The Chaotic-Neutron

Where heaven seems to thrive,
In words and works so close by,
There is this aloof self struggling to get by.
How did life lead me to this dead end drive ?

In struggle, poetry survives,
Where flesh and bones struggle to capture,
Essence unknown and lost in souls.
Maybe there is meaning from all that thee derives.

I resist nevermore to all that occurs,
Cause and effect drive my life,
In motion, I stand still.
Here’s to that new wave, the new year.

That weird feeling of nearing the end,
Where anger and passion shall transcend,
In heaven’s depth and hell’s doors
I shall ascend in glory evermore.

Surely never been devoid of wealth,
Self stricken and destroyed one’s own health,
The feelings one loves, of buzz and booze,
Where will these high hopes be buried to be exhumed.

Another feeling, craziness tantalizing
Deliberate destruction in pain of losing one’s own.
Here I am right now but where am I really ?
Now.

A face, like from a sculpture,
Long ago in a nearby land ;
An expression that has no suture,
And never fades away like words in a beach sand.

The enchanted beauty with a fiery expression,
The silent kill without any satisfaction.
What should one give to feel this pure ?
In 25 years of a life obscure.

In search of purity, I roamed
And here lies the mother of all serenity.
Passion, anger and the sublime will
To survive, and give the ingnorant Hell.

When the sun drops into the deepest ocean,
Shroud of darkness takes over.
Ignorance, clouds even wise men,
Leaving frail that which is precious among many things.

In ways of the complex world,
Tapping into the expanse of knowledge,
Leads no where, except chaos and agony.
Where doth the balance lie in this irony ?

This split persona, the thinker and the drunkard,
Where hath thee led me to, in search of truth ?
This half knowledge tortures me in sleep,
Will this prevail until His body is buried 6 feet deep ?

“Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young
In a world of magnets and miracles
Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary
The ringing of the division bell had begun
Along the long road and on down the causeway
Do they still meet there by the cut
There was a ragged band that followed in our footsteps
Running before time took our dreams away
Leaving the myriad small creatures trying to tie us to the ground
To a life consumed by slow decay

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
With friends surrounded
The nights of wonder

Looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us
To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side
Steps taken forwards but sleepwalking back again
Dragged by the force of some inner tide
At a higher altitude with flag unfurled
We reached the dizzy heights of that dreamed of world

****

Encumbered forever by desire and ambition
There’s a hunger still unsatisfied
Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon
go down this road we’ve been so many times

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
The taste was sweeter
The nights of wonder
With friends surrounded
The dawn mist glowing
The water flowing
The endless river

Forever and ever”

– Floyd

There are so many things that feels absolutely right about this song. This is one of those things that gets me right back on my feet no matter how elated or depressed i feel.

This is something that has touched me so deep,
I cannot escape the inevitability of the meaning of the song.
Why ? You ask. Cant you see the beauty unravelled ?
Doth not need to fly in the sky to decipher
Such simplistic meaning of Life, even in obvious delusion.

I saw this video just now and felt like writing something …

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

–Dylan Thomas

Beautiful !

In life, the beauty of survival,
Reveals hidden truth in gentle end.
The sublime will, conveys meaning surreal,
Rejoice and celebrate with tears of joy.

Blessed is he, who has found his work;
Let him as for no other blessedness.

In truth, wishes restricted
Aspiration drives life towards its end.
Divinity in essence
Isn’t it this life personified ?

One action after the next;
The steps in the final stone.
This completion, midway, with a degree
Validates partial fulfillment of the work.

One task complete, another remains.

An occasion of ceremony,
In light of a passing death
In eternal bliss, devoid of money
Where heaven doth await us in mirth.

Sad and lonely, with wishes fulfilled
Wanting nothing more but life meaningful ;
Everything desired, willed, so easy
Why more does life hang in balance and dice.

Cause & effect, the only reason as seen,
In penance, i fail to see Him.
Such pain fills but logic overrules
What misery have thee led me to ?

Did i already know of my fate.
Sure. I wanted this.
Unsuicidal, with only one regret in hand,
There is no other right time to see this light.

A pawn in the eternity of time,
Like a grain in an universal desert of sand
One inconsequential life could be the center ;
Such balance and perfection at hand.

If there were another life,
Sure i would like to be born again.
With the knowledge i have, preserved
And understand even more clearly the reason for my pain.

Convoluted words, language insufficient
When will anyone understand what i want to say ?
Probably never, this maze of a mind
But i hope my thoughts will change universal movement.

Apart from the single regret
Of forsaking my mother in agony ;
And pursuing my wish and following my will
I am yet to find someone happier than me.

I haven’t seen failure, or rather felt,
but lessons learnt at every step,
teaches the way of life, the fickle gamble,
Perspective cleared, satisfaction in ample.

One last shot at poetry,
I might miserably fail,
but thoughts prevail,
And i shall exist forever in someone’s minds.

If you have known me,
thank you for granting me the privelege.
If i can be reborn, i will.
Watch out around you,
For you could be my next father or mother.

One day, Another time,
In life’s long path, another moment.
I wonder if i will remember this crime
During the serene period of soccer and torrent.

The feeling of being satisfied and bored,
Sets in like a pus in a wound,
Nagging and hurting more than the torn ligament,
This shall haunt me for another three years.

Where shall i run again to hide ?
How can i start meditating to releive the tension ?
In agony, i pray for strength
And I shall conquer, as before, always.

Recently, i was talking to a friend and got into a conversation on some of the greatest poems. One of the first poems that came to my mind was Ozymandius. There are a lot of things that are striking about it ; The way Shelley describes the pride, the sarcasm about the ego, the practicality of the situation and the subtlety in the description. Anyway, without further ado and anymore rambling, i quote one of my favorite poem

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert… Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
My name is Ozymandius, King of Kings,
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

I long and ache in agony,
Agony filling my being in full.
Such perfection un-noticed
What doth anyone enjoy still ?

Every action in resonance of absolute perfection,
No remark uttered, music created,
Or video produced has even a slight fault,
This blend of perfection, can none but me see it still ?

Life, action, music and movie,
Nothing is pretense or at fault.
If any had a defect, so would the universe
Please, somebody claim that my premise is right.

With every passing second, a new life,
With every uttered word, a perfect statement,
With every action done, a perfect event,
Such perfection, this harmony, beyond limits.
Is there a need for reason to write poetry ?

Wings spread in absolute grace,
The rythm running through the veins,
Every moment, every syllable born,
Eternal bliss beyond.
Do i need another reason to write poetry ?

A session in glory after a long wait,
Whither thy will to learn.
Failing miserably even the simplest test
This mind feels sore and in unrest.

Basics, complicated by words,
Eludes the mind in vigorous anxiety.
Never has this feeling come before
Such fear, in the path of passion, flesh devoured.

All my professor wanted was answers,
Answers that i knew,
but too dumb to say ;
Anxiety it seems, cripples the ego of the beast.

The result doth not matter.
The energy dissipated in fulfilling the passion,
Eats away the peace without rest
What shall i do, to neutralize this irony ?