Past Sonnet: Wishful Androgynous Lust

Over a year ago, I wrote this sonnet. It was inspired by the sleep paralysis that happened nightly. I saw things that caused me terror, but on certain nights, I had some control over what I saw. Hence the sonnet. My first, if I remember correctly, about the pains of unreciprocated love.

Written first in logishlifestyle.wordpress.com, here it is:

In darkened skies -the moon, the stars- they glow,
My heart, my soul, my bed belongs to you.
Eyelids shut and thence, thy sensual dew.
Beguiling scent; tight cords that bind my bones.

Stifled by sweet lips, the groans and moans…
An angel’s face, no doubt, the devil’s deal!
Charming eyes of fiery passion brew,
My wish, as such, for spinning Earth to slow.

At daylight’s prod, I see you nowhere here,
Beknown to me, enslaved by night-time’s bid.

Dire desperate lust, my futile tears.
To thrive, in other’s dreams, you need to feed.

Henceforth, pray I, the bleedin’ sun to die
Till then, my nightly visions, live to lie.

– Logen Lanka

You must really think I’m pathetic now. The first stanza talks about the paralysis process; I likened it to being bound.

Anyway, I’ve talked about wanting to take up drawing again. Maybe I’d do a concept drawing for this sonnet.


Upcoming: I’ll be talking about religion. Then, I’ll do a post on Section 377A.


This Old Kid Wants To Draw

When asked about my hobbies at the age of 7, I’d say I love to draw. But, as years went by, my interest in it dwindled.

Anxiety, whenever the teacher graded art, replaced the joy and freedom of drawing. Besides, I wrongly believed that sketching was an inborn ability that cannot be learnt. So, I eventually gave it up as a leisure activity.

And now, I want to take it up again. I hope to do portrait drawing. However, time, plus my knack to procrastinate, does not permit my desire. I admire kids for they can do stupid things without being mocked.

I shall add the below to my life list. Come the school-break, I must work on it.

To do a good portrait drawing



Logen is Logish

Eyes shut, trying a blazer

Hi, I’m Logen. Above is a picture of me. My friends think I’m crazy. I agree, though I can’t explain why.

My head brims with stories, which I’d soon like to pen. They come to me when I dream, fantasise or feel depressed. They act as a talisman against my reality that sometimes is sad. I fear it.

Reality is what we perceive to be true, while fantasy is what we hope will exist. The line is blurred between the two. One can only be hopeful.