crossing 27

some say it is an inflection point...
i have had many...

anyways
happy birthday to me...

Life is in the mountains
with thin air and sherpas and monks
and bullets with little brake
winding down curvy roads

life is in the hamlets
with momo and noodles and omlette
each passing breath taken with
great pain

life is in those hot and sour
and the turbid waters
and the scary rapids

life is not in this flashy world
with sunglasses and attitudes
trying to make a point when there is none

life is in the mountains
where there is none to impress but you.

Quixotic pathways

i am amused at the quixotic pathways i have taken
brandishing swords and riding black horses
to take on standing windmills only to return
shaken but unscathed
and yet again start another voyage
but never been able to leave myself and my awareness
to completely blend in the quixotic journey
and be one with the journey
and make it no more quixotic

i hope i can look into the real absolute true me
and then set ahead with that notion
with something which could by itself take care
of its reward and its realness

i wish the next quixotic journey
turns non-quixotic and thereby real...

---Phil

Sunset in alleppey beach

the sun has paused in its way

just for a moment before dipping into the sea

splashing the reddish orange paint across the horizon sky

the world has paused for a second 

before moving to darkness

the waves lap a silent whisper 

on the shores of the sandy beach

cool breeze blow leewards 

bringing respite to the day's heat

an ecclectic mix of colours play around the shore

with kids managing to escape the wave

but getting wet on trying once more

vendors selling cheap sweets

and tourists gaping at the beauty and the diversity

some small architects trying their designs in sand

to be washed away in the next wave

by the never-approving sea

some brown skinned boys playing in the waves

while kites trying to hold up against the blowing breeze

with the light house checking the sanity with long bright beams

and the old coffee houses with occassional lazy travellers

the new age digital cameras clicking around to capture

the frame that comes once per day

the ecclectic sunset in Alleppey beach

---Phil

Image courtesy: Lijo

bland ?

i sit in my chair in front of ivory desk
with a pen in hand and open book
i look for creativity to come to my finger tips
sipping black coffee with shivering lips

they said cocaine is better than caffeine..
or let all chemicals run in my blood
with tabs to get rid of this lingering feverish mood
and memories they come in a long train

no i am bland these days.. with feelings replaced by logic
no more the weakling who used to feel
instead metamorphized into this blandness..
making decisions based on statistics

let the room warp into a hollow space
and let me curl into a small ball
lying in a corner with no thoughts
but visions and hallucinations running through

and let my body be lighter and let it float
through the start studded skies
still there is no color to taste
and no drama to enact with passion

and let me sleep bland
with this lingering fever and tablets in my blood

---Phil

a half written poem

you were the misty mornings
you were the chilly nights
you were the sweet melodies
you were the silly fights

the reason for unending walks
the season for unending talks
the cinemas that mock the audience
the dances that test your patience

the thousand nights of sipping coffee
and thousand fights over keeping pets

---Phil