the 'Fist' & the 'Pacifist'

Monday, July 04, 2005

Love songs like small whispers.
Drunk on a Sunday Night. The new week, a life time away.
I laugh to myself, the delusions of a little man.

You are asleep in my little town.
Maybe you think, a thing of the past, might not yet be over.

I thought about you on Suburban trains.
When I missed you, I closed my eyes in the river breeze.

Imagined Road trips, when I squinted behind shades.
Turned around to see if you were standing by the door.

When I had an aching head, I wrote bad verse.
On cold boat trips, I longed to hold your hand.

At parties, too bored to be happy, too drunk to be sad.
I wanted you by my side, I wanted to turn heads.

Polished guitars in show windows, I wish I had a song.
Flower shops under stripped tarpaulin.

Close to midnight, writing to you on white sheets. I finally realize.
All I ever wanted was a beautiful love story.

Labels: Fiction

4 Comments:

Anonymous said... On Wednesday, July 06, 2005 2:30:00 am

nice :)

more please. their beauty lies in their simplicity.

Parna

lemongrass.blogdrive.com

Rohan said... On Wednesday, July 06, 2005 2:39:00 pm

Gee thanks :-)
Glad you like them. I guess I am in one of those "Hallmark Cards - sweet nothing" phases.

Dont tell me, yes I know, I know I need to grow up.

:-) Cheers!

RajpaL said... On Monday, July 11, 2005 12:06:00 pm

nice!! I have never known anyone whos in IT and also writes poems !

Rohan said... On Monday, July 11, 2005 11:38:00 pm

Hi,

Yeah sheer escapism, from the rigors of doing code fixes :-)

Keep coming back mate!
Cheers!

lament for icarus

words of wisdom

If you're going to try, go all the way. Otherwise don't even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives, jobs. And maybe your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery, isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance.