NOTICE
Blog has been shifted to another site, and will be continued from there. Link is:
http://myromanceideas.blogspot.com
take a look!
Monday, March 10, 2008
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Ventriloquist-Joshua Nassiri
[Ventriloquist.]She’s locked inside a silent, velvet case.
With bright blue eyes and lips she cannot move,
Her wooden tongue speaks others words of lace.
If the words are sincere, she could not prove.
If she could tell of what she hopes each day,
If you could hear the thoughts from which she aches,
You’d hear a yearning for a voice to say“I wish I had real eyes instead of fakes.”
She wants to have beautiful eyes of blue
Because with eyes so true, you see the world.
Her wish couldn’t mean anything to you;
You watched the Earth around you while it twirled.
This doll is crying out a lonely plea
For life; If only painted eyes could see.
Monday, March 3, 2008
I FELT LIKE SHARING THIS ALTHOUGH THERE ARE LIKELY TO BE COUNTLESS SUCH OTHERS
And then he was blinded by the sunlight streaming through the tower as he stared through it
Depression gives way to the best masterpeices-Unnamed as of now
I'll die smiling, Something IN the past Someone said to me will, Make me laugh, And I'll lay back and fade away, Let me go I'll be fine, Frozen here in time, Sick of being alive, Eaten up inside Let me die, Go away, I never got what I wanted, I never got what I needed, What's on my mind, Who can say? It's my invention I'm beating, I can not stop all this bleeding, I'll be ready, Give me the morphine and I'll go to sleep, As I dream maybe I will just slide away, Let me go I'll be fine, Frozen here in time, Sick of being alive, Eaten up inside, Let me die, Go away, I never got what I wanted, I never got what I needed, What’s on my mind? Who can say? It's my infection I'm feeding; I can not stop all this bleeding
An Unholy Cry- Joshua Nassiri
Once again, by Joshua Nassiri- luv Sanj
An Unholy Cry
Don't We all need something to help ?
Don't we need something to get through this dark day
My mind screams out an unholy supressed cry
Hating it on and on ,
I can't bear this any longer
We need someone to rely on someone,
Someone to trust,
Someone to cry with ; Don't We ?
Horrified with what may come ahead
Unsure as I tread on something new
Confused , hated and scorned , is it worth it? Should i go?
The monsters have broken loose and the secrets out of all hell breaks loose
And all that remains is self denial and self hatred
I hate you then I love you
But it's too horrid a thing to write and mortified am I in this hate.
An Unholy Cry
Don't We all need something to help ?
Don't we need something to get through this dark day
My mind screams out an unholy supressed cry
Hating it on and on ,
I can't bear this any longer
We need someone to rely on someone,
Someone to trust,
Someone to cry with ; Don't We ?
Horrified with what may come ahead
Unsure as I tread on something new
Confused , hated and scorned , is it worth it? Should i go?
The monsters have broken loose and the secrets out of all hell breaks loose
And all that remains is self denial and self hatred
I hate you then I love you
But it's too horrid a thing to write and mortified am I in this hate.
Joshua's rather graphic ode to Valentines Day. Not for little children
Full credit goes to Joshua Nassiri-luv Sanj
Valentines: The Reckoning
And so the day of St. Valentine approaches.
And so the day of St. Valentine approaches.
A lovely time when stores look like Clifford ralphed all over the shop,
And those damned cupids start poking arrows in eyes and asses.
Delightful, is it not?
I think I'd rather be the anti-cupid.
Spread the love?
I think not.
Spread the blood, spread the gore,
Lets see how romantic the G.I tract is hanging from the bed.
Delicious, delicious.
A cacophony of screaming, crying,
Now that's what I'd like to hear.
Oh Valentine's day,
Beseech me your fool,
And the heart of the coming day of Reckoning.
Let's see these people love
Without that bloody heart in their ruined breast.
Wait For Me- My own story that inspired me to start a blog
This is a story that I had written for my school magazine under a word limit, so please forgive the shortness of it all. I claim full rights to it, so please do not copy it.-luv Sanj
Wait For Me-Sanjana Mathur
He had always been drawn to shoes. They were there one thing that left a lasting impression on him. Despite not being able to remember faces or voices, he would always remember the shoes.
He sat at the train station, keeping his eyes fixed downwards, observing the feet of passers by, his long messy hair shielding his face from the curious glances thrown his way.
The train would arrive soon. People could already be seen gathering at the platform, yet he didn’t move. It was a small game that he liked to play. He would challenge himself by seeing how finely he could cut the time between his arrival and the train’s.
For brief moments, his eyes would leave their keen observation of the passing shoes, to flicker up to the large clock and timetable that was situated above the bench on which he sat. It was almost time.
His eyes shifted their gaze downwards again, to settle on a pair of black suede sneakers, which held his gaze. They seemed familiar, and brought a wave of nostalgia washing over him. Whose were they? He didn’t know. They just felt as though they held some importance in his life, and he felt compelled to follow them.
He could hear the distant rumbling of his train pulling into the station, but a brief glimpse of auburn hair that vanished as soon as it appeared, sent him tripping after the shoes with only one thought on his mind, “Could it be?”
Stumbling into a clear patch around the ticket counter, his suspicion was confirmed.
“Kira” he breathed, so softly that he was surprised when her head whipped around at the sound of her name.
Shock was evident on her face as well, as it morphed from questioning to recognition. Her only reply was “Nathan”. There was a brief moment before they hugged, a moment when they were 16 again. They parted and returned to being two separate adults who happened to be acquainted. Where should one pick up from after 10 years? After 10 years of being helplessly in love with each other, faces that they had not seen in ages; faces that they thought and hoped they would never see again. What one did was engage in a pleasant domestic conversation about the present. Jobs; recent movies; news. The one thing that they did not touch upon was love life, and the past, for fear of what could be.
Both agreed to a lunch at a café. Both had missed their trains. He was pleasantly surprised to find that she hadn’t changed much. Maybe, just maybe something was possible.
The evening brought an offer from her to drop him home. The train was delayed; there was no point in waiting much longer. He called his sister to tell her that he wasn’t coming. They made their way to the exit, to be greeted by a silver haired man with the fist of a small girl clutched in his hand.
“Kira! Lily and I were worried about you!” The man called her by her first name. Was he a friend? Or maybe it was her brother with her niece.
“Mike, this is an old friend of mine.” She paused for a moment, uncertainty glistening in her eyes, before she continued. “Nathan, this is my husband Mike and my daughter Lily”
She had given up on him and moved on, and now finally gave him the permission to do the same. But the uncertainty in her eyes brought him back to the train station every Sunday.
He had always been drawn to shoes. They were there one thing that left a lasting impression on him. Despite not being able to remember faces or voices, he would always remember the shoes.
He sat at the train station, keeping his eyes fixed downwards, observing the feet of passers by, his long messy hair shielding his face from the curious glances thrown his way.
The train would arrive soon. People could already be seen gathering at the platform, yet he didn’t move. It was a small game that he liked to play. He would challenge himself by seeing how finely he could cut the time between his arrival and the train’s.
For brief moments, his eyes would leave their keen observation of the passing shoes, to flicker up to the large clock and timetable that was situated above the bench on which he sat. It was almost time.
His eyes shifted their gaze downwards again, to settle on a pair of black suede sneakers, which held his gaze. They seemed familiar, and brought a wave of nostalgia washing over him. Whose were they? He didn’t know. They just felt as though they held some importance in his life, and he felt compelled to follow them.
He could hear the distant rumbling of his train pulling into the station, but a brief glimpse of auburn hair that vanished as soon as it appeared, sent him tripping after the shoes with only one thought on his mind, “Could it be?”
Stumbling into a clear patch around the ticket counter, his suspicion was confirmed.
“Kira” he breathed, so softly that he was surprised when her head whipped around at the sound of her name.
Shock was evident on her face as well, as it morphed from questioning to recognition. Her only reply was “Nathan”. There was a brief moment before they hugged, a moment when they were 16 again. They parted and returned to being two separate adults who happened to be acquainted. Where should one pick up from after 10 years? After 10 years of being helplessly in love with each other, faces that they had not seen in ages; faces that they thought and hoped they would never see again. What one did was engage in a pleasant domestic conversation about the present. Jobs; recent movies; news. The one thing that they did not touch upon was love life, and the past, for fear of what could be.
Both agreed to a lunch at a café. Both had missed their trains. He was pleasantly surprised to find that she hadn’t changed much. Maybe, just maybe something was possible.
The evening brought an offer from her to drop him home. The train was delayed; there was no point in waiting much longer. He called his sister to tell her that he wasn’t coming. They made their way to the exit, to be greeted by a silver haired man with the fist of a small girl clutched in his hand.
“Kira! Lily and I were worried about you!” The man called her by her first name. Was he a friend? Or maybe it was her brother with her niece.
“Mike, this is an old friend of mine.” She paused for a moment, uncertainty glistening in her eyes, before she continued. “Nathan, this is my husband Mike and my daughter Lily”
She had given up on him and moved on, and now finally gave him the permission to do the same. But the uncertainty in her eyes brought him back to the train station every Sunday.
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