Monday, February 21, 2011

Dream...

A dream, came and perched
on my shoulder, strong
Then, my eyes only searched
your eyes, it had been long

Like a dove, I went on
and on, flying on my imaginary
skies, clouds of you drawn
every minute; our parting anniversary

Black and white, means nothing

to me now, I just love
you with my unknown might, achieving
something no Gods have above

And with your absence, as I see
nothing but long blankness, into
a world, a prison; I cannot disagree
Until it’s time to bid adieu
 

But as each judgment bends, its way
into a heart, the depth partially unknown
there is something that distance cannot weigh,
everyday, my love I see, a little more grown
  
So now it is just me, awake and silent
into these nights and days, I have been
from my senses which soar violent
into a dream, no mortal has ever seen

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Why can't we halt...

Why can’t we halt, for just awhile
and breathe looking into the open sky
Why can’t we for a simple reason smile
That there are some feelings, we just can’t deny

Why can’t we sing a sweet new song each day
Or sing the one’s that bring in some light
So that we create a fresh right of way
To experience some of life’s unseen delights

Why can’t we exist each day – a new poetry
and breathe carelessly for just sometime
And grip anything with a bond, fiercely
And trust in nothing, but hours sublime

Why are we so tied up in explaining
For something’s, which just need to be felt
There is nothing worth more than now
Sometimes it’s alright to stop believing

Why can’t we just take a long leap
to a journey so much unknown
Only make the good moments seep deep
In your heart, you’re never alone

So now, I let myself soar towards nowhere,
Whether I’m missing or not being missed
And to me I nowadays these questions ask
And just hold this time by its delicate wrist;
So – Why can’t we halt, for just awhile
and breathe looking into the open sky

- Marcus Hades

Sunday, February 6, 2011

What makes me write about the dark side...


I write this to clarify certain aspects about writing – especially the variety of dark genres. Readers and critiques would always link a writers style with their personality and gauge their mental attitudes and persona. They feel that the writers who write dark fiction and poetry are the ones who are depressed or mentally unstable. They are considered to be negative and perhaps even given advice like “Why don't you write happy stuff?” or “You should look at the bright side of life” etc. I already have explained in an earlier post that I do not have a choice when I write. I simply write and place it in front of an audience. While I cannot speak on behalf of all writers who write in these genres, I can only state this for myself. I write stories and poetry and many articles what I trust do not come in any specific type of work. A story may be classified in a genre, but my job as a writer is to just write, while it is for the people to make that classification.

If you ask me why I write horror, dark or stories representing Gothic romance, my answers are simple. If you notice any story I have written, closely, there are all kinds of elements present in them. The dark side of whatever I write does not come out from within me per se all the time. It comes out of what I see from people around, read in the news or have experienced firsthand. It comes from all kinds of people. Insensitive people, greedy people, ruthless people, selfish people and so many other kinds. I see their actions, their words and the bad ways in which they handle a situation. I see their dark side, and how they comfortably veil it to satisfy themselves and others. This is all seen by me as a witness, and hence this flows into my stories. Well, I honestly think critics need to see the work and not try and gauge the writers personality per se. It makes way for faulty readership and judgment. The writer’s do quite some introspection for themselves I think (hence I guess are able to write). So now, whenever you read something dark and are beginning to gauge anything else besides the work - look within yourselves and answer this – is the darkness you read on paper because of something or someone you know; or yourself? Godspeed.