From these Walls of Concrete

Source : Unknown

We could play together,

We could count together,

You hide and I’ll count,

I’ll write on the wall,

Number by number

On those four wall all around me,

I’ll search for you in the sky,

Fall from the sky when I find you,

Like a meteorite,

Burn off your egos,

And come, and free me 

From this concrete blocks of wall.



Am all enough for myself,

Always I am, always will be,

Am just enough to be that beautiful me,

Don’t listen to anyone,

Am just enough for myself.

The Walk – II 

source: Instagram :: @sreejith_jayachandran :: ©

Empty beer bottles.                          

Blue Tees, and that friday

Beach side walk,

I could feel the force of those dark clouds,

Above me, they they hurling,

I hear that small burst,

Here I was and it’s different now.   

It’s okay, I feel the vibration in the shells,

The roar, the golden sound,

Like always she is with me, Adaline.

The sense of shock between our skin,

It’s paralyzing, we smile with that numbness,




The year was 1977, when he was born.
Eighteen years, he lived for non.

He stabbed himself to dead,
on twenty fourth of July, 1995.

Couple of days of sorrow and guilt,
made him breath again as a human,
on twenty sixth of July.

Now, Twenty-one longness of his existence,
The century seemed the same as before.

He is still the same as then.

Like if he traveled back and off time.

When will be the next, into the time ahead,
what lies ahead and hereafter, is a chance.

The fullness of time from the era he travelled from,
widely in a vessel of hope, from time to time and millenniums to come,
he have never found the perfect aeons to live.

In search, he travels decade to decade.
Of his destiny…


Tú yo

Photo by Ruth Thorne-Thomsen – Levitating Man, 1983

The civilisation cramps, the colour fades,

Masturbating my feelings, staring at the horizon

I see him, his eyes, brown and pale,

Starving as young,

Am suffering for no reason,

It’s [just] random lines,

Am addicted,

Cornered, lost,

Pining away,

Am enjoying with people, the present,

Dancing my anger, singing my pain,

Hitting the high notes, stretching my legs,

Tapping to the beats,

I engage my consciousness,

I lock myself in a dark room,

And my conscience hitting the window pans,

The clumsiness in my brain clogs and breaks my fever,

I can’t go with it,

Am sensually intimate with my own body,

I sleep heavy headed,

I drink just water,

[And] am losing my grammar,

Good night!