I donno how to react. I see strangely familiar similarities with this random stranger I spoke to, during my long trip from Moscow to India. He had an Oscar Wilde to read and I had some deadlines to meet. I saw in him, something of "the bunch of randomness" that I was, a couple of years ago. I put the deadline aside, to lend a ear, to feed my own curiosity. Feed my curiosity I did, with intriguing conversations and the typically atypical Oscar Wilde stating, "All art is quite useless."
There have been recurrent tides of evanescent deja vu hitting me everyday. Just a few random threads of words to pen down this strange feeling and help me unclog my mind.
The fidgety fugitive from yonder,
Made my memory wander
In time, to ponder
Of the own self more fonder.
As I was left to wonder
Of the decade gone longer
I took a gander at the outlander
Labelled as gone goose
In a tight noose
With a dozen goose eggs!
Hither and thither
Yes, i went into heather
And bad weather
With fear always near
It took away the ones so dear
My mind was my fear
My thoughts weren't clear
The fidgety fugitive, tearing me ear to ear
With another year, came the salt and pepper
And the bellwether
Of the goose hanging high and nigh.
Turning all stones that lie
On untrodden paths to the unfinished goal
Hitherto dared not touch with a barge pole.
I go up the greasy pole
The way to the highman on the totem pole
No, not dole
But sweat, holy soul!
While I open my eye,
Into the deja vu I try to pry.
Srangely familiar
Far, yet so near.
Again, it is the fudgitive figitive!
Breeds curiosity, than contempt,
At every attempt.
Every word rings a bell
That all is well
This very moment - The present -
Is more a "present"
Of a future that I see, from a past
Forever lost!
P.S." A work of art is useless as a flower is useless. A flower blossoms for its own joy. We gain a moment of joy by looking at it. That is all that is to be said about our relations to flowers. Of course man may sell the flower, and so make it useful to him, but this has nothing to do with the flower. It is not part of its essence. It is accidental. It is a misuse. All this is I fear very obscure. But the subject is a long one." - Oscar Wilde
Now for the deja vu. Is it art? Is it a flower that blooms to wither? Accidental? Well, the subject is a long one....
There have been recurrent tides of evanescent deja vu hitting me everyday. Just a few random threads of words to pen down this strange feeling and help me unclog my mind.
The fidgety fugitive from yonder,
Made my memory wander
In time, to ponder
Of the own self more fonder.
As I was left to wonder
Of the decade gone longer
I took a gander at the outlander
Labelled as gone goose
In a tight noose
With a dozen goose eggs!
Hither and thither
Yes, i went into heather
And bad weather
With fear always near
It took away the ones so dear
My mind was my fear
My thoughts weren't clear
The fidgety fugitive, tearing me ear to ear
With another year, came the salt and pepper
And the bellwether
Of the goose hanging high and nigh.
Turning all stones that lie
On untrodden paths to the unfinished goal
Hitherto dared not touch with a barge pole.
I go up the greasy pole
The way to the highman on the totem pole
No, not dole
But sweat, holy soul!
While I open my eye,
Into the deja vu I try to pry.
Srangely familiar
Far, yet so near.
Again, it is the fudgitive figitive!
Breeds curiosity, than contempt,
At every attempt.
Every word rings a bell
That all is well
This very moment - The present -
Is more a "present"
Of a future that I see, from a past
Forever lost!
P.S." A work of art is useless as a flower is useless. A flower blossoms for its own joy. We gain a moment of joy by looking at it. That is all that is to be said about our relations to flowers. Of course man may sell the flower, and so make it useful to him, but this has nothing to do with the flower. It is not part of its essence. It is accidental. It is a misuse. All this is I fear very obscure. But the subject is a long one." - Oscar Wilde
Now for the deja vu. Is it art? Is it a flower that blooms to wither? Accidental? Well, the subject is a long one....
