Okay. Perhaps not so dramatic. Still, it feels as though a chapter of my life is coming to a close, and a new page has been opened. Blank paper fortune cookie. I do hope I get into ACJ. It’s going to be tough but I’m up for it. I wasn’t sure if it was too soon. I’ve only been in ...
I have been forcefully secretive. Sworn to secrecy. I have had nails stuck through my palm, Bled on thorns, on whips and chains. All in the interest of being sociable. Being able to socialize. Society - a sick joke.
I am experiencing the molecule. I witness the atomic structure. I see multitudes, multiverses - square-ruled-grid-of-mind. I see forty six and two ahead of me.
I was born a few centuries ago, of this I’m sure. I have lived to die and be born again. I have seen stars turn to portals. I have stepped through. I am no more further than apart from you. Within every neuron is a universe. Within every universe galaxies of neurons. One door led to a field, tall yellow grass, yellow sun, and a lemon tree. The picture pattern door has been opened.
The word ‘psychedelic’ means ‘mind manifesting’ and I don’t think any culture understands this in a more interesting way than Maldivians. Simply because I haven’t been exposed to many cultures, and most Maldivians I’ve met are quite able to perceive things in a rather trippy way. Whether this has anything to do with the heaps of opium their forefathers smoked, ...
Paranthan Chemicals Company Ltd So Daily Mirror reported that an explosion had taken place at the Kalutara Industrial Zone. What is actually the Fullerton Industrial Zone did experience a chlorine leak, though no such explosion had occurred. On visiting the site we were made to wait an hour until we were able to speak to officials at the Paranthan ...
The following is an exchange between a student his professor on the existence of God: Professor : You are a Christian, aren’t you, son ? Student : Yes, sir. Professor: So, you believe in God ? Student : Absolutely, sir. Professor : Is God good ? Student : Sure. Professor: Is God all powerful ? Student : Yes. Professor: ...
Yesterday I was all dressed up for awurudu. Yesterday was my first day in school. Yesterday I was a kid in montessori. Yesterday I was a fetus within the womb. Yesterday I was my father’s seed. Yesterday a speck in the cosmos. Yesterday I was on my death bed. Today I will die again.
The Annasi & Kadalagotu Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/Kadalagotu Facebook Event: http://www.facebook.com/events/282079265211303/ UPDATE: We have shifted the venue to our friend Sharni’s residence on Greenlands Avenue in the interest of a larger space and breathing room for our suffocated poets! Below is a map for those who are prone to getting lost in the jungles of Hav’ock Town: P’8:re P‘Lau P Notes by Kris We had about ...
The Annasi & Kadalagotu Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/Kadalagotu Facebook Event: http://www.facebook.com/events/282079265211303/ P’8:re P‘Lau P Notes by Kris We had about 60 poets at the last session on March 10. And several more ghosts. So the cafe was a little sardined. There was suggestion to use a microphone and amp, for the whisper of poetry to float over the low buzz of commerce and under the sting of ...
Self-realization dawns to some at an early age. I suppose they are the lucky ones, able to get their act together and focus on what they need to get through. I don’t think I fall under that category. Adolescence was not the easiest phase for me. I can’t look back at myself as a kid and relate to anything really. I feel ...
Tell me something. Something about the way I am. About how this will never work out. How we’re too different to be the same. We’re too difficult. Too much. Much of the same. Speak in riddles. I will answer in rhyme. Sing in verse. I will hum the line. Delicately tuned - Glued to the frequency of you. Static in ...
Those of them that run down cheeks, Hold my hand for company. Palms wet and heart wrenched; This cloud has no silver lining. You were something of a dream, The kind that keeps me awake, Tossing and turning, Just as you would have been. Those who say that fate has reason, Are deaf to the pleas of the heart That ...
Don’t come to me when your heart is beating up your head. Don’t come to me when the river meets its end. They say the sea refuses no river, But this ocean has no more room, Brimful with tears yet to be shed. You opened the door and packed my bags for me. Yet you seemed to miss the baggage ...
Smokers at a funeral, Mocking the dead With their Dunhill Lights And Marlboro Reds. The living thrive In reckless abandon. The dead left to make Earth’s union. Smokers at a funeral, Throw cigarette butts On the cemetery grass. Sparks light up The dried up leaves, Signal to the wind, “Breathe on me” Fire at a funeral! The living unaware A ring of ...
Would you be the clouds? Or would you be the sea? And I – the heights that breathe. Would you be the waves? I – the ocean bed A thousand leagues between.
You’re a blank sheet of paper, A white canvas begging for colour. My imagination is boundless Within your picture-frame. Quivering hands grip your sides. Shivering, the brush meets skin. The slightest mistake and I’m sent reeling, Painfully paying meticulous attention To every detail of your being. In abstract shapes, colours fill spaces I’d rather be. Breadth, length, width and every ...
I’ll admit, I had no idea who Kony was until the recent surge of Facebook statuses and the viral video circulating spreading awareness. Personally, I do not feel like there is much I can do to help. This may not be true though, there may be organizations out there working hard to fix this. Where’s their viral video? Who’s spreading ...
