D-18

Thank you, Chuck!

“Do you know what the problem is between us?”

We were sitting in a room that seemed like it hadn’t been touched for generations. Just some cold remnants of happier people left behind. An old photo frame stuck in the corner, meant to commemorate some miniscule moment in a miniscule life. Like this one.

“We have a lot of problems. But do you know what the dominant issue is?”

Silence from the other side of a centuries old wooden table. You can’t help but imagine the tree this would have been, bearing fruit and other trees instead of spending decades as someone else’s plate elevation. An entire forest now supporting our dinner.

“Let me tell you a story of when I was thirteen. A whole bunch of us were out in the wilderness exploring Karnataka. Did you know there’s this stream in the middle of the forest which is different than the rest? I forget what the locals call it, but it translated into the stream of a thousand shiva-lingas.“

“A thousand penises of Shiva?”

“Exactly. A thousand Shiva-dicks. Made out of stones in the river carved at the patient hands of Mother Nature. Now here’s a group of thirteen to seventeen year-olds sitting in the afternoon, counting penises in the water while picking off leeches that crawled up the tiny gap between our legs and our pants. And you know what’s funny? None of us realised it then.”

“Is there a point to this story?”

“The first point is this. As a kid when you’re exposed to hunting down phallic rocks in a freshwater stream, you’re bound to grow up looking at the world differently. We all go through these moments. It’s the main reason you look at a baseball bat and realize it’s hard wood in more ways than one.”

Again, silence.

 “However the main point, is the leeches.”

“The leeches?”

“Yes. Leeches. An astounding and insignificant creature. Their saliva has a local anaesthetic so you won’t realise it’s on you until you look for it. And you can’t just pull them off coz then their jaws are stuck to you like a dismembered lizard’s tail, thrashing and spewing blood. Your blood. Do you know how to get rid of a leech that’s latched on to the back of your right buttcheek?”

“I assume you’re going to enlighten me?”

“Well, I've only heard of two methods. The first is you take a pinch of salt and put it right at the mouth of it. The salt absorbs all the water from its body and you can see it dehydrate in front of you. Like a toothpaste being emptied, it vomits blood from both ends. Your blood. But the problem with this method is once the leech is off, the salt enters the wound and it burns like a motherfucker.”

“So what’s the second method?”

“The second, is tobacco.”

“You put tobacco on the leech?”

“Nah. You light a mound of tobacco in a tent and let the smoke fill up. Then you strip to your birthday suit and walk in. The leeches can’t handle the nicotine, I guess. They’ll simply let go and start crawling as far from the smoke as possible. So you’ll eventually see a dozen bloodsuckers trying to escape a gas chamber making a trail of blood towards the exit. Your blood.”

“I assume there’s a point to the leeches story too?”

“The point is, if you want to get rid of an annoying bloodsucker. Light a cigarette.”

Click.

Lovetango.

In my soul,

Send a shiver.

Give your love,

And I'll deliver.

From the heavens,

To hell below.

Lead the way,

And I will follow.

All you need,

Is to say the word.

And I promise,

You will be heard.

Just play with me.

Lose yourself,

Just stay with me.

Hear me pray,

Just lay with me.

Here's you chance,

Run away with me.

We are young,

With time to save.

Give me a sign,

And I'll misbehave.

Don't you think,

About who to trust.

Break your shell,

Give in to lust.

Bring your lips,

Close to mine.

Don't you worry about,

Crossing the line.

Just play with me.

Lose yourself,

Just stay with me.

Hear me pray,

Just lay with me.

Here's you chance,

Run away with me.

Down my spine,

I feel a quiver.

This is the time,

It's now or never.

You know this dance,

It takes two to sin.

Lose your mind,

Now let's begin.

Just play with me.
Here's you chance,

Come play with me.

(Happy) Birthday.

I'm only 23 for,
Another day at the most.
I'm feeling crazy.
And I think that,
You need to clear the coast.

I've spent 2 years,
Dancing.
To the tunes she used to play.

Now it's my turn,
It's my chance.
To live it my own way.

So why don't you take me,
On a ride through wonderland.
Why won't you lend,
Lend me a hand?

I wanna go.
Get this out of my system.
Before I get old,
Too old for this.
I wanna go.
Explore your mystery,
I think I'm old,
Just old enough.

You've heard all my stories,
Of days long ago.

I've told you my secrets,
There's little,
That I think you don't know.

It's only fair that,
You show me.
The world I want to see.

And I promise,
You'll be happy.
As long as you're with me.

So come let me take you,
On a trip through wonderland.
All you need to do,
Is hold my hand.

So we can go,
Get this out of our system.
Before we get old,
Older than this.
I'm sure we can go,
Explore this mystery.
I think we're old,
Or just old enough.

Wrath.

He tried to smoke away his pain,
And burn away his tears.
Held the glass in a mottled fist,
To somehow drown his fears.

He swore he wouldn’t go,
Till the song was sung.
Till the story had been told,
And the bell was rung.

If only he’d been smarter,
She’d still be there.
Instead of broken glass,
He’d feel her golden hair.

But the time has passed on,
And the book is writ.
The shrouded hand of fate,
Has been venomously bit.

On a silent summer day,
He can still recall.
When the wind was still warm,
As the leaves began fall.

As the sun found the horizon,
He’d found her arms.
In the midst of a storm,
She was an island of calm.

But he was arrogant and a fool,
As time would soon show.
When with the touch of a gun,
Her blood began to flow.

It wasn’t he who pulled the trigger,
He’d scream to the world.
It wasn’t her pleading cry,
That they had heard.

He claimed he did not do it,
He was an innocent man.
Even though they found her blood,
On his shirt and hands.

Those Men of God had judged him,
As the foulest of men.

They’d cast their blame upon him,
Time and again.

So he’d cradled sweet revenge,
Like the glass in his palms.
He’d waited time and again,
For the pain to pass.

But tonight was a darker night,
It was a time to prey.
Those who had judged him,
Would now have to pay.

He felt the familiar weight,
Of wood and cast lead.
He went on to cleanse the land,
With the purest dread.

Today he transcends the man,
As he walks his chosen path.
He embodies the seventh sin,
He becomes Wrath.

Note: This work happens to be connected to The Killer, which I wrote a while back. It's a prequel of sorts, if they even exist in poetry.

The Joker in the pack.

There are striking similarities between being a Joker in the 52 and one in real life.

It goes far deeper than just being a humour-monger and the centre of excitement. Like they say, there's a face I wear behind my grin. I prefer to think about it this way; the joker can be whatever he wants in a game of cards. In life, I much prefer the fun of keeping people guessing than being strapped down as one 'type'. Then, there's also the fact that there are only 2 jokers but 4 of every other card, which gives me a misplaced sense of uniqueness.

Add to that the fact that sometimes the joker is the most coveted and at other times he's completely excluded. This cruel twist of fate applies in real life with incredible accuracy and it's something that adds a touch of excitement to every tomorrow. Never knowing at what point in the hierarchy I stand makes me constantly push myself to move higher up in the scheme of things. All the while being the crazy fuck that the Joker is supposed to be.

Being the joker however, comes at a steep price. The constant clowning and unending need to stand apart begins to wear thin and if the façade cracks for even a moment, it all comes undone. So, despite being the apparent extrovert the Joker is the ultimate recluse who reveals himself only to a chosen few, if any.
It's a brilliant ruse that takes up an immense amount of exertion, but I've realized that if you constantly smile for no apparent reason that smile becomes a part of you. It makes you treasure moments that would otherwise pass you by and it gives you a sense of freedom and fuck-it-all that few have the privilege to experience.

So, in conclusion, I've realized that I thrive in ridicule and I enjoy keeping people guessing at exactly what I'm up to. It also feeds that insatiable urge within me to make people judge me in the first go, so that I can shatter that illusion later on.

Now whether the Joker comes out of on top in this game, we'll have to wait and see.

Whiskey dreams.

I've been getting high,

To keep these feelings down.

My head in the sky,

My knees on the ground.

In the arms of a stranger,

I've found myself alone.

Far from her eyes so tender,

Forgotten and gone.

Now I'm so tired,

That I think I'm dying.

I'm so worn out,

Because I keep on trying.

I hope this weariness,

Gets the better of me.

The eternal sleep takes over,

And I can lay restfully.

When I was younger,

I was afraid.

Of falling in love,

And being unmade.

But now I'm older,

And I see what happens.

When chances are taken,

And your heart is open.

Now I'm so tired,

When my heart has been broken.

A stranger devil,

Has been awoken.

I hope this demon,

Gets the better of me.

I close my eyes,

And die peacefully.

The days grow darker,

And the nights they scream.

Through a smoke-filled mirror,

And my last whiskey dream.

In the midst of this sickness,

I will now be awake.

Time to fight the weakness,

There's new chances to take.

Now I'm so tired,

I grow weary of crying.

I'm taking the chances,

Or I'll die trying.

I won't let a broken heart,

Get the better of me.

I'll shed my old skin,

And find who I can be.

Discoveries.

I knew we'd lost it,
For a long time.

Maybe that's why,
I feel fine.

I'm sure there's nothing wrong,
With me.

I feel as happy,
As I could be.

I found my life,
But lost my love.
I don't care what I've become.
I found my life,
But lost my love.
I feel it's only just begun.

There's no emotions,
Where I come from.

Just illusions,
And a sad song.

I think they have a name,
For this feeling.

But I forget,
Because it's fleeting.

I found my life,
But lost my love.
I don't care what I've become.
I found my life,
But lost my love.
I feel it's only just begun.