The J J Friday – Magic

Janelle, they don’t believe in magic, but I do.

There’s a reason we humans stubbornly duel for a label,
a label that illustrates us
as an adjective.

Black, Hindu, Chinese, Banker;
adjectives designated by humans who craved to substantiate their supremacy
well subjective.

Our conundrum thus lies at this world’s cause
they won’t recite our story till it’s worth reciting,
our story won’t be worth reciting if they keep it to a tattle

Only if they recognized that our terse exchange
of ‘dreams’
was aloft any label,
the kind that makes every transitory second execute like an eternal sobriety battle.

I attest it as a dream and not as a conversation or a memory, moment;
conversations are to be valued
moments to be lived
memories to be cherished,treasured
but dreams,
dreams are meant to be enticing, they are everything.
They are to be chased.

I don’t aspire to make this a quest ,
I just hope to perceive you
A migrant only hopes to reach his next asylum, not build his house or decorate his home.
That would be a dream.

I know the ‘us’ doesn’t sheen bright
not trendy
and doesn’t sound right.
But that’s the magic,
a magic with words which I intentionally, should write.

So hey, let there be drama and let them call this lame.
For once,
I have had the balls without alcohol in my brain.

Hours, Days, Months or Years from now,
Sun will be slightly less bright
World borders a scantly less wide
Or it could be a surrogate Boat Quay night
kismet would be compelled to find you,
Because they don’t believe in magic, but I do.

Hi, My name is Julian Dalbert and Guess what, I’m back!


I’m damn bad at writing things.

I’m damn bad at writing things down; but guess what, you make me talk.
I’m not confident of the words I utter; but guess what, you make me knock.
Knock; at your red door, cautious of your bubble that would burst any instant
Let’s take that random late night run, a moon light walk.

Walk like we took at that bridge of Clarke Quay
Not sure about the shots of Mount Gay rum, one two or three
Three, was the number of dates we went on.
We should have done a coffee or may be just a little green tea.

Tee like woods would, back in 2009
Soar like an eagle without whiskey or wine
Wine is what we should have the next time we meet
Tea,Wine, Whiskey, Rum; with you everything is a treat.

Musings is what I utter and what you read
For a change this is my music, this is my creed

I’m bad at writing things but with you, I feel like I’m on weed.

Yet another Valentines Day

It’s 11:19 PM; I just concluded a con call with our Global Connectivity Team
Not that I dread these night calls, I don’t savor them either
I need that shot of Jack, few rocks; refute this heart to take a breather
He’s going to pulp again; soon stirring up
to an evil scheme.

He’s getting old, pardon him – impatient he may be
Only once could he celebrate this auspicious day with an awe-inspiring glow
but since that April – astray the charm, altered his flow
Now he encores once in a blue, either in the streets of Bu Vien
or Clarke Quay

Countless times have I not tried to distract him from this philein
Countless times have I not asked him to take a leap of faith
But wait!
“…it’s the right thing to do”, once said
the One Tree Hill Quinn

Not that his piece of literature will alter the course of the day,
Nor will it make him feel he’s not alone
They say only the heart knows the unknown
and rest will remain unaltered on the
streets of Bombay

This is yet another piece tray, Yet another Friday night blue
Yet another Valentines Day, Yet another one
Without You!

Under the bridge or Over?

Who am I to predict the future unseen
Who am I to challenge the transformation of Ice
To water it turns, surrenders to alcoholic heat
With time, that time, how dare I question that cheat

I write this with no grudge, no reason to whine
Not that I have lost everything to his wrath nor have I won his consolation
a little lost on justification of this musing
I’m just trying to control this heart that’s cruising

Don’t ask me versions of my justifications
Displaced I’m not; nor do I have my armor shine
But yet again, tis time is knocking my gate
I don’t think we’re there yet; am I to put my faith in fate

As I let the ice melt and rejoice the Johnnnie Walker Black in cover
You tell me, am I under the bridge or am I, over?

Beautiful things in life.

Someone once said: Some of the most beautiful things in life happen to you without you really noticing. 

And isn’t that true. Some of the most inspiring things happen to you without you anticipating them; some of the world’s most incredible events happen without one predicting it.

I was lost; concrete woods, I thought the sun will soon set leaving that question unanswered
I fell; twenty three stories down but I was not alone, four was our count, everything standard

Earlier accused of being incapable, negativity had roofed my heart and infected my brain
As we walked along; I was hoping for the sun not to set and the cloud not to rain.

Her eyes would peek mine and I would gander with awe.

Our directions; met like two north poles of two distant moons, she walked ahead, I was to follow.
That coffee; had triggered something special, unaware I couldn’t comprehend the distant hollow

Articulation; a tender sweet symphony of truth, she rolled across the panorama
Am I to ask her number? or am I to Facebook her too. Overshadowed I was, by this dilemma


Her eyes would peek mine and I would gander with awe.

Soon we reached my destination, and it wasn’t her for now
She’s a magic of art and a literature of God; scribbled in my destiny to which I bow

Some of the most beautiful, incredible, personified, unprecedented things in life happen
Without me really noticing; I added her to my vicious wagon

For now;

Her eyes would peek mine and I would gander with awe.

And there I go, in the shadow – The Pho experience #9

She gleams with a shadow of my existence that I know is true,
I would smile, hide yet believe because I know it’s you
I won’t beg
I won’t plead
Because it’s you that makes me, an artist, a passionate explorer, makes me me.
You smile at a running dog that makes me Glee

You’re pure like pink lotus flower,
There’s a story we share and a night that we know it’s ours
I’m scared to know how you feel
Is this me imagining ? Is is real?
I won’t force
I won’t chase
Because it’s the nature of life, like a broken seal
Be my life, like a captain’s wheel

Did I say to much? Is it a lot?
I know I’m being weird and may be like a bot
In my eyes you might seek truth
Is this a dream or is this true?
It’s in my heart, tonight, you’ll find you.