Josh-Baba's Blog

Beneath the brazen scowl and howl, Did faith discern the whimpering truth Neither the wit of old nor callous youth Could fork the sanity in this prowl The old woman waited still On banks of cracked clay and hill Half of a twisted mind she had For waiting for a lover she never had. Dreams and the dreamer chase the wind An old woman’s tale is a girls dream How do you chase a soulless wind? Water is never still at a rushing stream. The old woman died today Well, the madness died if I must say. But half of her twisted mind she gave To be buried with her lover who was in his grave. Love, Our eternal sanity Where half the mind is gone To love Is to be insane

“Why do all men go to war?” The gun asked the bullet as it came, “It may be for the value of a name, Or the reckless ambition of wit” Men die on the silent road, Of wars they do not understand, There was a funeral of reason, When man first went to war, “Why do all men fall in love? And wet me with that greasy slime”, This was the questions the lip asked the tongue “They are enthused by the recklessness, The constant fading of sanity, Witless encounters of mindless caution, Is it love, could it be, There is a funeral of reason when love leads. Why is uncertainty our biggest fear? Caution deprives us of our time? We spend a lifetime not trying, For the veil that splits between, In the fallow realm, We lie, Unfulfilled, Awry and dry, We buried reason, To be free, I hang on the bitter poles of my own mind, Asking myself, who is insanity? Steps surrounding our peak, We lay fallow, our mountains speak, Courage is a mirror of self deceit, Insanity is ...

Look! There is love. Standing on bended knees, It calls us children, For it is under the fire that we sing. When dusk is mint and scent, Shadows foray in the darkness Briefly we meet, Under mats filled with stories and hope. The moon above But there is no one but us, Under this conversation in space, The moon dimly sets, On eyes that glittered free. Your beautiful moonlight smile We walked in the timid darkness Hands searching for the hearts that came “Carry me” you whispered Away from the familiar daze In my arms, love felt its familiar gaze. Morning was beautiful For it brought the railings To think that in all that war You chose a warrior like me The irony of love Norah I was afraid Of the rising chaos Of my war torn self So I walked away I walked till I felt the wound Of loosing you under a thousand moonlights For you were the one In every way Even if you are the one that got away.