Saturday, March 28, 2009


(Courtesy: Barbelith Underground, The Adventures of the Little People)

Let’s organise ourselves,
Slash and burn,
Tease and turn,
No one can cause us harm.

Let’s organise ourselves,
Attack the stranger,
The lonely lion,
And march in one single file.

Let’s organise ourselves,
Be it my craft or your God,
Commonness shall dictate,
We won’t live and let you die.

Let’s organise ourselves,
No two thoughts for one,
That I have died eons ago,
So now we live and fight.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

a poem written in the first hospital stay

i die a thousand deaths,
pierced by million needles,
i bleed death.

shivers in the nighttime,
showers of sweat in the day,
sickness sounds like summer days,
teeming with life and longing.

i shall survive,

to bleed more and cry,
become even weaker.

facing pain,
twisting my nerves, numbness sets it,
bringing freedom from existence.