columned reflections?

What are these?
What shall I call them?
these reflections, these shadows
moves within the green curry leaves
blows as the wind blows, flickers with the light

These meshed frames
vertical columns of the dark and the light
the grey and the colour of the wall
ripples, as a red car passes
through the key hole, the cracks

What are these? theses columned reflections of what's not here
of what's outside
so far
so unconnected
linked through these columned reflections

They do not mean a thing
go unnoticed
flicker as the day changes
momentarily dies as you stop looking

Lost among childish days of boredom
of nothing
particularly nothing
abstract thoughts
voices that do not reach
voices of those accustomed faces
voices emanate from minds that do not see
do not acknowledge your columned reflections

Lying untouched
Till ..

~ 09/05/11 and 11/05/12

Continuous, alternating
hums and lulls
A thought
a thread of it
It incapacitates
it holds me
each gap in that song
a chance for your voice

Can I play the conversations in my head?
Can I play those visual frames?

most of it has not even occurred

~ 04 may, 12

started as quiet

We all started as quiet
You decided to remain so, refrain from what you could give, and eventually take
Forbade to mingle, to share
Your voice didn't proliferate
It remained the same
Hesitant
Quiet
Almost dispassionate
Like the others
Like most

06/05/12
6:44pm

pretty

The uncommon, the pretty beautiful
Peculiar almost. The charm isn't the usual, rigid, flaky
pale or dull
It's dark, deeply subtle, wit in her eyes
She bites her lips in confusion, is she wary?
Unaware of her quaint beauty?
Unaware of her subtle presence.
But then you decide to stand, take in in your full form

Constantly conscious, your hands hold your beauty in that ugly manner, in that grotesque manner
Pretty but no beauty emanates you. It died, when you stoop up.
Left me dull, and bereft of my intrigue, you took away some part of the charm of the day
It staggered away

06/05/2012
6:49pm

High

When the feet cannot stop tapping
Caffeine deranged my fucking conscience
And sub conscience

The yellow silence in the train fidgets
It fidgets
I need an outlet
I fucking crave an outlet
This is crazy, this is dangerous

I will not hurt you

Each nerve is restless
It precariously beats
Gnaws at the skin
Constantly
Constantly it debates

There is no numbness
It oscillates, it vibrates

Breathing erratically
Chaos- infallible
The urge to scream, to break

....


I hurriedly wrote it and could't complete it as my station was pretty near.

28th april

It will always be the new visual frames, the scattered clouds, those street signs.
That stranger whom we listened to.
 the unknown road that we came out onto.
 to taste the sweet food
 that unexpected marble box with pink petals
 the smell of incense filled wood
 the marvel of a look, a glance and some restrained half smiles

But when the chaos jerked to a halt. I felt listless.
I craved for the motion, for the chaos, again and again and again.