...

All but not with-holding the strands of time...

If at all I can see a dream come true,
there is yet one dream to dream and feel alive,
the dream where in paradise of true love and flowers,
you sit and watch upon the canvas of nature,
the artists dance away,
paint their ideas,
and in those ideas,
the experiences rest,
and you in front,

Such wondrous life can be in the briefest of moments,
but that has far too often been lost in the busy deliberations of the day,
and oft afternoon you rest,
sipping expensive coffee,
come home,
listen to everybody's woes,
yet see no escape from a disturbed sleep...

Often in those moments a song puts you to rest,
and in dreams someone whispers,
There are many poisons in the world...
None more scarier than ambitious dreams...
None more vile than obsessions over themes...

- Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Friday, 1 June 2012

Preying on Your Smile...

A lonely boy standing,
His back against the wall,
And there is a lone vulture absconding,
Waiting for its prey to fall…

Now hear his sound, oh people,
And learn from this wolf-child,
Who spent his days discerning,
Whats in it for the wild…

You may stop him from screaming,
But you won’t forget what was silenced and held foul…

There is just so much different to do in this world,
Yet we linger with our smiles, longing a different life…

They wait for you to reach your prime, my brother,
So they can cut you through the side,
They wait like that lonesome vulture,
Preying on your smile, oh brother,
Don’t smile…

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju