Actor

Life is a stage for gimmicks
some flat and some flamboyant.
Dry and dirty walks, tired soul's
illusions, love and self pity.
He never knew the chairs cannot change
position in theatres..
He thought he would be viewed from all angles
in same seats till the play ends.
A colourful cloth, a wooden butterfly
and an hearty laugh for him was ecstasy,
the nectar of life. He spotted the diminishing
light of his heart in a distant planet,
reflecting the light of a dying star.
His veins and blood dripping
on to the clapping hands, the red audience.
He could still laugh, when the giggle bubbles
struggled through his thin bones, he felt the pain,
the pain of contempt, pain of negation.
When the raw meat from his bones melted
to the claps of entertaining crowd,
he saw the wind and felt the moon.
His life is fun for others,
his movements hilarious.
Laugh, you audience laugh.
Till he falls on the stage with eyes
of an hunted deer, till his blood ceases
to flow up to his chins, laugh and clap your hands.

Some thing different

This is my second attempt at blogging. I started one of my own in 2007 and discontinued it when I found that there is no rush of creative energy that can keep me going. Now I approach it in a lighter vein. May be as a place where I can put some of my earlier poems. When I get bored of writing news, I think I might turn to blogging. Thats for now