One Night Sit

The sky pours
my anxiety sours
I have so many chores
left to do in my writing course.

Like I am on the deadline
Hoping everything will be fine
the mind has become a landmine
the oasis of ideas is hit by a famine.

I have a small coffee sachet
to kill my sleep like a machete 
as my thoughts burn like an omelet
as the clock plays a Russian roulette.

 
I had given up thrice
like a scared puny mice
made me feel not very nice
hoping the deadline adds some spice. 

As my ideas go nuts 
I munch on boiled peanuts
Fighting my mind's if and buts
As discomfort wriggles in my guts.

It is 3 AM and I am still awake
as strings with words, I try to make
Procrastination is always a mistake
I have this weird sense of being a fake.

I slurp on my dried lips
reaching for the pack of chips
Wishing I had some hummus dips
As my mind ambushes me with quips.

Concentrate on my tasks, I must
Watching an online tour seemed just 
to ensure my plan doesn't kiss the dust
but my mind fiercely personifies wanderlust. 

I fall asleep beside my thought stream
When In my head I heard a silent scream
only to be woken up by an alarm in my dream
And my blank screen taunting me with a gleam.

Inevitable Consciousness

Each and every waking moment , he burns
burns - in the fire that he lit 
lit by the spark of his hopes
hopes that get extinguished every night


Night - that lonely , dark place
place which he loves and fears the most
most of his time is spent in thinking
thinking of those unexperienced memories


Memories that haunt endlessly
endlessly knocking at his mind
mind mystified by signs
signs of the inevitable


Inevitable - that's what it always was
was never in his reach
reach was only in his dreams
dreams which ignite desire


Desire - the ultimate cause of his pain
pain which has become his symbiote
symbiote for his each moment
moment which he wants to forget


Forget those unworthy thoughts
thoughts which erode his senses
senses which have become numb
numb by his own actions


Actions which were futile 
futile like his words
words which are his feelings
feelings, which continuously crumble


Crumble like pieces of paper
paper which is torn into pieces
pieces which form the puzzle
the puzzle of his heart


Heart - he realizes is just an organ
organ relentlessly keeping him alive
alive to go through this endless loop
loop running each and every waking moment.

Electric Deficiency

As I get lost in this darkness,
Craving for that fondness.

Without the guidance of the light,
Dwindling all hopes out of sight.

Living is so hard without electricity,
Invoking so much of disgust and pity.

Addicted to the plethora of electric goods,
Without them, like a kid lost in woods.

No internet , No music , No 'air' ,
Just lying on the bed with a blank stare.

In this period of power-cuts ,
Getting lost in the maze of ifs and buts.