Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Scarlett Letterman

There is this place, a virtual stigmata
Where my buried secrets are unleashed
Sparking a defiant hollowness within
Rusted corners of the mind having a feast
They all come to send clues , subliminal clues
To a world rendered so obdurate
A world that was once so clam and blue
There is this place, with the final message

Anthrax like prototype of hurricane faced emotions
Swallow this poison or crumble down to my inner demons
Like a wingless moth at the mercy of this wind
That blows against such futile redemption attempts within
On a fabric of timeless creation, this imaginary fence
The problem with fiction is - it always makes sense

There is this place, a stateless equilibrium
Oblivious to the most obvious ,logic has faded
The onset of this agonizing end
Rusted corners of the heart invaded
An eventual integration of every blazoned hints
Squandering the lifelong false entrenchments
This path of crafting new fingerprints
An unmatched pain is this counter-enlightenment

Cyanide like taste of my bloodstained emotions
This shower of poison killing the inner pretensions
Like a hairless ape , that seeks cover in this acidic rain
That falls on the skin of self-deceptions and fame
On a bridge of nameless between the past and present tense
The problem with fiction is - it always makes sense

Sunday, June 21, 2009


Self-inflicted wounds pictures a deprived life
once held in the dungeon of darkness, decaying
bleeding, rotting, screaming inside
in brutal agony, melted bones and suffering

captivated mind through the sickness of rage
constantly persists to refuse the glimpse
of every dying dream and an illusive faith
horrifying reality awakens crushing the limbs

nailing the pins precisely, steadily increasing the pain
erasing all the feelings chopping the leftover
emotions with a deep incision, pouring cyanide in vein
burning internally, eternal torture comes over and over

dissecting the lungs hollowing out the smoke
paying close attention to keep this body alive
implanting more venom cutting the choked throat
replacing each organs by this artificial hate device

tranquilized misery proves his stinking flesh
watching science fail as this machine is carved out
from the body of this child so pathetic, so fresh
new born warhead, ready to kill in one shout

emptied streets and traumatized eyes
time for mass scale evacuation
but no where to hide this galactic demise
new countdown to extinction

a shower of bullets uprooting the bones
blood bath everywhere, chaos unleashed
he eats the bodies trapped inside the stones
and cleaning the blood stained surface till its polished

he is released to eliminate everything that exists
watching science fail as this machine is exhaled out
no more experiments, labs or scientists
simply the face of death all through out

This is one of my old poems inspired by the Nemesis Project of the Resident Evil movie from my poemhunter account. I felt like sharing it over here. Thanks everyone !

Thursday, June 18, 2009


Inside a melody stricken heart
Scorched by the wantonness
Some bury it with a formal clay
Some burn it with an unspoken confess

Without an organic dissection
This evolution remains like a chasm
Like a thought devoid of dimension
That speaks of obscene sarcasm

Using a black scalpel of rectitude
The fundamental rights are molested
Like robbing from a homicidal prostitute
A transaction where no emotions are invested

Realizations are gang raped by pride
Ego squanders the humility of truth
This divided earth is a stripping bride
Setting the impotence of mind on a cruise

Injecting a venom of lies
Self deception creates the polarities
Love is catharsis disguised
Our individuality is our mural iniquities

Hope is the best selling fiction
Fairy tales narrated by fairy who are sluts
This consciousness stands in conviction
Judgments comes from all corners with eyes tightly shut

Sunday, June 7, 2009

The Darkest Hour

The clock hand stood still
Every passing second hits upon eternity
As death stared at my will
I looked into the clueless horizons of serenity
The fading eyes stared up at the sky
A blurred vision of a time that rushed away
Thoughts blanked as this life passed by
Disguised into a choice of poison and this day

No arms to hold me here
No angels to hear me cry
No place to hold my obituary
No one to witness me die
No six feet grave for the body
No soul to make this life realign
No bleeding inside this parody
All pain is coherently redefined

The blowing cadaverous wind stood still
A touch of rejected redemption
The waves of guilt crash against my will
As I pay for this forlorn invention
Butchered by the remnants of black frailty
Lifetime supply of inordinate disgrace
A sphere of preconceived morality
Flip opens the heart into pieces without trace

No gates of heaven open for me
No breathe seems alive
No promised land to set me free
No salvation could revive
No sunlight appears today
No glory left to find
No more thoughts , nothing to say
All pain is redefined