Tell Me No More of Enchanted Days

X-ray report It's a shield That's difficult to break. Tell me if you see mine, With your naked eyes. No longer hidden behind glasses. I can see behind Your coconut wall, Even if you despise And admire me for My X-ray vision. For my pretending To not understand Your fake disguise Of not admiting What you see When you look At my scattered bones And you decide to Prefer the body I show To the world and you. Designed to show that it needs Only you. When it wants To be seen by the whole world. But understood only by you.

Boomerang Away you go, following your dream. The rider into the sunset. In search of new adventures, In search of a young bride. Leaving behind the village. Always yours but not what you call home. The village knows, You'll come back In new clothes In new emotions. Always, you'll come back To the quiet days Of quiet lives Of past loves You never acknowledged, But will when the ferocious night sets in And you're all alone In a forest far away.

Haiku Day after day, I'm keeping it inside. Playing dumb dancer, in front of a deaf king.

Enying Alice Catch me if I fall, You always do for a while, You always say you're there, For me, the girl feeling sorry for herself. And everytime I believe you And let myself free fall Deeper and deeper Endlessly Like Alice down the rabbit hole On the walls of the pit, I see you sometimes. Once when you smiled On the stairs, Praying I would look at you. But I didn't. And when I did, you made it so beautifully safe For a little girl To fall down a hole. By never appearing again. The cushioned thud And the endless search For the rabbit who runs Again and again. When all poor Alice wants Is to talk to him once. And then what happens to Alice? And then what happens to me? She wakes up And believes the rabbit was a dream. I wake up And still see you, talk to you. Knowing your not a dream. Just an illusion I can never catch, Even when I fall. Even when I land.

There's Something Missing I was just watching the 'Wizard of Oz' the other night. It's a book that has stayed with me since I was seven years old. Once, long back on a rainy night at a place we used to call the 'Stage' (it was a run-down cement block with a back arch that was used for school annual day skits and other things that are connected to young people), that my sister first told me the story of Dorothy and her magic shoes. Then I read it, and went on to read the sequels, 'Ozma of Oz, The Magic of Oz'.. and finally watched the film. It was nothing like the book. It was garrish with fake sets, but I still loved it. I wanted to go back to my childhood, so I bought the CD and watched it again. I still loved it, but as adults we see different things, and every story becomes a life metaphor. My favourite character was always the Scarecrow. He was simple, clumsy and pure hearted. As I watched the film, I realised that I was like Dorothy, lost, confused