A Letter to Tatiana Yakoleva

In the caresses of lips
or hands
in the tremblings of bodies
near and dear to me
the red colour
of my motherland
must also
burning be.

I dislike
the love
that Paris boasts
of females one adorns
with silks and fashions
who stretch out dreamily
saying:
"u es beau!
with a bitch’s
animal passion.

You alone
equal me in height
stand now beside me
brow to brow
and about that
oh so important night
let’s talk
like human beings now.

Five p.m.
and since that time
let people
of the dreaming pines
depopulate
the inhabited city..
I hear only
argumentative whines
of trains
for Barcelona quitting.

On the heaven’s black
lightning acts
thunder
tamed
in the drama of heaven.
That’s not thunder,
simply the fact –
of jealousy
moving mountains even.

Don’t believe the raw stuff
stupid words and idle.
Don’t be frightened
by these reelings.
I’ll tame
I’ll bridle
gentry-offsprung
feelings.
Passion’s measles
scabs only leave
but happiness’s
unwitherable ever.

I’ll be long
I’ll be brief
talking only in poetry’s fever.
Enough
of jealousy
wives
tears
Eyelids swell
fittingly I weave.

I’m not myself
but I’m jealous, dear
of Soviet Russia
even.
I saw on shoulders
rags and tatters,
TB
licked them
with a sighing cough.
We’re not to blame,
so what’s the matter?
A hundred million
were badly off.
We can only rectify
a few
for such a gentle sport.

We’re needed in Moscow,
me and you,
there’re not enough
of our long-legged sort.
But with those legs
you won’t be passing
through snow
and typhoid-typhoons.
Here they give them
for caressing
at banquets
for oil-tycoons.
You furrow your forehead
don’t be afraid
eye-brow arcs straighten to bands.
Come to me so
or in the cradle
of my great
big
clumsy hands.


You don’t want to?
You’ll stay behind and winter there?
Well that insult
to the general account
is gathered.
Just the same
sometime or other
I’ll take you dear
from Paris
single
or together.

Suggested Read : Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky

Alice Alice !

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.

"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."

"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.

"You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."

Alice didn't think that proved it at all: however she went on. "And how do you know that you're mad?"

"To begin with," said the Cat, "a dog's not mad. You grant that?"

"I suppose so," said Alice

"Well, then, " the Cat went on, "you see a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad."

"... thought Alice, and she went on. "Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"

"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.

"I don't much care where –" said Alice.

"Then it doesn't matter which way you go," said the Cat.

"– so long as I get somewhere," Alice added as an explanation.

"Oh, you're sure to do that," said the Cat, "if you only walk long enough."

Fight Club

Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off

Suggested Script: Fight Club

1984

It was at night that they came for you, always at night. The proper thing was to kill yourself before they got you. Undoubtedly some people did so. But it needed desperate courage to kill yourself in a world where firearms, or any quick and certain poison, were completely unprocurable. He thought with a kind of astonishment of the biological uselessness of pain and fear, the treachery of the human body which always freezes into inertia at exactly the moment when a special effort is needed. It struck him that in moments of crisis one is never fighting against an external enemy, but always against one's own body.

Suggested Read : George Orwell, 1984

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall

Elephant and ant were petty ego clashing...
Our same old elephant and ant.
Rex the Tyrannosaurus, charged from behind the bushes
and crushed the two mortals in one Jurassic second
Animal media calls it a natural disaster

*******************************

In Sixteen Hundred and Forty-Eight
When England suffered the pains of state
The Roundheads lay siege to Colchester town
Where the King's men still fought for the crown
There One-Eyed Thompson stood on the wall
A gunner of deadliest aim of all
From St. Mary's Tower his cannon he fired
Humpty-Dumpty was its name...

*******************************

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king's horses and all the king's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again.

Iruvar

In case you don't know tamil, there are subtitles. In case you know, there are subtitles. Even tamilians would need subtitles to make sense of Iruvar. The scene, the script,the background score and the way the camera moves is genuinely admirable. The below scene is considered to be one of the best in Indian cinema *by some*. Scene is explained here. Vairamuthu, Santosh Sivan, A R Rahman, Mohanlal and Mani Ratnam at their best.

The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Suggested Read : William Butler Yeats

and a great song video to go with, The End by Doors (thanks to Alex)