....In the dead of night

"2b"......r u listening me?...den dis one 4 u.....
IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT.....
when the world was snoring,sneezing and seducing
i was taking a chance from falling asleep.


no reason....,no rhyme
no one was even crying......
A sprain that i got yesterday
which hurts me now....
Then a sprain that i got ages back
which hurts me even more
I never see sprains to be of any use
though 'hurts' carry some significance.

Then while strumming a guitar
a simple bruise makes a scar....
why is the skin so thin?...
can't carry a bruise ......a scar

In the dead of night...
when i try to 'woo' her...
something significant
which pays me nothing but a 'hope'
when i try to draw her...
something more significant
which pays me nothing but a 'sure'
that i have a ''notion''
which is still not dead
that creeps in cob-webs
that sweats in cocoons
that stinks in hay-straws
though i don't believe..
that i can hear it,smell it or feel it...
but yeah.......i fear it
when she says it’s not there...
in cob-webs,cocoons or in hay-straws
but here in abstractions...........
i see no need to fear now
i see no need to tremble now
though i'm still fearing.......
,though i'm still trembling
so what if one day?......
in the dead of night
i try to close my eyes and..
she hesitates to knock at the eye -lids...................................................

now i'm trembling even more.
i'm falling asleep..
eyes wide open
a notion......
that i want to grow old with you
without spouting a sentence
what a butter cutting notion..?
which at dead of night
starts turning in to an abstraction..
an "ABSTRACT-NOTION"

............few imaginary lines
triangles,circles and rectangles
when they float........they float
when they merge.....they merge..
unbridled..............unapprehensive
they never come at a point
they never shake their heads...
in affirmation.....
they never confirm what they are looking for?...
a toast
a cheer
a melancholy
a morose
nothing which is 'sure'
If angina is there in the heart
if things are diagnosed' as they are'
if palpation stops for a second
a 'dejavu' for 'real'
i will never breathe again..
though i can hear the doctors shouting at nurses...
though i can experience the ward-boy...
taking away my wrist-watch
though i can feel the 'drips'.......
running in to my pulses
though a junior has removed it ages before
nothing makes unhappy
though thousands are there to chill the bones.

when they came with a shroud
they were sober
they did what they were good at
they were in a hurry..
presumably the runners of a Marathon
everything was clean
so what if they were in a hurry?
alright he is dead...
burn him before the sunset
nobody has to come from another country
that is past
but why are his eyes open...?
he pointed at..
that extra-terrestrial(E.T)one
now no eyes were there at the corpse
like sunken stomatas
they were in an effort to pop-out
to make a position away from the periphery..
bleary-eyed
blasphemous
bandits in the guise of clowns
in a slow motion
approaching eyes
shouting slogans 'close it' or 'snatch it'
they were rigid in their faces....
compassion and streaks dried since ages..
ear- drums still vibrating..
ear-pinnae still twitching
but diaphragms got ruptured
ear-juice got dried
noise had its own voice
i was frozen
far below freezing point
unnerved
claustrophobic.

In the dead of night
when a twilight blinks in the mind
when a viper slips in the fist
i'm here outside
to verify if dead or alive
the mind peeps inside a pool of dead cockroaches
to assure
does narcissism really exist?
do popes still buy a stake in love?
do monopolies still rule the feelings on this earth?
so what if an E.T comes with an extended hand
i have gothic notions with an extended hand
to surmise the birth of abstractions...
in the dead of night........
......
yesterday when i was drunk
today when i'm sober
if i give a second thought to liquid
i didn't change at all
but you always remain what you are..
in the dead of night with a lot of moon sighs
when i feel i'm wedded to life
do you feel i'm still in love with you
when notions are ready to grease my palm
when abstractions have developed their own arms
still mind detests an ambush...
may be its my own fault....
may be i'm crippled
rolling in a wheel chair..............
so i need an ego ,which has taken a backseat
to make me feel comfortable
whenever twi-light blinks
to push me down a slope
though i know i have nothing to offer you.....
except a back-seat
to detour me from
what life has to offer me.
Its not a challenge
never take it as a challenge
don't set parameters for a walk
don't set alarms for a mental block
nothing is biological.............
neither my existence......,nor yours
not even an umbilical -chord.

In the dead of night
when the E.T murmurs
i know the slope is now being leveled
the ear juice has no tract to follow
now,a murmur echoes only twice
once for NOTION
once for ABSTRACTION.

One day in the dead of
when everything will be alright
when eyes will remain wide open
wanting to give you a smooth motion
when the world will repeat sneezing,snoring and seducing
believe me.....................................................................................................
i won't be there
neither in cob-webs,cocoons,hey-straws
nor in the wheel-chair
but always there
in ABSTRACTIONS and NOTION...............
only IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT.