Outside my Window (Free Verse)

A sudden storm
Joy found in the cool breeze
Forgotten,  past hours of sweat
Wet t-shirt, as I gaze out from my balcony
Droplets carried by the wind, en masse
Her cold embrace, I know she loves me
I look out the window once I’m dry
The fly mesh, like the pores of my skin
I spend far too much time sitting there
Fairy lights in the distance
Blurred by the fall of rain
A tree towers over everything
In the background
Life slows to a trickle
Outside my prison grill
The crack of thunder
I rattle my chains
Rumble!
Clink
Rumble!

(My agoraphobia is getting better. I went out for lunch with family the other day. It was nice. This is the actual view from my living room window, a few hours ago. I don’t know why the neighbours, three houses down, have those fairy lights on their house. Probably a wedding…

🧐 🤔… Art!

The prompt Braden set: what is art to me?
This one was a real challenger
As hard as climbing a tall mango tree
Easier when I was younger
Now I’m scared I’ll lose my balance

We need to define and categorise
It’s what makes us humans- human
One of the things in a long list of traits
Dismaying many young students
Species, genus, order, phylum

We classify everything, helps us think quickly
But what is art? And what is it to me?
Action movies aren’t art apparently
And there’s a difference between genre and literary
I find as much beauty and truth in Naruto (shounen anime) as Bergman’s ‘Seventh Seal’

I guess, for me, art is about communication
I am touched when I see something that transcends nature
Meaning, a depiction that we are more than just beasts,
imprisoned by our animalistic urges:
Eat, drink, procreate, dominate

Playing
With structure
And
Conceptions
Is fun
And fun
Is good
I can
Feel it
Hence, ‘art’?
I don’t know
I’m
perpetually
Confused
By that
Blank canvas
With a
Taped
Banana
🍌
(Or is it taped to a wall? I’m too lazy to look it up now)



Reblog :Artist

One more! One more! Last post for today… Really!

i read Destiny’s entry for Braden’s prompt, about what art means to you. It reminded me of this post I made long ago on a blog that was deleted, and later revived at a new address, with many posts missing, since it couldn’t be properly recovered. Don’t read the other posts on that blog. They are embarrassing… I had recently gone through it to look for that old rooster picture. Those posts weren’t there… Keep in mind that I had only just started writing poetry back then.

For people who don’t want to click the link…

Does the artist create his art, I now wonder
Must he insist, animate canvas with his one answer?
Perhaps there is something moving his brush
Can it be? A depiction of more than just his mush?

Does he feed on some invisible fruit?
Depicting the songs of Parnassus’ choral muse?
Constructing the groves of spirit, and streams of truth?
Does his art belong to himself, or to the entire world?

Interpretations vary, the artist is baffled
But he must make up an answer, appear unruffled
(For his hand –or umm, mouth– holds the brush)

I Found A Lost Gem

I used to take part in her prompts in my previous avatar(my last blog ended with my mad rampage and self destruction. Think: {me yesterday} x100. I didn’t blog again for three years. I might write about it, when the time is right.) Cubby’s amazing. It’s a pity that she stopped posting. She was full of cheer, and I have not come across any prompts that were quite like hers. I’m thankful that she didn’t delete her blog.

I have been too active these past two days. I am going to try to restrict my posting. It’s just that everything else is so boring all of a sudden.

Tattoo Catastrophe

Sixteen
Going on seventeen
I thought I was a man
Drinking beer from a can (clandestine)
I confused masochism with masculinity
I found I had an affinity
Got a tattoo
Coz it was cool?
And also to cover the scars
Like the surface of Mars
My experiments with pain
(No gain)
At the edge of a blade
And the Reaper’s shade

It did not turn out well
I don’t feel swell
Parts of it are faded
(It needs to be upgraded, but I’m fed up with it)
Places where I shook too much
Shivered, trembled and such
The art is too simple
I like complex symbols
I should have gotten a badass dragon
Or an epic battle between angels and djinn
Should have gotten it in colour
Too late now… What a bummer

(Because you asked, Feets. I uploaded a picture, but WordPress is acting buggy. Tell me if you can’t see it

When I used to go to the gym I’d feel so ashamed of my small wrists… The things people feel insecure about…hehe 😂 Also… Hair… Somebody, Photoshop please 🥺 just kidding…)

Drawing Blood 😯

He poked the wrong vein
It was too thin and frail
Blood came out in a trickle
I don’t fly the hammer and sickle
But it was red!
What did I expect?

Too little red stained the tube
I wish I was as cool as an ice cube
But needles… I don’t like them
I expected the worst back then
Multiple jabs to bleed me out
But I was just mildly nervous throughout
It was like going on stage
Panic until I engage

I may not have been entirely calm
When he poked my other arm
I have been injected too much
During my childhood and such
I used to be quite sickly
Thin and prickly
Anyway, he used a big syringe this time
This vein was at its prime
Blood flowed with gusto

(I did a blood test this morning to check my lamotrigine level. My doctor needs to know, before she can reduce my medication. Now I am starting to think that it may not be such a good idea to reduce it, since I am feeling low. For bipolar disorder, Lamotrigine helps out with that, more than with the mania side of it. Reducing the dose too quickly can also lead to seizures. I don’t want to get seizures. But I am taking a pretty high dose, and I hate feeling dopey…

Strange memories come to the surface. I remember calling my penicillin injections, pencil injections. And also, a bloody enormous syringe filled with some dye for some scan… Through an IV tube, thank God!

Weird stuff has been happening on my WordPress… The social media side of things. I got a like almost immediately, and then an unlike… My post was viewed twice, so it was not a misclick. I don’t see anything objectionable in this post, though it is a tad boring… Or maybe it was a misclick… WP doesn’t do real time updates properly.

Just FYI, one of the ways I use likes is to easily find your blog and check if I’ve missed any posts, or to read new ones… Just saying… It isn’t all about me. Though mostly, they serve as a metric of whether I’m being read. Anyway, this isn’t a song… Journal type poems don’t matter much… I tell myself.)

A Medium Sized Rant (Or Cuckoo)

I’m feeling a little blue. I didn’t even know I was, until some comments I’d written helped me understand. They weren’t mean or aggressive comments, or anything like that. They were just a reflection of what I was thinking. I try to think deeply about things, with stress on ‘try’. A general sense of melancholy only gets noticed when there’s an outburst of some sort, or maybe that’s just how it works for me. I do not usually exchange comments with people I don’t know in the manner I did, which I found unusual later on.

I guess it all started when I started uploading my songs on YouTube and posting links here. I’ll be the first to admit that they need a lot of work. The recording quality is bad, the composition is all over the place, the volumes of the various tracks only further intensify the general cacophony, and the less said about my voice the better!

I’m feeling a little blue. I usually noodle around on my guitar when I feel like this, and it helps… but not this time. I’m feeling blue because of that damn thing! I tend to reflect a lot on myself, especially when I’m in one of my moods. I guess it helps me grow. So…

I’m feeling a little blue. I thought I’d be increasing the quality of my content and have fun doing it. It took quite a bit of work, even though the songs are very rough around the edges. They aren’t like writing. Writing is much easier. I wouldn’t care so much if my writing wasn’t read as much, since I don’t work hard on it. I don’t look for validation in my writing, most of the time. (If it was a web novel, an article, or a proper book, it would be different.) My songs are a whole other matter. Fueled by manic madness and dedication, it fell flat (my damn voice!) My plans backfired on me. From 50 hits a post, it fell to ~20. I don’t understand the drastic reduction. Do people hate my songs so much that it put them off everything I posted?

I’m feeling a little blue. I know I shouldn’t be, but the only person who has subscribed to my YouTube channel lately is someone wearing a strange hat and holding a gigantic machete. I know that I shouldn’t judge a person based on his profile picture, but this is just scary.

I’m feeling a little blue. I’m not sure if the reason I’m losing readers might be because of something else. Did I do something to upset everyone? I sometimes write and comment without thinking. I am not contradicting the opening para…I find it hard to think at times. My thoughts flow very slow.

I’m feeling a little blue. I used to post a picture I drew of a *ahem* rooster, and feel all better. I used to think that it was a very clever euphemism. I was 28 back then. Go figure… (Wait, I was 31. I counted wrong. Wtf!) Sadly, I’ve lost that picture. And looking back at it now, it would be a bad idea. I am, after all, a gentleman *snort*

I’m feeling a little blue. It might be because of some other stuff that I don’t even know about. Thinking can be dangerous. I miss my sister. She’s far away and not doing too well. The only thing I can do for her is give her some common sense advice…and pray.

I’m feeling a little blue. I miss all my friends. My closest one will be visiting my city in December, but he’s married now and has a kid. Things have changed. I am not sure how our meeting will go. I really want to see his little daughter though. I can’t imagine him being a father.

I’m feeling a little blue. Every day is the same. I don’t want to get out of my shell, but I hate it in here.

I’m feeling blue…oooh oooh oooh

Searching for feelings true

I’ll find them at the zoo

With the lions… and elephants too

Can’t find a lady to woo

Things are so boring boohoo

I want to skip to my lou

But I can’t get farther than the loo

The pigeons go coo coo

Just like that old clock

Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

On My Faith

I guess I’m Catholic
If I’m being diplomatic
I don’t know
It doesn’t show

It’s been a while
Since I went for mass
A self imposed exile
I’ve got a spiritual health pass
(Crowds make me sick
Public gatherings aren’t how I tick)

I used to be an altar boy
Early morning mass: deployed
I was filled with fervour
And youthful vigour
during my Confirmation…
Just thought I should mention

My ancestors
My great elders
Were Eastern Orthodox
From hat to socks
Their masses
And even (probably) Cathecism classes
Are so much longer
They sing in Aramaic… My mind wanders
I guess I still believe
My mom can feel relieved
Kinda
(Hear hear?)

Believe…

Just not in the way
I am supposed to…


I still pray
To old Jesu

Though mostly
It’s asking God
Father, Son and the Holy Ghosty
(I need it to rhyme
Please forgive the crime)
By His holy nod
To help some people I know
Some strangers included though

Or

…and this is the main one…

Asking Him
To help me not screw up
My life
Any further

Four lines to sum up everything

(I was reading someone’s blog, which I found very interesting. He writes on religious themes, explaining parts of the Bible and such. It got me thinking about myself…)

Clearly Loony (With Original[ish] Song)

(Subtitles included)

Moon moon
I’m staring at you
I’m holding a spoon
There’s a cat platoon
Riding a big hot air balloon
While head banging to a tune
Tag
You’re it, Orlando Bloom
Nah
He’s got serious business
At the saloon
With a cartoon tycoon
And Mario’s mushroom
Splat!
Roadrunner has run out of fuel
Don’t know what he’s going to do
They won’t take him at the zoo
There’s much ado
About something

I can’t sing
I can’t dance
Not wearing pants
Can’t go to France

Life’s a breeze
A hurricane
Can’t go out
Am I insane?

I see a cow
Jumping up and down
I see my spoon
Running around town
I see a dog
Laughing at the fun
And an old fiddle
On the rooftop run
I see the moon looking down on me
Touched by madness, I feel carefree
Arts degree
Lost in the sea
Don’t do this at home

Aripiprazole

I’m looking for the exit
I can’t seem to make it
I don’t want to fake it
Will it work if I shake it
I’ll find an oven and bake it
Tonight

(I bit my tongue 😦 😦 I did not plan on making a new song today. I thought I’d play something for fun after I finished practicing, and it just kinda happened. It didn’t take me long either)