Ma Belle

There was this moon one night and lonely I was.
I started talking with her and with the lay lost my heart.
She was all so lonely up in the sky.
Oh all so beautiful and so high.
As I heard the waves soothe me, I spoke.
She told me about her nights and of the lover's she's had.
But the world never held her close for she set everyday.
Her, she had had no choice.

I fell in love. We shared the night.
I begged her not to go, but go she did.
I raved by the day and I was back when she was up.
She was back, but she was with another man.
That day I felt the salt of the seas in my eyes.
There, I had a hand on my shoulder and I never turned back.

I was a bloody loner, and that was all I thought I had.
The sun came up.
The hand took me back. I still could face no sun and by the eve I was back.
To my cave, to those salty sands. There I looked up the moon, but there she was.
My belle with brown eyes, the lady with her hand.
She sat beside me and listened to all I had.
The mad words of hurt and the fey moods of my heart.
She nursed me back to life, the world of sounds which had me scarred.
Scared I slept on her shoulders and cried out my heart.

Today she is at her fork and runs very scared.
She feels not the shadow for she sees not the past.
Betrayed she has been, ma belle is scared.
She feels not my hand, hears not my speak.
She fears the dark shadowy night,
after with her sun, she has been.
The days were her element, the night scares her within.
The night is my handle, its treacheries I have seen.

Without her sun, she thinks there be no life, for farther she cannot see.
My belle is always me.
The sun and the moon may always win.
All I have is her and always she will have me.
Let the new worlds come, let the new worlds go.

Life in a stone is but a rare thing.
A stone can always be a stone, but a shade it never will be.
With life it lives , and with its life it will always be.
The stones of this world may he stones, this stone will never be.
For this stone has seen love and forever it will be.

Windows

And a little boy dreams,
Afraid of the wide world without.
The little window is but so large.
Rough the others play,
With no quarter to give,
Memories do often fade,
But scant do they forgive!
Those little others,
Together they always have been!
The nature of the cruel, they have seen.
These little games they play,
The littlest feels not the need.
But for a little dust on his knees,
He would pay this price, even with his dreams.

That little window was never so large,
But for his friend within,
A friend he cannot lose,
The one he cannot hide within.

Three lines to tomorrow

This day I rewind the old worn tapes,
I feel the music we had missed.

This day I read from old torn pages,
I feel the love it had within.

This day I write my own blue song,
I feel the blood in my feet.

(In continuation to Three Lines To heaven)

Tales

With the dew, the song did start,

With the thaw, the song did grow,

In all hearts that warmed,

But them, the flints, smile slow!

Them that the waves wearied,

With time, still does the blood flow.

The red still be in those veins,

Those that are but etched deep.

Of all the water that has passed over,

Them, the bards do not sleep.

That sky of those days, be that blue,

These mirrors veil, time tells true.

Them be but the tales of a winter,

Be but flighty whispers this spring!

Those tales that the old bards told,

Newer tunes do bolder hearts bring.

The old chapters been buried now,

Old love, old hearts loosely sold.

Voices of reason for shiny toys,

Flights of reason for lovers bold.

Oh that we would love and forget,

For forget we do to love again.

Those deeds be done, be tales now,

To be buried, forgotten and laid low.

For the pages still be and 

Ink there is to fill!

We will start a new story,

Sing a new song, we will!

For we are but men, in images of gods,

Them we built, them the fickle lot.

A grand story always ends in circles,

Them, those tales will always be.

Those tales have always been old,

Old tales of newer days, will always be!

(PS: Why do our tales never change! )

On a sister

For every errant thought,
For every smile she has bought.
For every promise I have broken,
For every dream she has lost.
I will count my blessings!

For every tantrum thrown,

For every moment she has lost,

For every hiatus taken,

For every tear, dearly bought.

I will count my blessings!

For every beastly hug,
For every missed call,
For all the days I have missed,
For all the rebuke and censure.
I will count my blessings.

For every habit broken,
For every path we've trod,
For every day you have bought,
For all the love, never sought.
I will count my blessings.

Gathering Sand

There are the former's and the latter,
Blinding hate and the rain kissed banter!
Oh what beauty we had! 

We had days in the rain kissed tropics,
When they had nights in the cold cold rain. 
The grasses still be green,
This day they still do haunt!

What the winds missed, the rains killed!
These mildewed days, the sun has missed!
The way to being me, being no more. 
The less we lose, the more we want.

Every speck of sand , each one. 
Loss is not just what one loses, 
But what one has already. 
That what is broken may someday mend,
That what was lost someday gained.
Them that were gone, will be back,
Those forgotten, will be engraved in dark!

But of those that these hands held!
How does one gather the sands together?

Gods of flesh

For while these graves last so long,
A square inch of earth is not to be.
Let the dead burn, for the old ways,
A pound of flesh, and let me be.

Words of love do not a song make,
Nor those of hate, a ballad beget.
Sad are those days a god was made,
Of human flesh, water and holy bread.

Then we were men and today we are,
Red it has been and always will be,
The color of blood always so cheap
And so there is god, always will be.

Of sons and prophets, and earthen lay,
Of masks and words, and another day.
In blood have me a future bought,
And blood will the price we will pay.

Close the doors of your heaven,
For life at the doors of hell,
Here on earth, we live our lives,
Here on earth, our god's dwell.

Bro's Before Ho's

(Written way back. Reposting coz many of the bro's have still to implement this. Ladies do not feel bad about this as this is not intended to be disrespectful to you. Intended to be disrespectful to the Bro's ...)
So often has the article one been quoted in the travails of history than I care to think about.If you have any doubts then you can enlighten yourself by reading the Bro’s code.

St. Barnabas Stinson said so and there ain’t a exception to the universal rule.As has been seen so often lately, the article one has been loosely interpreted and thus I think a few clarifications have to be added.

1. At no point in a binge drinking night out can a bro leave another bro in the lurch without a cheers. It is considered to be a cardinal sin to leave a bro waiting destitute.
2. At no point during the above said night out a bro is supposed to talk to the ho for more than the time required to empty half a peg or three gulps of beer. The time in waiting for the other bro’s should be suitable compensated by buying the next two rounds of alcohol.
3. The bro with the ho is not supposed to talk about the emotional disposition of other bro’s to the ho. The only exception to the rule is if the ho is a prospective bro and wingman.
4. A bro is allowed to take the side of the ho in case the ho is present. Under no circumstances is the bro allowed to take the ho’s side in case two or more bro’s disagree on the same (in absentia of the ho duh)!
5. On no account is the bro to sideline a bro’s plan that involves multiple bro’s to just be with the ho. This violates article one in the multiple.
6. In case the bro has to go pink for the ho, he is not to expect another bro to recognize him till the course of the pink interval of life has ended. Understanding emotional patches is not the bro’s job. It is our job to get you drunk and get hooked up. 
7. A bro is not supposed to spoil pink. Pink as in the color, so beloved on ho's. Period. (The only exception to the rule being, if the bro is supporting a cause like breast cancer)

PS: the above is meant for the people that are comfortable with the bro's code.In case you find this offending the planet of Venus would welcome you for cuddling.

PPS: Ladies are advised to take the content in moderation and are welcome to call this indivizual a misogynist pig. What ho!