Sunday, June 27, 2010

Synchronicity- POLICE

It's an excerpt from the album Synchronicity by the Police.. the band. Mostly the lyrics are by Sting, and some really hit me hard. Thought of storing them in the webspace.


All our greatest killers were industrious
At least the ones we all know by name
For it's murder by numbers 1 2 3
It's as easy to learn as your ABC.

If we share this nightmare
Then we can dream
Spiritus Mundi

A star fall, a phone call
It joins all, Synchronicity

If we explode the atom bomb
would they say that we were dumb?

They say the meek shall inherit the earth...

We want our tea in the Sahara with you...

Thursday, June 17, 2010

About Time

When there’s little room to open your wings
No matter how strong the air pushes you up
The wings at most flutter by itself
Knowing well flipping sides won’t help.

And when there’s no room for flexing muscles,
In the closed space of suffocated breathlessness
What’s the use of all the barbells you pump
For the very fabric is unable to bear the stress?

When you feel like you’ve been trimmed off your spirit
Your effervescence, your zeal, your very soul
When you know your waves will go uncaught,
Would you honestly spare a thought?

That is when sparks do fly
Not for the concrete conglomerate, but the humble and shy
For what’s yours, what’s own, is what you conceived,
Like a baby, parenthood succeeds all and sundry.

Monday, June 14, 2010

'To My Lovely'

Don’t come so close to me
That I can smell your perfume,
So close that I can see through your anemic skin,
I smell your perfume that has mixed up with the sweat and sunburns.
The tans and the waxed legs that you were ever so proud of,
Don’t come so close so I can’t feel you anymore.

Stay afar, on the other side of the bank.
Sit idle under the grand banyan tree maybe, or by
the stairwell where the village women would come in the evening
over their watery fights. Read, keep reading the book of longing,
and long to belong in the beholder’s arms. Shed a tear for the man
you’ve never seen, but don’t come close that I can touch you.

For there has been too many bloodshed on this side of the river,
Opulence cut the throat of sovereignty long back, where freedom was once
fed, is now the battleground for hostility, and the fear of death. For you,
‘to my lovely’, should stay far, curling strands of your highlighted hair,
for the blood that was lost, and the revenge that was avenged, stand
testimony to the love repossessed.