Yellow bulldozer
Crawling, like a living thing
That can reproduce

Papery grey ash
Sinking in the air, drowning
The mind in static

Clinical Embryology Maxim

The sole purpose in life of the neural crest cells is to migrate, and they botch it big time.

Stench of formalin
As I mend, with deep sutures
Life's littered limbs


Inspired by these words of @thy_me_basil.

A part of my mind
gets drenched in a falling rain,
that does not exist.

Coffee spots, ink blots
Colonise the petri dish
Of an idle mind

Schism

Ousted the creepy voice in my head and now there's a gollum-like creature following me everywhere.

.

P.S. It has been sitting on a chair in my room, all day. Caught it on camera while it was busy fidgeting with it's toenails.

The scent of first rain
As my touch, pitter patters
Your unloved skin.

Who is it that I am supposed to see?

All I've done for the past 90 minutes is sat at my study table and sipped a gallon of water while vehemently talking to myself, aloud.


How exactly this is supposed to help me achieve my life goals is beyond me too.


...and 90 minutes ago I had sternly told myself, 'You have only 10 minutes. Not a minute more!'

So, who is it that I am supposed to see about this now?

What are words but mere words, without the emotional undertow that makes them poetry?

And what is poetry but mere poetry, without the reckless abandon that makes it love!

"Is there a God? Click here to find SIX REASONS that God exists."

Google Ad Sense has not been paying any attention, has it?

A Lilting Love

It is in the lilting melody of your thumri that my vagrant mind found it's path, my wayward heart it's rhythm, and my languishing love it's longing.

ख़यालों में अक़सर बहते चले जाने वालों में से हैं हम।
सुबह होने पर किनारों पे खींच लाने वाला कोई चाहिये॥

Liebesträume

O lieb, so lang du lieben kannst!
O lieb, so lang du lieben magst!
Die Stunde kommt, die Stunde kommt,
Wo du an Gräbern stehst und klagst!

Poem by Ferdinand Freiligrath

Set to music by Franz Liszt

Cut and rolled up thoughts
Smoulder on the lips, to breathe
A grey wordless smoke.