Reasons...

writing a title for my blog was tough, more so when i was forced to create one within a very short deadline. i titled it as "blog? a mirror or pandora's box". Reason? It being a repurcussion of the question in my mind. until the end i wasn't very sure as to why i am doin it. the skepticism was as to how would the readers percieve me as?
i believe the fear's gone now. Reason? no one reads it. only 46 people have visited my blog. :-(

i wonder if they will ever return.

I have published a few poems of mine on the blog. Reason? i would lik to share my feelings with everywho reads it. poetry is one form of writin where i want to improve at. i would like to recieve some criticism. i have had duels- 'in phrase' with my friend where i won hands down. The Reasons for the feud? -my form of writing poems. i follow the orthodox, rhyme-scheme style where as he considers poems to be a more contemporary form of expressing things haphhazardly . i do not deny him of the right/freedom of speech but in that case, wat's poetic abt those poems?
Some fragments of the duel are:

I:

"Dude poems need reforms,

Follow some poetical norms,

only then ther'll be

some turbulent storms."

(i'd also asked him to become friends with a friend of mine)

Him:

"I don like committed girls,

They are already fused birds,

they dont need to be kissed ,

And they neither can be fixed.

who needs such storms,

when reforms initially are deforms."

I:

"Since my mate,

u began a bit late;

poetry though innate

dont assign it to fate.

it needs to be brief,

create mischief,

deadman's grief,

an autumn's leaf."

(By now my friend has started to surrender.)

Him:

"But i will, surely follow,

a few poetical norms,

to earn your turbulent storms,

you are elder, my brother,

i agree, u started early

and i repect your feelings,

have faith tremendous in your dealings,

my love you have won,

however i tried too, to hit a ton.

dont be happy you have CRUIRED,

Next time you are aught to lose."

I:

"CRUIRED's no word,

a strange bird,

i fail to see,

and my victory is but a drop in the sea.

I want you to win each time,

but make sure your lines rhyme,

Dude i say,

This game lets play!"

Him:

"That was cruised my dear,

indeed this game's cool, lets bear.

am being tortured by Mrs. Psychotherapist

Pain is more than when i visit a dentist.

Rhyming i guess i am good in,

you could better stop scratching,

for mistakes and lying.

no law says poems need rhymes,

you should work on this bit.

take a candle and light your wit."

I:

"Well, my style is different than yours,

Its tragic!

If a poem doesn't rhyme,

its mere a sentence not magic!

what fun it is being so straight,

but play with words of substantial weight."

(These last lines reveal the kind of person i am.)

beguiling speculation.....

i can no longer live in speculation
over what triggers such generosity?
whether you return my admiration,
or this ecstasy happens to be my fallacy.

for it was affection that I'd craved.,
when i received your bliss full love,
priceless moments i wanted saved,
the "acts" of what, is mentioned above.

i don't deserve what is not mine,
love kindness praise or your hand.
as delicate as dew on the pine,
is our relation in this forbidden land.

would ours too be a famous story.,
recalled by the generations?
or are we living it already,
in lieu of our separation. speculation.. speculation...

Psychedellic: Not just a state of mind..

After many years, i just now have risen up to realize wher do i derive my thinking from and at that with whom does my phiosophy match? The revelation tells me that I am not alone and makes my ideology more vivid and clear. It is a serendipity (that being my favourite word) that while searching on "Psychedelic" on youtube and wiki, I happened to reach BEATNIKS and Jack Kerouac. Over there i read the following lines:

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow Roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars, and in the middle, you see the blue center-light pop, and everybody goes ahh..."from On the Road

Wat made me feel special and one among the mavericks was the Hippie code: "Do your own thing, wherever you have to do it and whenever you want. Drop out. Leave society as you have known it. Leave it utterly. Blow the mind of every straight person you can reach. Turn them on, if not to drugs, then to beauty, love, honesty, fun."

I am aware that ideologies keep changing; maybe I would not feel the same way afer a few years, but Psychedellia happens to be my state of mind at this moment.

I realize: Life is beautiful.. (in the Psychedelic land) .