Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Narcoleptic

I sleep, therefore I exist.
Nothing provokes me because I am
where you cannot touch me.
I make the rules of my dreams and break them as I choose.

I sleep on these streets of hate and love
Dirt on my face like light from the sun.
I can be anywhere, the roads are all the same
Sound, your sound does not touch me then, like a caress.

Born here, and looking for my mother
Dog, lost on a crowded highway
Sure to be run over if I turn too brave
No one to shelter me when life rides away in a taxi.

Hyperventilate in a strange room
They leave me alone these men who want forty-dollars worth of love
Love is not death; death is sleep but I always wake up,
On a pavement or hotel room, it is all the same.

I celebrate at a funeral
How an old man lived and died of a broken heart
I look shallowness in the eye and scream - shallowness is fear.
I sleep again and again and again.

Let me sleep, I owe you nothing anymore
Thieves take all, someone picks me up
The roads converge at Idaho; potato country,
Where a green house still stands from memory.




Written after watching My Own Private Idaho, a film by Gus Van Sant. It is a really good film. Here's a link to a trailor http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xA0U0otWuzE
Thanks Aazar for lending me the film! :)

Wednesday, January 09, 2008

Maid

Girl of so many colours
I would never have known had she not asked
For a bright pink dress last diwali.
And so I had picked the one I hated the best.
She loved it.

Girl wants smooth skin
As smooth as the lotions on my dressing table will make it
In my sick mind I can't allow it.
And so I ignore the roses she leaves on the bed while I'm asleep.

Girl of bright sparkling eyes
Talks back like any other teenager
But she's different, when she bends down to clean our dirt.
Mutineer, I must be revolting to you in my sunday garb, cigarette in hand.

Girl wanted more
More is not as much, but I can't give her anything
So she stole what she could not have.

Girl runaway.
Does your laughter still ring in someones ears?
Or have you grown up; still as if you were dead.
Dead to your fate.