Tuesday, April 17, 2012


This is 3 AM poetry (!). I have woken up before at this time. Most of the times I am chrono-confused, thought-cobweb ridden, and thirsty. This time it was slightly different.

You know that phase before your physical body wakes up? When your mind has hushed your not-so-bad nightmare, but hasn't triggered any physical alarms in your body? When your thoughts, all awake, start working in mysterious ways and shape your ideas in some form or the other? That time. My dream-navigator (which is just some form of me) formed a few lines of the poem and forced me to accept their awesomeness so much so that I was commanded to wake up.

I woke up. I opened Evernote on my phone and wrote a few lines down. DN couldn't thank me enough. Didn't allow me to sleep for a while. I negotiated my sleep eventually. Next morning I sat on the pot and added a few more lines. I know it seems a bit disjointed, but I don't want to work on it. Some art is abstract.

Some people too.

Sanity Lunacy
Freedom Bondage
Protection Security
Human Alien
Personal Social
Religion Extremities
Love Hate (Really?)
Food Taste
Memories Vacuum
Past Present
You and Me
On a related note: Blank

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