"we are all in the gutter,
but some of us are looking at the stars"

-wilde

stage fright

the shakespearean kind

the kind that includes all the world

the kind where we are all but players. 

because i could think of no title for this one

aahhh

this.
is.
empowering.

when you begin splashing inane words in such abundance
you never have to worry again about making sense.

like taking gravity for a ride to zero.

visceral

yes.

from here on, there is only one direction onwards.

lost track of time
of words
of meaning
and punctuation

lost track of which phrase is followed by a comma
or how many
how many times

working with building blocks
one at a time
forgot what it was
a house
a cage
a block of impenetrable concrete

what were we making?

the burden too great
the word too small
the meaning unable to lend itself to anything

still explodes

and that is how we end up here.

breaking free
breaking loose
like the loose winds
free and freewheeling
and while we're at it

why worry

there was a time when everything that came dripping out of the mouth felt like poetry
mostly because it didn't have to mean anything
and didn't mean anything much anyway

now we calculate our words
weigh them in the flawed system of our mind
and use language for every other purpose than to communicate
the most absolute and essential truths

and that is how we end up here.

here, now, drowning in this pool of desire

for the visceral
once more

so that silence can eventually suffice.

side note on the implications of being pyaasa

so badly want to believe this is my life's story

but am too much of a coward really
to ever allow such a thing to happen

life's mantra is to 'be water'
yet so cautious about not letting anything spill


will eventually have to die of thirst then.