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BANG BALLS
FREEDOM OF SPEECH NOTHING SHOULD BE IMPOSED
IDEAS NOT LEECHED ONLY CREATIVELY COMPOSED |
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Jasmine
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Wednesday, November 25, 2009
My Smokin' Girl. Love mimics an addiction to cigarettes. Women are like cigarettes. You buy a pack of cigarettes knowing that you have twenty sticks in it. You date a girl knowing that there are just as many other girls out there. If the pack doesn't suit you, you move on. If the girl doesn't suit you, you too move on. There's a certain amount of anticipation you have before you open each and every pack. Knowing that every stick will satisfy your craving whenever you have one. Each cigarette can be alluded to a woman you fancy. Women are great company. Liking them is even better. They offer you a sense of elation, comfort and a warm fuzzy feel. Cigarettes like women offer the very same feeling. Cigarettes are the best companion for a lonesome individual. And likewise, women are great companions for lonely men. The lighting of a cigarette is much like courtship with a love interest. As you light the stick up, you have a sense of excitement. You know that you'll be satisfied with each and every puff you take. The first few puffs are so intense that they knock you off your feet. You get all oozy and light headed. You even smile to yourself. As with courtships, they too knock you off your feet at the very beginning. The excitement you have before each date is equivalent to that of craving a cigarette. You know you'll be happy with what's to come on the date. So you go through the routine inhalations and exhalations. And soon you come to the end of your stick. It's about time to stub it out. And like the dying cigarette, the fun and exciting dating game too comes to an end. All of a sudden, you're taken out of your magical world of love into cold hard reality. So what happens after that? You probably wait for your next craving for a stick. And when it comes, you repeat your standard operating procedure. Pack, open, remove, insert, light, inhale, exhale and extinguish. As with smoking, you do the same with women. When your dates don't work out or you decide that things aren't working out, you leave and extinguish whatever flames there are between you and the other. Just as you crave a smoke, you too crave the company of a woman. And when that craving hits you, you repeat another set of standard operating procedures. Initiate, flirt, date, date some more, realise and leave. This is how one goes through so many packs of cigarettes. This is also how one goes through that many 'heartmakes' and heartbreaks. But if you think about things carefully, there's a commonality between each and every cigarette/pack you smoke. That similarity is your trusty lighter. As packs and sticks go, the lighter is the only thing that stays. It gives you the most important element a smoker needs - fire. You can abandon your current pack for another newer/fresher pack. But you can never do without your lighter. You develop a special bond with it. You never leave home without it. And as with your lighter, only a special someone can make you feel that way. When you eventually find her, nothing can make you abandon her. You're hers as she is yours. You develop a special bond with her - love. Your heart never leaves her behind. Your lighter isn't perfect. There are times where it too runs out of gas. Or the times where the flint is worn out and won't light the wick. You get frustrated. Maybe even angry. But at the end of the day, you bring it home and you service it with some tender loving care. You top it up with some fluid, you change the flint so that it sparks - perfection yet again. And as with your lighter, your lover can also make you irritated. There are bumps in the road of love. But each and every time you think it's just too much to take, all you have to do is to just put in more tender loving care. Things work out; they work out perfectly. With a cigarette you may give up as and when you want, but with your lighter, you never give up without a fight. And as with you a random girl you fancy, you move on when you have to, but with your lover, you too never give up without a fight. I've found my lighter, have you? Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Blood Lust. A twist of the torso A twitch of the flesh Each strike I take Is better than the rest The slamming of the fist I know I've not missed Again and again I let it flow My knuckles now white and cold I summon each punch With zest and feel Embedding them with a hit of steel I see the blood But I feel no pain For with each strike I take I see a face I hate I hit and I hit Till it's set on repeat I learn to hit where it will kill For I fight not to injure But to draw blood Blood not of my own But the crimson of my foes For their blood I lust And will one day draw I strengthen myself more and more To keep them running I turn to hate With scorn and disgust In them I soar Their souls mine for the taking For myself I will prepare this killing I lust their blood More than God's mighty floods I compose myself I take my aim And once again I start this cycle Of hit, punch and restore For their blood I seek And will one day meet I will keep this hatred aflame With gusto and pain I will make them pay For sins they made on that day For hatred is insufficient To express what I feel They will pay for their sins For what they've in the past committed Vengeance is what keeps me afloat As I sail in solitude in this hateful boat. Saturday, November 14, 2009
All You Need Is Love. For everything has it's cycle And in these cycles lie a purpose We will never know of them Until the very very end So, we'll wait it out To find what it's all about For we already know where our road will lead In that direction, its signs, together we will heed |
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