Enter The House Of Stories


I live in a house of stories. In a phantasm. Here everything is made up of words. Said and unsaid. Written and unwritten. Heard and unheard. Familiar and unfamiliar. Words that are still in the nuclei and others which are decaying and dying. Dead words and their ghosts. Orgasmic words exploding at touch of a thought. All encompassing all including words. Tainted words. winged words- magical, ethereal.  Then there are the creative trouble makers. Words that will bewitch you, cast a spell and posses you. They will become your fingers and write the stories for you. You will have no control, no power. Drugged by them your stories will rise from the belly of your mind and float out of the house while you watch in helpless trance. They will be your masterpieces. Your finest creations.

Cast a net  catch a few starry words, look for those glowing words hidden in the crevices, sniff the pain and  joy, vulnerability and  passion, death and rebirth if you have a nose for it. Allow your senses to indulge. Let the words have their way with you. Let them tickle you like a soft feather, undress you slowly down  to the wire syllable by syllable, consonant by consonant. Let them undo you one vowel at a time.Lend yourself to them. Surprise your tongue as they gently push past your teeth , rejoice in the deeper play they create inside you. Watch their sweet swell. Taste the salt on their skin. Dance to their symphony of lust. Let them feed you a story or two in bite size morsels. Be part of their stories. Always searching, always needing, always wanting. There is  a beauty in staying incomplete. Hungry.

Do not be afraid. Open yourself to the house of stories and it will sing you its  siren songs, it will string together and weave fascinating tales.  It won’t lie, It can’t. It isn’t capable of deceit.

No emotion is superfluous here, everything is an all engulfing whirlpool. Everything is larger than life. Raw, naked, stripped off of all inhibitions, everything is free of boundaries reality imposes.  The boundary between the animate and inanimate is in itself animate. Walk that line.

While you do all this always have an escape route. Don’t let the words hold you captive in the house of stories. Slip away the moment you feel the cage closing in. Escape. Heaven is real but so is hell. Sometimes the word wall will crumble like cookies and the winds will scatter them. Do not despair. Other words will take their place and those flung far and wide will take roots there and lay the foundation for some other house of stories. There is always a birth in death. Nothing actually dies.

There is also a dark world lurking in here.  A house within a house where you can cut yourself on words, bleed. Weapons- sharp, loaded. Silent cold words with sharp jagged edges. Gleaming daggers. They can ravage your heart, pierce through it, nibble on it or tear it like a carnivore, throw you off-balance and hurl you down a narrow, gaping hole. They can strip you naked and whiplash you till your skin burns crimson, black and blue but as I said do not be afraid. Let them hammer on your pain points, slump you like a deflated balloon but remember it is all a part of love-making, of self-awareness, of  becoming aware.  Be aware, let them scribble on your heart, accept, relax, surrender to them as they surrender to you. Let the house of stories take you in its warm, moist fold as you take it in yours. Stay joyously drunk on them. Enjoy the fluidity. Ride through it, plunge, rise, drown and rise again. Meet those unmet passions, unbound desires, celebrations and raptures, slaughtered dreams and rejections, the end of the rope and secret shame, discover the road map of scars, heal them , touch them with love as they throb inside your being. Let them bring you to your knees as they take you on a roller coaster ride called life. Watch the swing and swirl of words as they tangle with human emotions.

Be a relentless seeker. Seek the stories hidden in the nooks and corners of this house. Reach out to them. Reach for the void at the end, look for spaces between for it is there you will find yourself. Listen to the echos of your heart. Curl up and retreat in those empty spaces. Don’t be in a hurry to fill them for they add meaning to all that is around you. The spaces between tears and laughter, silence and words, between the pieces of yin and yang that lie in your path. Nestle in the light that seeps through the spaces of darkness and dark that quietly descends between the light. Be there in the spaces between your breaths, give yourself to the space between the rising and the setting sun, slip through the spaces between your fingers, sit quietly between your illusions and delusions.

Find stories hidden in the spaces between awake and sleep, between birth and death,  in gaps where the warmth meets the chill, where yearning meets the indifference, Don’t occupy it , just be there. Dig deep into yourself. Feel the intimacy of being with oneself in these miracle moments.

This house is ever reinventing itself. You can’t live here as a whole. You are split into a million nano particles, each as complete as the other.

You are the house. The house is you. It is a maze. It is an extension of you. Add your stories to it. Write. Create. Co create. Love its solitude and yours within it. Be in love for that is what writing is all about. Become your writing and merge into the house of stories so there is no physical self, just words. Let it be an excavation site where every moment is a mystery revealed. Where in every crack lies a spring waiting to launch forth just like your heart. Don’t box yourself in for the true blossoming can occur only when you have set yourself free of everything that restrains, restricts. Explore, take risks, question, allow yourself.

I live here, in my enchantment. 

Would you like to come in? 

I Like Closures – A poem


the muse rises from the ashes

smeared with the silver  dust  of the moon

sweeps me off my feet

and I ride through the night

 with him-

the wind beneath my wings.

*

we make love

pretend to be lovers

words sizzle

glow in our heat

our fingertips burn

with the touch

a flush rises through the groin

reaches the head

explodes

we imagine

we make love

in our heads

undress

word by word

fantasize

write our own erotic tales

we lay bare our bodies, heart and soul

we love the fluidity , the madness

of the words

as they melt

on our fervid bodies

the rest of the world collapses

words chain us to the bedpost

in a raw sexual ecstasy

a poem rises

like the fragrance  of

crushed violets

beneath us

your voice

brushes against me

like crisp cotton

hardens my nipples

black orchids

your eyes come alive

words

 swell and thrust

 rise and fall

 grasp and crush

and drown in a drizzle

salt rimmed cocktails

they moisten the lips

tequila shots

 my lips quiver

you resist

“I like closures “

you say

I sigh

Spent

I stare at the screen

a  light blinks dies

In steaming silence

I roll a joint

good for the head

the muse rises ….

Between Silence And Words : Poem


Suspended between   silence and words

quiescent  I watch

Someone just drifted past me

even more silently

all colors, shapes, weight, sounds  lost

just a fleeting sense of being

A Relief

One can be alive

amidst this

suspended

but alive

words for once remain quiet

silence whispers

manifesting its existence

I float between two shores

two worlds

one of tangible objects

and the other

silent, unknown and hardly graspable

I yearn for an unfolding

no direction

no final destination

just a gentle swing

between words and silence

and a feeling of denial

Held Captive by..



Words hold me captive

unheard, unsaid words

silent cold words

with sharp, jagged edges

pointed words

smoldering hurting words

words dancing in dizzy circles

clogging words

imaginary, jumbled up words

words rising in my insomniac mind

dormant words

words throbbing, pulsating, vibrantly alive

unemotional, impersonal words

shallow words

hollow words

claustrophobic words

limp lifeless words

heart wrenching words

superfluous words

melting words

fiery words

frozen words

lucid words

caged words

dark words

assertive words

mocking laughing outlaws

dry, shriveled words

murky words

entangled words

unexpected words

pungent words

futile words

momentary words

suggestive words

words lurking in the dark

smoky, blurred, shady words

carefully crafted

chiseled words

distant words

persuasive words

incredibly dramatic words

evaporating words

flawless fluidity

passionate words

love laced noncommittal words

panting, exhausting orgasmic words

hurried words

flattering words

irrevocable words

fabricated words

discolored words

strained words

tainted words- crimson

words that flatter your ego

contradictory words

rearranged words

Word Trap- tormenting, deliberate, schemed

ghosts of words

that tap my shoulders and follow me in the dark

fragrant intoxicating words

i am Imprisoned, held captive by your words

whirlpool

twister

ECHOS

too many words …

-Tiku 22.11.2009

(Image courtesy internet)