my-brokenlines.blogspot.com
Broken Lines: October 2012
http://my-brokenlines.blogspot.com/2012_10_01_archive.html
Thursday, October 4, 2012. Today the sky broke. The thunder faded and yet. The stench of heat remained. Words pelted and thoughts groaned. Eyes shuttered, lips smacked. But the sky remained pitch black. Croaking under the blackness. Of the shrouded cove. Tries and trials clashed. In their eternal marriage of. A vagabond life;. Where no peace, no hope, no light. Can enter the orifices of pale words. Today the world spoke,. The earth shook, spat and curdled. And anti-death woke into anti-life.
my-brokenlines.blogspot.com
Broken Lines: June 2010
http://my-brokenlines.blogspot.com/2010_06_01_archive.html
Sunday, June 13, 2010. A crumble of bread. Crunching down our throat. With milk to swallow it down. And trickles the sweat of time. With patience to swallow it all. The morning drum starts and so. Does the grind of clinching fists. With tapping keys and glassed eyes. I look for bread butter in the inanimate screen. And you look for salvation. For the unboxed mind. Where you are the orator of the stage. You seek the Godot and the Phantom. And grip on the fine thread from a. Street play given to us on lease.
my-brokenlines.blogspot.com
Broken Lines: Don't know what to name it. So I name it 'Dilemma'
http://my-brokenlines.blogspot.com/2012/12/dont-know-what-to-name-it-so-i-name-it.html
Saturday, December 15, 2012. Don't know what to name it. So I name it 'Dilemma'. I'm ready to breathe out in the open. But stifling me inside the air goes out. Taking my fear, my sorrow, my trouble,. While i'm sitting here by the edge of the world. I'm aware of the space outside -. But know how short lived it is;. Tearing through my veins is the burst of breath. Of a galactic murmur that's unheard, that's dormant…. What is more painful than the sound of heaving leaves. Your portico of gasps and gashes,.
my-brokenlines.blogspot.com
Broken Lines: March 2008
http://my-brokenlines.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html
Tuesday, March 11, 2008. My First Broken Lines. Was sitting all content, when a broken piece of mirror was thrown my way…. The shards scatter all around me…. A slice on moonlight falls on a thin piece from the window… the only source of light in this room that is –. The same moonlight in which we bathed together once, remember? And now that very streak of light tears me apart… that had nurtured us once…. The mirror… in which I can’t recognize myself anymore…. One by one…. Put them in place…. 8211; A Ques...
my-brokenlines.blogspot.com
Broken Lines: Entry from my Diary: November 13, 2008
http://my-brokenlines.blogspot.com/2008/12/entry-from-my-diary-november-13-2008.html
Tuesday, December 2, 2008. Entry from my Diary: November 13, 2008. This is a strange night. I can see the lights outside but there are none within. And Life just flashes past me with flickers of memories leaving faded sparks of futuristic blackouts – just like this candle. Books, clothes, pictures, few official papers… all strewn around, flickering in the flame of the candle will vanish in another few minutes – all that tell who I am. But they’ll come back again with the sun trickli...Such fake is the li...
my-brokenlines.blogspot.com
Broken Lines: Procrastination
http://my-brokenlines.blogspot.com/2010/09/procastination.html
Sunday, September 19, 2010. You and me sitting here. By the roadside - we're hungry and they're rich. No no no, not homeless. But a brick and mortar roof we have. That trickles of black sin every night. When we sleep and dream. Of wasted lives, of wasted wars and wasted spirits,. The blackened-sooted-embroidered curtains of our. Painted walls flutter and close in. Do we hear them? Do we hear the the whisper of the. Yonder trees cackling out with the age old shriek -. Skylines of the city? Have to shoot s...
my-brokenlines.blogspot.com
Broken Lines: Writing my Wishlist
http://my-brokenlines.blogspot.com/2010/06/writing-my-wishlist.html
Sunday, June 13, 2010. A crumble of bread. Crunching down our throat. With milk to swallow it down. And trickles the sweat of time. With patience to swallow it all. The morning drum starts and so. Does the grind of clinching fists. With tapping keys and glassed eyes. I look for bread butter in the inanimate screen. And you look for salvation. For the unboxed mind. Where you are the orator of the stage. You seek the Godot and the Phantom. And grip on the fine thread from a. Street play given to us on lease.
my-brokenlines.blogspot.com
Broken Lines: Seeking Answer to Madness
http://my-brokenlines.blogspot.com/2014/02/seeking-answer-to-madness.html
Saturday, February 15, 2014. Seeking Answer to Madness. I have seen a bit of me in you. I have fought myself with you. Seen the grass grow from green to blue. Skies turning from blue to red. I have hit the road when. The asphalt was still wet. I have quietened down my murmur. To keep your lips from burning red. I have thrown the rain drops away. When my hand was not yet full. I have kept their wetness with me still. So our hands could stick from falling. When the walls are being painted black. Chayanika ...
my-brokenlines.blogspot.com
Broken Lines
http://my-brokenlines.blogspot.com/2013/07/soldier-seeking-wall-consuming-brick.html
Monday, July 15, 2013. Wall consuming brick and mortar. Cementing in the last ounce left in you. Files and dot coms,. Myriad numbers to fall in line. Taking the cudgels of the cause. To feed the money grinding machine…. And let the deserted field see one more season. Of the grazing ground, fast fading into. Cracked wrinkles of the desolate earth. Gather around, fall in line! Don't look down, don't look up. March to the Temple where the. War for redemption will swell up. Where you will redeem your Medal!
my-brokenlines.blogspot.com
Broken Lines: Today
http://my-brokenlines.blogspot.com/2012/10/today.html
Thursday, October 4, 2012. Today the sky broke. The thunder faded and yet. The stench of heat remained. Words pelted and thoughts groaned. Eyes shuttered, lips smacked. But the sky remained pitch black. Croaking under the blackness. Of the shrouded cove. Tries and trials clashed. In their eternal marriage of. A vagabond life;. Where no peace, no hope, no light. Can enter the orifices of pale words. Today the world spoke,. The earth shook, spat and curdled. And anti-death woke into anti-life.
