A Break

It can be one day, week, month, year or a decade…. I don’t know. I am going on a break.

Like one of my Russian friend who video chats with says …. Chmok Chmok Do Svidaniya it means Kiss Kiss Bye.

An Unforgotten Face.

I think I told this many times before. I don’t write much in Springand Summer. I write when the weather is cold. I once even wrote a poemabout it. These days, mmm, I can write ten poems a day, as there are alot of ideas that comes to my mind. But I say, it is too hot to write.hehehe.
  I don’t forget promises, I am a man of my words. Hope you all understand what I mean. You will soon see.

Now the poem, there are times when on a given moment you will feel thatthe whole moment or piece of time is a repetition. I have gone throughthat many times. Thinking about those times I got the following poem. Iwrote it as I thought it is worth writing it.

An Unforgotten Face.

A thousand images through the mind passed,
Illusions from real life events weaved,
Ruled the mind with vigor of a cold war dictator,
Ah’ as the alternatives in pathetic formulas failed,
Some images to mind came,
Which only in imaginations lived.

Time raced at the face and fell behind,
Into days, months and years gone by forever,
The chaos, the high speed, the sudden breaks,
Into the whirlpool of time all went away,
All a mockery of the given illusion, life,
That grown and spread like the blue sky.

Between time’s magical movement,
A reality into every moment blended,
Passions, fantasy and fascinations played,
Oh’ reality lost its meanings in time,
And every sense along with it fabricated,
Images of long lost passions that remained.

Amid those images mind in never ending search,
To find that one real face that sprouts memory,
Memory of a happy moment mind always cherished,
But sometime in ones own failures,
And sometime for the happiness of others withdrawn,
Now mind know not which image is real or fantasy.

There is a new direction my mind see, it is worth thinking about it.When imaginations turns to words in mind, You all sure will see thosewords here.

A Riddle And Waiting Beauty

Here is a riddle.

I am lazy these days, as I am waiting for something. It ispretty much waiting I can do. So other than waiting I cannot do much. Thesedays I use my Treo as a modem to connect to the internet using PDA.Net.As I am waiting for phone calls daytime, during daytime I don’t connect to thenet at all. Night also I am not much on the net except for some quick visits toblog sites like Xanga, Facebook, Myspace and emails I cannot access using Treo.During the waiting the following poem kinda got into me. In the end I looked ata photograph to really understand the beauty to finish the poem. Which photograph??Aha… the answer goes into my vault of secrets which only love can open.hehehe.Now whoever knows me very well should look back, way back after reading thewords of this poem carefully, then they will understand what picture I lookedat…


Waiting Beauty.

About the childhood days a lullaby she wrote,
And forgot every word of that well rhymed verse,
About the adolescent days a ballad she wrote,
And let world around her fall in love with love.

All the gone by days and years as a monument stood,
Of a life from the roughest thoughts polished,
As a gem of the precious nature,
Shedding light into even the darkest minds.

A narrative about the lifetime ahead she must write,
Alone in this world she never will be,
As she know what loneliness means,
Alone she never will leave, any loving heart, in pain.

And with every moment of the rest of her life,
A monument of love, compassion and joy she will build,
Everyone through her sense passed,
As heavenly blessings through their life will cherish.

Beautiful she is and the beauty inside her out glows,
The beauty mankind ever seen,
And that beauty in the perfection of life celebrates,
And that beauty in the imperfection of life weeps.

A beauty in all perfection for the woman in her waits,
As world around her in hopes and wishes gathers,
To celebrate the love and compassion of the blessing,
That comes from the life of a wonderful woman.

From Broken Patterns.

I owe you all a lot of picturesand videos. I promised that. I tried to upload it but it didn’t work out. Iwill try again later in the weekend. Hope you all doing great out there in thiswonderful summer. I am feeling a bit lost, well, I am honest, and some how Iwant to escape into a dream. But dreams and their fulfillments are all forpeople who truly understands, how lucky they are. I don’t think I belong inthat group anymore.

From Broken Patterns. 

The little games playedaround in the innocence years,
Oh’ how wonderful memoriesin the mind they lay,
Every bit of time inimaginations spent,
And every imagination like abit inside a kaleidoscope. 

Ah, those wonderful patternsthose bits of no value made,
Through years that left innocencein growth of mind and body,
Still in the mind colors andshapes from those patterns came,
None ever repeated,everything left leaving a beautiful impression. 

Meanings defined, Oh’ theyall meaningless remained,
Predications made, Ah, theytoo became blabbering,
Of a mind in a bubbled upfantasy land,
That made the bits andpatterns in time, valueless. 

Then came a glow that unitedall those patterns,
In beauty and charm unknownto all senses,
That took the shape of aloving heart,
And became real in you.

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