A core of more than just 0 and 1s

If I have a heap of a thousand grains
And I take one by one and throw it down the drains
At what exact point a "heap" no longer remains?

If I drive unsober, hit and hurt Mr. Chuck
Another drives unsober, not encountering a single schmuck
Should I be punished more than he, for my ill-luck?

If I write a song, make a dress out of meat,
Trace a painting by Dali and cook pancakes from buckwheat
What rules define which ones are art which are no feat?

If we want our lives equipped with better aides of actions
Is it time to tear down our digital curtains
And re-build it with a core of more than just 0 and 1s?

My hued white

Thrown in, with throngs of others,
Of every hue and color,
She is a silken white,
And a starry-eyed newcomer.

She picks herself up,
Looks around in wonder.
All is swank and grand, until
Things start to get damper.

Sitting cold and crinkled,
She hopes for things to temper.
But a rumble erupts and she's taken for
A toss, a tumble and a twister.

The ride seems never ending
With only tiny pauses for a breather.
She uses those to soak up
Hues from those that charm her.

The ride and the rumble come to a still.
She rests in the flavor
Of her newfound self
Feeling like a proud fighter.

To the tumble she is thankful
Although it brought with it some languor.
It is what made her fresh and clean,
And gave her a rare color.

It amuses me to see
How much the laundering adventure
Of my little white piece
Is like my saga's sampler.

A profound laundering experience
If you think this piece garners,
I must confess - I just needed to justify
The outcome of mixing my whites and my colors :-)

Apologies encompassed

To those who I hurt
But never wanted to:
I dint know any better then
What else could I do?
I had to learn somewhere,
I'm just sorry it was with you.

Finding Home

I waited by my window
to see him walk by
Hoping one day
to catch his eye.

My fingers curled
tight around the rail
As his familiar form
had my eyes trail.

My heart beat
to the rhythm of his tread
As he walked unmindful
to my feelings unsaid.

For weeks and months
I watched him from my window
Till one day he stopped coming
But never did my desire mellow.

Sitting on my doorstep
one lovely morning
I was sipping at my cup
of coffee and whipping.

It happened in a flash
And there he stood fine
with his eyes firmly locked
right onto mine.

My eyes welled
I felt wetness on the brim
I knew he longed for me
Much as I yearned for him.

He came sat by my side
His hands touched my skin
The thrill was boundless
Like it was almost sin.

My heart pained in the pleasure
I left him and ran indoor
wholly unable to bear
feelings never felt before.

He followed me in
Just as him I started to miss
Then I set supper for us
while he got set to make me his.

As he lapped up his milk
and rubbed my leg against his neckline
I knew he was mine,
My very own pet feline.

Veiled wounds

A lovely evening, a charming hostess

Glitterring guests, flush and famous.

Sweet wine, sparkling crystal,

Delightful music, airy and ageless.

Satin on every shoulder, aroma in every breath,

Flowers in baskets, of every color in the palette.

Mirrors on walls, art on domes

And bloodstains under the carpet.

A fragrant fleet

I have hardly ever had a friend or a foe who hasnt taught me a thing or two. But there are others still who I have hardly known but yet did not fail to leave a mark on me. These people have blown into my life and darted out of it as I only stood looking... but not without leaving their fragrance behind... forever. A tribute to them and to those moments.

You may not remember me
I must be one of a thousand.
I cannot forget thee
The fragrance has not weakened.

You stirred me, you swayed me,
But you will never know.
It is something I truly felt
But never told you so.

My memories dont summon you often.
You dont make my everyday.
But you will make a story that
My children will know some day.

You wont fly into me again,
For that I dont feel sorry.
I know you blew away for
You were never meant to be.

Behold the balloons

I wondered
All these people I see
Some known, some unknown
What do they think of me?

I wished
White balloons of thoughts
Popped from their heads
And showed me what I wanted to see.

I guessed
I would then inspect
How many people found me quirky
And how many found me pretty.

I conceived
Darting out those thoughts
That I knew were misled or those
That portrayed my person untruly.

I realized
I am me to noone but me
And it would take forever
Did I go on a balloon bursting spree.

I poised
Content the balloons are nowhere
And that things are just fine
The way they were meant to be.