Words of Clay – “Be my King”

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Be my King this life,

I shall uproot that seedling of ego,

Shoo away from within my emotions of strife,

Into my ears, your weakness when they blow,

I shall wag it lame, bark it a hoax,

For in the game of  the wise,

The one in checks, without the dice,

Both, the King and his Pawn are packed back into the same box…

Deb’013

Artist : Gauri Sakhuja

Words of Clay” is a poetic journey through the creations of Gauri Sakhuja, a young and talented Indian sculptor from her latest solo exhibition at Triveni Kala Sangam, New Delhi, India.

 

For more on the artist, visit : https://www.facebook.com/gauri.sakhuja/about

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We’ll lose the Magician

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Lies dusty his crown,

Locked tidy in his closet, his golden gown,

The sorcerer is withering away, simple logic,

Assign a magician, tasks that require no magic,

Then, watch him self-destruct,

For there simply can be nothing more tragic,

Sans, the stage, the jeering crowd,

The wide-mouthed claps, hoots and the cheers,

Life slowly blurs in the rear,

The end’s then too hard to resist,

Sheer futility devours his fear,

For a final glimpse, he draws life’s bowl near,

Finds dried up and gone are those last drops of purpose,

No miracles in store, he re-assured clear,

Empty white shines porcelain,

Now he knows, he’s breathing in vain,

Untraceable now, his prime reason to exist…

Debaroon’2013

 

 

Image Credit : http://www.tripadvisor.com

Personal Diaries – ‘Evanescent Senses’

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My senses are pampered they say,

Or, maybe they label it that way,

Yes, they’ve been loyal slaves to the harsh Mistress of Aesthetics,

While, Mediocrity’s soothing Inamorata has been forever at bay,

Towards risky pathways to fame,

They disobediently sway,

Sucked in deep and deeper into quicksands of creativity,

That’s how they would perpetually want to stay,

Couldn’t tame them my deadliest reality,

From lush green lawns of mechanical apathy, and,

Fertilized with compromise, greener pastures,

They’ve always craved the quickest goodbyes,

Lightning departures…

Debaroon’2013

 

 

Image Credit: http://u0s7al00.deviantart.com

Personal Diaries – ‘Wins the Hare’

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Hungry flowers are blooming everywhere,

Blind seedlings are mushrooming here and there,

Hues of helplessness are painting this part of the sphere,

The superior has little voice,

Starving secured on deeds right,

In its shell, awaiting the moment like the tortoise,

Sky high waves of ignorance are abundant in sight

Lashing dry sands of simplicity, wet,

Pace-less on highways, a peekaboo has it trembling in fear,

While, the inferior toils swift in sweat,

Wide-eyed it shines above ones, near and dear,

Empty sacks of wisdom are concealed crystal clear,

Hips and hops, some smart talks, hollow confidence dear,

Fake it to survive, knows the sharp-eared Hare…

Debaroon’2013

 

 

Image Credit: http://fineartamerica.com/

Personal Diaries- ‘Dancing Sane’

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Something you seldom  get to see,                        

A sober responsible me,

Saving my ass, voicing righteous,

The ‘should n’ should-nots’ in chorus,

But every second summons me myself,

Lures me pathways to perdition,

Roadways to beautiful destruction,

Someday I’ll be done with debts to the seed that bore me,

Sharpen my ears and sniff my way into the woods,

Towards those faintly audible chants of poetry,

For the dragon within roars enraged imprisoned,

Scratches my walls of flesh, spits fire, burns me, bleeds me,

I hear loud ceaseless screams, “Your only morphine is Enlightenment,

The rest isn’t for you to gain,

You dance Sane, you earn Pain,

On soils richly aesthetic,

Stands your warehouse of verses for the world to cherish,

Don’t leap for all that isn’t meant for you,

You’re only a devil born to create and perish,

Your pretense shall soon fail, towards the End,

A Hungry Creator shall scurry naked again…”

Debaroon’2013

 

Image Credit : http://lightworkers.org

Personal Diaries- ‘STRANGER’

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This isn’t my world,
I’m naive to its ways,
Born out of place,
In another age,
I’m a natural misfit,
Meant to quickly fade away,
My mind and its sways won’t let me survive,
But there should not remain any sad vibes,
Coz maybe when i wink again with new baby cries,
I mite just turn out into the right seed in the right soil…

Debaroon’2013

 

Image Credits :

http://coolvibe.com

A Hundred Holes

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It took Alice a lot of luck,

To roam Wonderland till dusk,

To get past the rubble of hurdles,

Catch sight of that golden cradle,

Awaiting her in a room feared by rats and moles,

One adorned with a polished stump and olives on its mouth,

A room that one could walk into, but never come out,

A room with a hundred holes,

Barring the ceiling and the floor,

A hundred holes on its walls four,

To let in hundred rays of the Sun,

Every morning from the ceiling flashed a new handsome face,

Calling her to ride his masculine slide, make love at a swift pace,

A helpless Alice was deprived of the youthful fun,

Her privacy robbed by those hundred holes,

On that strange and primitive land of magic, eyes were always on a roll,

She couldn’t even get hold of a monstrous piece of fabric to curtain bold,

Where would she go? Where were the shops? Where were they sold?

So, she started blocking those holes with mud and clay,

A hole a night to start with, then four each day,

Soon, a wall was covered, yet she couldn’t fling out her lusty invite,

Scared of wizards, cooking up sorcery stews nearby,

So, ten holes a day, a little more labour took her to twenty,

Left was a dark and a gloomy space, now dim was the light, once in plenty,

Three rays shot into that room through the last three holes left,

Alice could feel a killing suffocation, herself out of breath,

Desire took a steeper turn that dawn,

From the ceiling, smiled Mr. Mojo, Sylvester Stallone,

She could dine with the beast for that masculine feast,

Impatient, she filled up all the holes in a lot of hurry,

To a Breathless end, only to sob her slipping moments of slavery,

Till she bloomed human in another life,

All over again seasoned into a sharper knife,

Grew young and wise into an attractive bait,

Her lust will have to wait…

Debaroon’2013

 

 

 

Image from: http://www.cepolina.com

Indigo Depths

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Into indigo depths of that calm ocean,

Let us sink in for our eternal promotion,

Can you hear that breathless still?

Bubbles in your ears, out of your nostrils?

We’ll paddle into that swaying forest, perpetually moist,

The fate of those scrubs and bushes born drowned,

We’ll kiss them wet, celebrate their fate, pluck some for our crowns,

Ball to mute motions of the prey and the hunter,

Adorn ourselves with forgotten treasures from sunk  plunder,

In tight embrace, we shall greet dolphins and whales,

Will turn down their pleads to come along,

Snort some air from the surface,

We’ll rather, butterfly deeper to the creeks on the bed,

Scare away the snobbish Electric Eel, conquer his hide-out,

Let us then suck each other off our last ounces of breath,

Lips on lips, closing eyes, the end’s switched on,

The mermaid’s harp, you can hear aloud, shall slowly faint,

Our beginning we never could paint,

But, the end is ours; we’ll design it our way,

Our resurrection shall engrave our love immortal,

Our passion shall have the shark stop for an impractical ogle,

Now foams our vision, our senses are in a lather,

We are bunking His test,

We’re skipping His mandate,

Scrubbing off our skin, bar-codes of His conquest,

To dissolve our naked clutch  into the water’s beauty,

Our stripped  souls into its blue patented liberty,

Let us  switch off for the best…

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Debaroon’2013

(May our Souls rest in Peace in Embrace…Amen!)

 

 

 

Image from :  http://www.hotelclub.com/http://www.sammiseahorse.com/

The Lull Spider

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Lights dull, dim and gone,

Screams, then surrounds declarations chill,

A Morrison from dusk to dawn,

Beyond that naked green grill,

Shunned outside, Oxygen waits futile still,

Consciousness is stretched in a tug-of-war inside,

Jaws of visions bloom into a bungalow for those souls to reside,

Curtains down on those spirits, rolls off those glittery veils,

Realizations of compromise scurry naked,

Passion leakages beam whiter,

That rented oven bakes on a few minds,

The mocker’s crawl is about to cease,

For that gloating arthropod, awaits a hypnotic surprise,

Now eight legs useless, it has to unwind,

In that haze, pasted to the wall,dazed,

Into the void, caught paranoid, lull’s the spider…

Debaroon’2013

 

 

 

Image from :http://www.spiritofspider.com

Hide of Pretence

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Floats away on the Arabian Sea,

Shreds of the ‘real-me’,

Ones loved witness dry and happy,

They’re done with the ceremony,

Where I was stripped off my identity,

Peeled off my originality,

Where I was inked for eternity,

Shackled from my belly,

Butted into that impossible maze of slavery,

The ritual with chants soaked in aromatic incense,

They ogled merry, sighed relieved immense,

Sorely rolled down on me, a shiny Hide of Pretence…

Debaroon’2013

 

 

Image from : http://www.turbosquid.com