Metropolitan Desert Rose
not of flesh and blood they are made
Particular Moments
More Stars than There are
Tag: Irony
September 19, 2017
Freedom Days
Taste of flat beer,
Surprisingly, brings back
distant memories of freedom Days,
Free Days and
Easy ways—
Almost always, Blasé.
When one needn’t
to do much, but to Observe and Sway,
and sometimes crave—
barely Awake,
Still sleeping…
Oh!
this was Our
best state—
Rarely aspiring to don
on the great Atlas,
Never fearing
the coming
of a crucial Date.
November 29, 2015
Tolls of Being “Loved by gods”
” ‘You don’t understand me, Harry,’ answered the artist. ‘Of course I am not like him. I know that perfectly well. Indeed, I should be sorry to look like him. You shrug your shoulders? I am telling you the truth. There is a fatality about all physical and intellectual distinction, the sort of fatality that seems to dog through history the faltering steps of kings. It is better not to be different from one’s fellows. The ugly and the stupid have the best of it in this world. They can sit at their ease and gape at the play. If they know nothing of victory, they are at least spared the knowledge of defeat. They neither bring ruin upon others, nor ever receive it from alien hands. Your rank and wealth, Harry; my brains, such as they are—my art, whatever it may be worth; Dorian Gray’s good looks—we shall all suffer for what the gods have given us, suffer terribly.’ ”
—Basil from The Picture of Dorian Gray
November 4, 2015
Revival in A World of Irony
He was not the real husband, nor father—who had disappeared for over a year, presumably lost in the woods. The man here was simply a passer-by (somewhat) who managed to fix the generator. Waking, the woman had mistaken him for her long-absent spouse.
June 9, 2015
Helplessly Vicarious
I’ve been
Catching
Dark Flies within—
Won’t you
Stay your
Welcome?
The You
So near
But nowhere found,
I am
Scrubbing
The Outside
To A
Shimmer—
Hoping
The Glare
Will bring
You
Around.
April 27, 2015
Bastards of Young
“The ones
Who love us
Best,
Are the ones
We’ll lay
To rest,
And visit
Their graves
On holidays
At best.
The ones
Who love us
Least,
Are the ones
We’ll die
To please.”
September 5, 2014
Misunderstood
Inescapable lures;
Deflated mornings.
I’m afraid
That I shall never break free,
Uncuffed from crippling yearning,
Emancipated from the cage of
Forever falling.
Innocence besmirched
By those who criminalize,
Prosecute and Villainize
The conjured up,
Perverted me.
Condemning
In blind contempt,
They know not
That I am Purity,
Too bright,
Too shrouded
For them to face
And realize.
Particular Moments 