Snmoked n Smnaked

A traffic of two
Jammed and congested
An undelivered message is not a mistake
A breath too long to take
A minute too long to wait
Hold on to that minute
See a flash of old rules
Come hunting for new game

Sliding its way out
Snaking its way through
Chamdi left behind
A smirk left crawling
All over on the face of the phone
Dont go searching
For the snake inside
The snake is gone
He now has a new home

A Night Out for the Noise

Curfew's on the prowl
A beat constable silencing all
Stung by the loss of echoes
Cry the strunged out howls
Trains of expressions
Ground to a halt
In the barren bad lands
There are no No Smoking signs
Kid yourself with that makeup and design
The engine is going on a strike
Puffing out
Just before an encore
Keema paoed
Once more

The Played

Names dropping everywhere
Inflicted with adjectivitis
Chunks in the mouthful of vomit
Fragranced and packaged
Spitted out

Nailed to the boxes
Pushed to the corner
The active works on its principle
To bury the passive alive

Beneath the pile of boxes
A grave without an owner
The question holds a silent prayer
Invisible to the players

Happy Hours

The world goes for a drowning
Going in whiskyoing
Jiyo.Jiyo.Jiyo.
Cheerso.Prosto.Brothers.All calling

The door revolves for the sake of revolving
The dance is slow
A rhythm beating to the teardrop
Fuck the tear wheres the beer
Served cold chilled and sobered
Sedated with laughter
Dance is getting strong
3-4 and the 5th peg begs the question
The hook bows down to the song

Hours have come to an end
No front and no behind
No waiting.No baiting
Sweet as the last drop of this spilled wine
Tomorrow your doors will again open
In search of yet another soul
Quietly quite broken

Svāhā

Enters the smoke of horror
Talking stops shooting
Silence demonises metaphoring
Fire scavenges at the bottom
You don't want to smoke, Unsmoken?
Time bypassing who computes with the clouds
Bye passing time where are you going now
Practice makes Perfect.

Sweet art of mine
The performance is on
Long time ago
The music stopped playing
They are all talking
Silence is struggling
Struggling for a voice
Finds him lying,Talking
Lying dead in the noise

Con-uh-sure

Is the only piece of complete art for the expert managing to find only incomplete pieces, his clone?

Escaping

Tunnels too many on offer
Recoiling and choking
Can recoil no further
Faces were once calling
Was good your whistling
Only their drowning
Humming to the horizon
Nothings being the only somethings
Exclamation masking the question
Intensity of your vanity
LHS of depression and RHS of inspiration
Fighting for equality
The mirror feeds on reflection
Stranger strangering at the stranger
Taking turns on solipsistic sufferings
Tunnels in the background
The mirror wants to break down