Newcastle-Upon-Tyne

i gazed at the setting sun from the delhi ridge
only to act like oscar wilde running around the dublin bridge
i spent the summer shivering in a swiss frozen land
then returned to a warm winter amidst a dubai desert sand
i walked upon fallen buildings in gaza to admire a moment’s peace
and flew back to lake district with a fragrant day time breeze

nobody caught me crying in a lousy bar in lisbon
i hopped on the streets at midnight in the heart of brisbane
i went to karachi to trace the moonlit charm of the sea
and took shelter in mumbai under a monsoon swaying tree
i let go of my miserable art in the undying london snow
and ate a bizarre beijing dinner to go with the flow
i ran after a friend in conakry to wish him goodbye
i always looked up in respect towards the pleasant german sky

i returned to a romanian forest to deceive my endless pain
only to forget it all in the danish late night rain
then i locked myself in a cheerless room near newcastle upon tyne
to hang myself from the neck, my life could no longer rhyme..

i don’t support suicide neither am i depressed.
this poem is merely a journey of a depressed mind with no purposeful meaning. you may or may not connect with it. thanks.

evelyn

a plastic bag slides off the black pavement 
when hesitant eyes gaze at the 6th floor balcony
and the umbrella becomes more fragile against the wind so cold
dark burnt walls appear to be calm and strong

while the symphonic screams combine with the rattle of water drops
the presence of no one around gets hauntingly loud
the night succumbs to the painful storm of clear images 
and palpitations suddenly rise to grow insane

standing right there on top, for a moment she appears like a blank ghost
disappears along with white light, and the rain continues to pour down from the lamp post

“evelyn, i take all the blame….
haunt me again before i faint…”

Disturbia

Stray in the light of the moon

Simple as the dry lagoon

Is your fate, lifeless and pale

Helpless wanderer, collapse anytime soon

Winds took her away and she’s gone

The music of that Irish song

Is hauntingly cold and sad

To who do you now belong?

A poet’s belief is a dream

The voices that echo near the stream

Are vague and false as they seem

The silence shall continue to scream 

There’s gloom in the air and it shall stay

The smiles that reside in the month of May

Are an illusion, dreadful and morose

The universe is blindly turning grey

The wolves that howl loud in Serbia

The events of a lover’s hysteria

Are cursed and they collide with the world

No prayer can wreck this disturbia

The track that goes into the unknown

The heart that unwillingly stays alone

Is oblivion’s mighty symbol, yet without a soul

A tale of melancholic bliss, the truth will forever mourn

The woods. The fog. The wait.

Fade. Fade. Fade…