Fight You

You can not fight It - It is You
If you try to fight It - It is not You
If you do not fight It - It will find You

Sunday Driving

a car makes a sound
familiar
i rush to confirm
its not the car
i have been waiting for
and it is not sunday

the telephone rings
i rush out
out of breath
to reaffirm
there can't be anyone
missing me

then there is mail
a hundred logins everyday
to receive messages
from automated robots
maybe they understand
i need vitamins

i am trying so hard
to forget all these signs
and all those sounds
i squeeze out toothpaste
and forget what its for
where are my teeth

every other object
designed to bond emotionally
has served their purpose well
healing wounds
wounded again to reveal
how fine i could be without them

everywhere i go is
taking me further
less human more alien
everytime i go nowhere
i am in a hurry to believe
its not me driving

as the Beatles sing
in their insect voice
you and me sunday driving
not arriving
on our way back home
we're on our way home

we're going home

Orion Rising

Its that time of the year now, when early in the morning,
just a little South of East, the Orion becomes visible.

I look at it, and understand, that it need not have been this way.
But there it is. An eternal hunter clothed in stars.

And in some rare moments when all the motions cease,
i forget for a while, my need to understand.

A thousand years ago, someone looked at it, and asked,
will you still be there, when all my journeys have come to naught?

I was born to this day, to be a witness to that unchanging answer.

A thousand years from now, i might look at it again,
through someone else's eyes, and feel the same.

With no words, no judgement, no intent and no assurance,
it says, I Am Here. Some things remain.

And it always does. For all who ask. This time of the year.
A little to the South of East. Early in the morning.

Dry Storm

can i stand in the rain, waiting to get dry

can i stop feeling the cold, wet earth,
as it soaks my bones

can i remember good times, while the storm of bodies
washes lives away

can i keep still in this cold, while dreaming of a warm cup of tea
in trembling hands

can i sleep while these random words
close every open sentence

can i think of thoughts at this time
while they are fighting on their own

can i build a dam of perseverance
around kindness and songs of love

can i compare black with white
when the dry storm appoaching from the edge keeps reminding me
they are grey

Ascension

have heard of the fables
of reconstruction
of time's virginity
woken up
repeated hearings
of consumers of faith

have gone in many a times
into the abyss of light
into the womb of termination
realised patterns
of defining beauty
in conversations
without meaning

have scratched porcelain sinks
when all the fables
of reconstruction
come alive

Myxomatosis

Myxomatosis is a disease which infects only rabbits. It is caused by the myxoma virus. First observed in Uruguay in the early 1900s, it was deliberately introduced into Australia in an attempt to control rabbit infestation there.

First field-tested for population control in 1938, a full-scale release was performed in 1950. It was devastatingly effective, reducing the estimated rabbit population from 600 million to 100 million in two years.

Myxomatosis was deliberately introduced in France in 1952. By 1954, 90% of the wild rabbits in France were dead. It reached the UK in 1953, apparently without human action. By 1955, about 95% of rabbits in the UK were dead.

ExtraOrdinary

to be extra-ordinary
start by accepting
you are ordinary