But they said, but its not,
But I knew, but I was caught,
And you were, and in time,
And in nineteen ninety nine,
And I short of words, ran,
Less hopefully, I thought I can.
Fighting time to save a spill,
Part of a 6th semester thrill,
Short of that undiscovered you,
Look-a-likes but genuine few.
'Tis not meant for some damn girl,
For that matter, interests spurn,
Not an Oppenheimer rhyme,
Nor an Hercule Poirot crime.
Just some overtime idol muse,
Something somewhere, lit a fuse,
Been through the same familiar faces,
Or in space-time, the same damn spaces.
But natural, the mind unleashed,
Horizons wide, in passive speech,
How many times, will you read this drivel?
How much difference, difference can you tell?
And do you think, you'll show it around?
And do you think my mind is sound?
Or am I lunatic on the grass?
And will I never be first in class?
And will I be able to fill this page?
Having got this far, thus stage,
Yeah, right sure, I like to impress,
Yeah, right, nowhere in sight, impress,
Yeah, right, plans that come to nought,
Almost a full page of scribbled thought.
And this space, I have yet to fill,
For there are gonna be revelations still,
But then again, it's all the same,
Words and words, and then a name.
The last stanza-the maximum effect,
But there crept in, a slight bit defect,
Glowing tribute in free form verse,
No adjectives used, what could be worse?

Since I am currently running low in inspirration and motivation - I thought I'd post someone else's work. A long time ago - almost seven years now - someone sent this to me . We'd email each other in verse - and we had this "jugalbandi" going on. So this one is an ode to a friend (who I knew fleetingly), and an ode to a time when we were "younger" and the words came footloose and free.