Get Original

A shiny chalice, filled to neck.
Gleaming –golden,liquid unknown.
Of all pours in, concord to masses,
A stinking mix, of swill and heck.

Them talk so full of banal,
Their words cliché, response so anal.
Their wisdom –borrowed, from the wise.
their passions –grow, with no device.

dabbles with -a paintbrush, a sports, a journal,
Disparity in-good soul & materialistic infernal.
them smile & sync, to please the power,
they mould to mint ,the cheese of hour.

Persona militates ,our divine aura,
Dilettantism contaminates , artistic fora.
Put price tags on things to value,
Those sycophants, bend down to sell you.

I rather keep their kind in mind,
I rather have them did their time,
I would have warned, If I were there,
I see you baffled, to (their) rusted-flair.

Of all things done, to social proofing.
Their life on showcase, open to goofing.
Why I must stall, my frivolous banter,
Un-mask-their plain , pathetic-self.
Must truly warn, like a social mentor.
to save originale of this cancer.

BY: vishu mishra

get original

get original


Meretricious roads

june 30,2012,01:00am

As I could no more unlisten to them,
As the moments no more pass unsilenty,
Beyond all the usher, that pushes me to gloom.
Beyond all the blur, that consummate & consume..
As slowly and slowly it wither me inside.
As more and more I decide to let by.
I could walk,but this aberration & chaos blinds me.
Every lonely step within lost but finds me,
To your meretricious roads I could no more walk;but walk away.
Yet but meticulous,I dissociate to find the.
Like the yesterdays that walked me to same roads,
Were brighter,were charmer,would lead to your home.
And there you would wait ,time –long time ;but untimely,
I could no more walk to the same ends,but blindly.

If a ribbon could wrap a gift like perfect,
I could muster my will to let unravel still;yet musnt be.
all those things that made moments perfect,
Could open it otherwise,against unwilling will.
And as it opens & like a ribboned road,
And all leads to angels but one,
Yet I choose the one that withers me inside,
Yet I blindly choose,to walk on it.
And if all the presents could unravel perfect,
One would lead to the angel’s road.
And all those voices I could not reply.
But I could loose more footsteps & timely.
I could no more walk unsilenty,
I could no more usher to your meretricious roads.

by:vishu mishra
blog alias:captnjacksparw