Writing

  • December 2019
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  • Words: 2,349
  • Pages: 12
writing

poetry

Writing The Revolutionary I’m waiting, waiting, for the sun For the world and everyone I’m trying, trying, to unwind From the voices in my mind I’m breaking, breaking, breaking through That’s all fine, but where to? I’m crying, crying, tears away For a cause at the end of day Time to break down the system! Time to let all feelings loose; Give birth to maggots within them! Merge into the deadening hues

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I’m sighing, sighing, once again Sighing, sighing, but in vain Doing, stopping, laughing, crying Failing, passing, never dying Bourgeoisie breathing down my brain Sunshine going down the drain You can’t stop me, let me be Unlock doors, set me free

Time to break down the system! Time to let all feelings loose; Give birth to maggots within them! Merge into the deadening hues It’s time to get out on the road I’m the virus you’ll download I am free and freely flying These wings are real, there’s no denying I am far from guilt and fault I’m the blood in the revolt I will set your freedom free For I am a revolutionary Time to break down the system! Time to let all feelings loose; Give birth to maggots within them! Merge into the deadening hues!

Writing

poetry

Hawk

Overhead the hawk: Talons red and fierce; Tiger of the skies, Eyes made to pierce. Scouring every cloud, Symbol of its pride; And through the pouring rain: Soft and gentle glide. Seeker of the light; In the breast of mountains, born; Crying out in joy, Every waking dawn Promise me your life; Make my head unwind; And spreading your great wings, Fly into my mind.

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composition

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Audience and Cast

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To wander into endless dreams of laughter and inebriation, faraway lands and queens with guitars, grotesque mathematics teachers and horrendous exams, walks through twilight alleys and twitching in bed, lack of thought and overabundance of thought, a blood red swirling wave in an eternal blood red ocean with a pale grey sky above, waiting, watching, judging, listening --- and never even once speaking or making a comment, leaving one in perpetual suspense, mind screaming out and body aching all over for some kind of hopeful floating answer that never existed, some kind of clue or sign or at least an assuring voice that would whisper in my ear, “relax, everything is fine, everything is good.” The blood red sea rose in strangled curls, pulling me down, breaking me away from touching the pale grey sky---and I did not offer resistance. I will never offer resistance. I will submit, and trip on the moment, this very infinite moment for ever and ever. The universe is a moving picture, and I am sick and tired of being either a spectator or an actor. All that is happening around me and inside my head: talks of love and happiness, dead relatives, caught red-handed, herb and hiding, guilt and passion, anger and apathy, sickness and sobriety, freedom and fallacy, shock and surprise, friends and foes, pathetic city concerts and borrowed text-books---in the end,  they don’t matter. I am stuck and struggling in the land of the Living Dead, and it is time I let go, wake up and learn to be both Audience and Cast.

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composition

Classroom. For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth - I have neither intelligence nor the power of vocabulary - Action - I do not know what gestures to make when I deliver a speech - Utterance - meaning eloquence - Nor the power of speech - Nor rhetoric: r-h-e-t-o-r-i-c - To stir. To arouse... I should be taking down notes. He’ll catch me again. Fuck me up.  There’s this dull feeling inside my mind that I don’t really care at the moment. I know I’d care about it later when I’m giving my exams. I know I’m screwing with myself and my promotion. But, right now, I just can’t give a damn.  ...I only speak right on - I only speak straight from my heart. I only speak what I know. - If I was Brutus - If I had the eloquence. If I could speak like Brutus...If I was Brutus, and if Brutus was Anthony, Brutus, being a better orator, would’ve been able to stir up your spirits, make every wound on Caesar’s body speak out so that even the stones - inanimate objects- that lie all over Rome would rise in rebellion against Brutus and Cassius. We will mutiny... Words form colourful blurs and pass me in mocking tunes. I delve deeper into confusion. My mind - right now a vibrant and free electron left to join any atom it pleases to in an atomless world - wanders off into the foremost pocket of my bag. Cassete player. ...We will rebel. We will burn the house of Brutus - 1st citizen. I want you all to do something. Look at line 50. In line 50 the 1st citizen said “let’s bring him triumphantly to his house.” See how easily his mind has changed? -  Why, friends, you got to do you know not what - You are going to do something but you are not aware of what you are going to do...

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composition

Play. Stop. Rewind. Play. Stop. Fast forward. Play. Stop. Rewind. Play. Riders on the storm Riders on the storm Into this house we’re born Into this world we’re thrown Like a dog without a bone and an actor out on loan Riders on the storm... ...’Wherein-’ What has Caesar done for you that you should love him so much? Alas, unfortunately, you do not know. You have forgotten the will! To every Roman citizen, Caesar gives - To every noble man - To every individual - 75 drachmas! There’s a killer on the road His brain is squirming like a toad Take a long holiday... I could not muffle his voice with the music. But I had to continue. I had to open doors and let myself go. I had to trip. ...Let your children play If you give this man a ride sweet family will die Killer on the road Yeah His voice cut into my brain again. ...this is Shakespeare’s mistake. Roman coins were called Denarius. Second citizen - oh, what a noble man he is! Antony -Moreover, he has left you all his walks - he has given you, or donated to you all the private places where he

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composition

used to walk. His private altars - gardens... Stop. Fast forward. Play. This is the end Beautiful friend This is the end My only friend  The end Of our elaborate plans, the end Of everything that stands, the end... I sighed. This song takes me to a whole new level. It reminds me of everything and the end of everything that mattered. The end of innocence. ...On this side of Tiber: that is Rome. And for your heirs - your children forever! All these are now pleasure grounds for common people. Here was a Caesar - this was a real Caesar. Where can you find another consul like him? Can you picture what will be So limitless and free Desperately in need Of some stranger’s hand In a desperate land... the holy place was the Forum - Centre for all social, religious and business purposes... I looked around. Everyone seemed engrossed, stuck. They listened intently. All I heard was an odd mixture of fired speeches and mystic words. And I tripped, and everything was alright.

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composition

..And with the brands - burning logs of wood - taken from the funeral pyre. They will set fire to the traitor’s mansions... Lost in a Roman wilderness of pain And all the children are insane All the children are insane Waiting for the summer rain, yeah... Pull down the benches! Pull down the forms! Windows! Anything! The killer awoke before dawn... These citizens are in a frenzy; they’ve been inspired by Antony, they want to kill the conspirators - every single one of them. He put his boots on He took a face From the ancient gallery  And he walked on down the hall They were like an angry mob, ready to lash out at anybody.  He went into the room where his sister lived and Then he... Paid a visit to his brother and Then he... He walked on down the hall and... And he came to a door And he looked inside... Exuent Citizens, with the body.

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Father? yes son. I want to kill you. Mother?  Now let it work: Mischief- Ante - you are born. take whatever path that suits you! Octavius has come to Caesar’s palace. And there I shall visit him. He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry, and in this mood will give us anything. This is the end Beautiful friend This is the end My only friend The end It hurts to set you free Don’t you ever follow me The end of laughter and soft lies The end of nights we tried to die... And how I have influenced them With my speech I do beseech To go against the murderers. This is the end

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composition

The World Is Shrinking! Once upon a time, the world was full of volcanoes and ferocious oceans, and it was big enough for them all. Billions of years later, life came on earth, and the world was big enough for life. Soon, psilophytes, the first land plants, grew in and around the water margins of our planet, and the world was big enough for these psilophytes. As time slowly graduated, giant clubmosses and seed-ferns flourished, and for them too, the world was big enough. Insects and amphibians followed the giant clubmosses and seed-ferns, and the world, again, was big enough to hold the insects and amphibians. After the insects, enormous diplodocuses, brontosauruses, tyrannosauruses, allosauruses and much smaller raptors and other dinosaurs appeared. Flying reptiles scoured the skies. Vast areas of land were covered by thick, green conifer forests, and the world was big enough for all of these curious things. Within a short time plants with beautiful flowers emerged, and the world was big enough. After the mighty dinosaurs died out, deltatheridiums, zalambdalesteses, ptiloduses, meniscotheriums, prodiacodons and other queer-named mammals quickly took over, and the world, once again, was big enough. By this time the ancestors of our oaks, pines and firs began to grow, and the world, amazingly, was big enough. It was not long before apes appeared, and soon enough they evolved into human beings. And for all these incredible things, the world was big enough. As time flowed by, human beings began to learn to use objects and animals around them, and they built shelters, befriended animals and kept them as pets in those shelters that they built. Tribes were formed, and some men went to live in the valleys, some in the hills, and some in different lands altogether. But all this

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didn’t matter, because the world was still big enough. As civilisation took hold of human beings, they built villages, and these villages grew bigger and pretty soon became towns, and towns became cities. They cut forests to make place for more homes and farmland. All these changes in more than a thousand years, and the world still remained big enough. From stones men turned to metal, and from metals to plastic. And still, the world was big enough.As people multiplied, they cut down more and more trees, for the sake of space. But there were still a lot of forests left, so that didn’t matter much, and the world was big enough. Man invented new things: for transport, communication, comfort and luxury. The more things he built, he was inclined to build more, to make life easier. Shops of different varieties of edible and inedible objects flourished, and the difference between the rich and the poor seemed to deepen. Mobile phones, television, radios, cars, compact disc players, electrical tin openers, washing machines and other odd inventions became increasingly popular. Whether people really needed them did not matter; they were there, and those who could afford them, bought them. As more and more devices and odd equipments were sold, more and more companies came up and more and more factories were built. The sky became a shade of grey and the forests quickly shrank.But all this was fine, because, after all, the world was still big enough. Soon the number of people in the world became 2 billion, and in almost no time 10 billion. And it went on increasing.

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One day, in a remote forest somewhere in South America, the head of a small tribe was visited by a few men in impressive tuxedos. They told him that he and his people had to move. Taken by surprise, the head of the tribe asked the

Writing

composition

reason why. The men shrugged, and said that they’re going to turn the forest into another city.

Writing

“What about the animals? What about my people? Where do we go?” “I’m sorry, but the world is shrinking, and there’s nothing you can do. You have to move.” The headman sighed, and a tear trickled down his old face. Silently he thought about how in ancient times his gods and goddesses created enormous creatures and how for those creatures, the world was certainly large enough. It was hard for him to understand how the world was not large enough for humans.The tribe left and eventually ended up as vagabonds in a neighbouring city, and soon they died of starvation and apathy from the people in the city. The animals in the forest were killed when it was cleared away. The clearing was merged with a neighbouring city and factories were built around it. Where the peaceful tribe had once been, there stood a shining, modern, glossy building with a plastic sign on top of the glass door reading “McDonald’s.”

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