Why great worrieds??I really dont know if I am slipping into this...and if I am...I dunno if its for the good or the bad...the following scribbles are exactly me..down to the "rags"(my torn denims)..lemme know what you think of them...the words I mean..another blog follows...thanks to Av, swayam and Nomad for reading paperbags...thats where this blog would be if not for the Internet!!
I am Al-Kahira, the conqueror of nonsense and flowers.
I am grateful for my stupidity, admitted easily, yet I am
concerned with specific details of style as I sit here in rags.
By circumstance and not by choice this shrub has blossomed:
by choice and not by circumstance this life has been kept
I made an effort and found stuff to ignore, leave rusty things
I neglect the spectacular and overlook the apparently
important with deliberation.
I’ve waited aeons for the reversal of my interests: Now life
has become the joke and sweetness and hilarity of my own
thoughts have turned into a fascination for me.
No matter what anyone tells you: I do not belong to any
creed or sect, culture or race, nor to any period in history.
My only qualification is the age of my soul: I own three
palaces of quiet pre-dawn moon sound.
Humiliation is my clothing that I wear to sit and bark with the
dogs. I disconnect like dusk and most likely no one will bring
flowers to my grave.
I am ardent without deed and I am information zero,
unimportant iridescent: Grand Palace of Mercy.
Till now I stayed in one place not avoiding you:
now that the traditions are beginning to dissolve, I
put on my wintercoat and walk away.
My contemporaries have declared society to be the central
item and are discussing things of importance as
I am speaking to you now.
As my mother taught me to, I keep to myself a lot.
I am the lover of trees, found worthy of loneliness.
I could be the postman, the milkman, the sick person,
It takes one to recognize one…
I am the unknown dervish.