Dreaming at the Edge of Reason

By Vishnu Aiyappan

The book mostly deals with the poignancy of dreams and how transient they are. The poems also deal with the way the world appears to the eyes of the author describing the emotions and states of mind that he thinks in. In many ways this collection of poetry is more like a lyrical commentary of the author's take on what it takes to live in todays modern world of fast pace and fleeting dreams.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing India
• Release date: May 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781482821895

Book preview

Part 1

Dreaming on the Edge

1. The Dance

Am I born just to die?

Then dance with a sigh.

Please praise me with cheer,

The fox goes down a path winding.

A dash of blood is colour,

Travels I have done,

Songs I have sung,

Tales I have lived,

The blades vanish with a sigh.

Danced I have amidst the wild,

With none except lone trees and,

Willowy sage flowers.

Red is the brilliance of light,

Crimson is my cloth,

Made from the lives of the lost.

Are we born just to die?

No matter, I dance a dance,

Of swirling blades of crimson,

With soft sighs and a wan smile,

I go greet my destiny

Inevitably notwithstanding.

2. The Land across the River

Can you hear the calling,

Of the raging wind and water?

We just keep dreaming,

Of the land across the river;

Who can cross over,

The raging winds and waves of water?

Still we keep going,

In search of the land over the river;

There is nothing here,

Not life, not death, merely nothingness;

So we still dream on,

Hoping for our salvation;

Can you hear the calling,

Of the raging wind and water?

We just keep dreaming,

Of the land across the river;

Pain and sorrow are all,

Are all that we hear;

Still we remain on our path,

With desperation born of hope;

The raging winds and water,

Halt for one blessed moment;

Then we see clearly for but a heartbeat,

A glimpse of paradise,

Of Promised Land across the river;

So we just keep on dreaming,

Of the land across the river.

3. Hello Sadness

I opened the doors,

Let out the old,

Let out the dust;

I let happiness,

Fill in the cracks;

Yet sorrow creeps back,

Like an old friend,

Never lost but,

In transit for a while;

That’s all! No more!

I won’t shed another tear,

Or even feel let down;

I’ll welcome sadness,

With open arms,

And keep you in my heart,

While forging forward,

Hello sadness,

You’ve come to stay, haven’t you?

4. The song of the most high

Morning star, daylight’s own,

Infinity’s delight with symbols of joy;

Lightning flashes with thunderous roars,

Eternity captured for a heartbeat and let go;

Dewy fields of grass like,

Downy fur or sublime joy;

Warm are the promises that fill the ear,

By silvery wings sighing softly;

Fleeing from yet feeling,

Such soft sorrow piercing through;

Cheeks flushed with joy and laughter,

Of happiness short lived and momentary;

A window opens in the fabric,

Of the sky with no warning;

Faces peer out,

Filled with utmost longing;

Cursed till eternity’s end,

To see and ne’er to touch;

Joy, sorrow, hate, love,

Or any of the emotions of whom,

They shall watch over till eternity’s end;

Yet that too is a blessing,

For they sing forevermore from their prisons;

From their prisons of air and fate,

Come songs from thousands upon thousands of throats,

Singing of the love they hold,

For those who live upon the land,

For those whom they shall watch till the end.

5. The children of the Earth

The first rain that washes down,

Seldom is the last but the first,

Of the threads of the sky-woman’s gown;

Then even as drops of life fall,

Earth accepts them without question,

Yet her children reject it all;

With eyes wide shut,

They reject without knowledge,

In foolishness beyond compare;

No! No! No! This won’t do,

Rise, rise you, rise all,

And drink deep;

The flowers that breathe drink deep,

The rocks that slumber drink deep,

The fish that never sleep drink deep,

Of the life that flows down;

Children of the earth listen well,

The first drops of the first showers;

Are the drops of the finest of wines,

So drink deep.

6. The cry of a child on the shores

Wraith of another age,

Claw another way into memory;

Phantasms of chaos,

Roar with unchecked greed;

Still born within that,

Maelstrom of the soul,

Is hope and with it joy;

But what hope brightens this place?

It is the cry of a child,

Pure and unsullied by,

The vagaries of this world.

Wraiths cringe from this cry,

Phantoms of the night shrivel and disappear,

A soul descends,

Onto dry shores,

Where seas lie

Wet with abandon.

Waves on the shore,

Sing with the child on the shore,

All alone yet not so,

The waves lash over the child,

Echoing the cries of the world.

7. The ride of the few

See the stark faces,

Smiles fraught with