Saturday, 14 March 2020

Remembrance

You know you’re alive,
For now,
In this place and time.
You sense it too,
It’s too short awhile,
People and places,
Happiness and feelings,
Moments and memories,
Everything dies.
But is not enough time,
To commit each line,
Into this world,
Give it life.
Each word read,
A lifetime felt,
A memory etched,
Another stretched.
Re-remembering the scent,
Re-finding it’s lost place,
Among the other million times,
Of similar days.
But you should,
For you’re the only one,
And nobody else can,
Speak the same tongue,
Utter the same words,
Feel the same loss.
And for memories,
Of lost friends,
And forgotten lovers,
For the existing colours,
And the ones unseen,
For the foreseen memories,
And forgotten days,
For the love you felt,
And the one which hurts.
You need to get it out.
Breathe into life those words.
Give them life,
And your soul.
Become immortal.
Conquer death.
All this and an unforgotten life.
Start now before it’s too late.
Die a thousand more times,
To relive a single memory.
Tell them all,
Show it to them,
Make them live though it,
Scream it out loud,
Create a world,
A universe,
A life they will all relive,
Though you.
In your memories,
And mistakes.
And myriad of fantasies.
And so I must.
To keep them all alive.
Through these words.

Thursday, 13 February 2020

Snexistential crisis

People come and go to this place. Some stay a while and some stay for the people staying. Some are regulars and others I’ve never met before. It’s all the same. They all have the same walk and manners. Some walk with purpose and you know they are not going to stay. And others walk slow and are less worried about getting there. I have seen each king drop by and stay awhile. They get a drink and exchange ideas. Or Stories and memories and what nots. I wouldn’t know what they speak in their human tongue, for I have never spoken to any or heard them speak. I watch from a distance, coiled around this pillar. I cannot move closer as I cannot move at all. I am stuck here in this nook. I do wonder sometimes about my life. I wonder where do I end and where does the pillar begin? Am I a snake coiled around a pillar or a pillar with a sentient snake? And why am I self aware? Who is doing my thinking when I have no living body? It’s too much to process for a snake coiled around a pillar. I do not eat. I do not move. Yet I feel I have the knowledge of the world flowing though me. I feel as though I have been here all my life. I came from the earth and I will return to it someday. Earth to Earth. No mission control here. From dust to dust. Just with a little time spent around observing those who pass by this place. I cannot move or speak or think. I am a snake coiled around a pillar. Sentient, self aware and stationary. Maybe with a dash of existential crisis. 

Wednesday, 22 January 2020

Pink

I loved you.
More so unknown than I could ever tell you.
I did tell you.
I know that you knew.
I knew that you did too.

It was supposed to be eternal,
You and I.
Doing what we do,
across time and space.
Being us. Just us.

You were a flawed being.
With your stubbornness and beliefs.
I was too, and still am.
But it was our little world,
and us against everything else.

I picked you over everyone else,
sometimes even myself.
I truly loved you.
You were my first and my last.
You still are.

Every memory I have is shared.
With you.
All our firsts,
and our lasts.

I miss you Pink.
More than ever.

I am sorry,
I should have been there.
I am sorry I couldn't be better.
I am sorry.

Your memories are all I have,
Our times together.
I do not know what this life is without you.
It hurts.
Terribly.

Everyday is a reminder of something we did.
You are always there.
You will always be here with me.
Forever.

You are the only one pink,
and I cannot forgive myself,
I wish we could hang again.
Like we used to.

I wish I could talk to you,
for hours, and speak about nothing.
I wish you could be here,
with me.








Thursday, 26 September 2019

Battle your demons each day kids!

I sense your longing,
a lost fleeting song,
one with memories etched in its words,
fading away into nothingness.

You smile through the pain,
the struggles of someone too old to be young,
too young to be reborn,
too old to be someone else.

Some days seem unreal,
uphill battles and volcanic ashes,
and others fierce with possibilities,
and overwhelming strength.

Time to reset,
sleep, wake up and sleep.
Be aware and awake and asleep.
Let us postpone it to another day.

Life and the constant battle to keep your demons at bay.
Did you laugh today?
Or cry. Or think. Or dream?
Did you live today?

I did not. I have not for a long time.

Sunday, 8 September 2019

Here, not for long.

I will write today,
As I did yesterday,
but not the day before,
for I too am human,
and share the species frailties.
But I too am human,
and I share the same hopelessness.
The same virtue of forlorn need,
for finding substance in subtleties.

What I did not write was about,
the words which are seldom said,
life chimes in wind,
each sounding different to the gust.
I did not tell you about the pain,
about how we stuff our hearts,
in square shaped boxes,
made to fit square shaped hearts,
but not for heart shaped squares.
About how we long for meaning,
for substance in truth,
for resistance in words,
for acceptance in silence.

I did write about the world,
about life as one sees it.
About existence in pain,
and perseverance in boredom.
About longing for love,
and loving her long.
I wrote about the lies we tell,
the ones we believe.
and accept and abhor.
About the empty promises we make. 

Monday, 5 August 2019

Where do dreams go to die?

A life too short to live,
A body too fragile to hold,
with concubines in this hive,
our lies repeatedly sold.

Is this what it was to be?
were we living a lie?
Where do our dreams go to die?
What happens to the promises?

Unfulfilled ones lives on forever,
in the memories of their lovers.
Forgotten ones remembered,
in relived memories of longing.

Another world awaits,
for those left behind this one,
a better one with hope and happiness,
and unfulfilled promises. 

Friday, 31 May 2019

True.

Aren't we all becoming drones?
Doing what we think will make us happy.
Or lead us to happiness.
Feeling nothing along the way.
Hoping we are on the right path,
to someone else's idea of fulfilment.

We are transforming into something else,
nothing really matters,
no great wars to fight,
or hardships to overcome.
We look towards the past hoping for an answer.
And the past looks back asking where we went wrong.

How does one keep up?
Where is the quest in this life?
The purpose one claims to be his.
The passion in ones life.

In circles we run,
and nobody tries to break it.
no one stops to think what is all this about?
Who or what are we going towards?

I will move forward,
procreate and ensure my progeny too ruins the planet,
and then I would die out.
Like the rest of us.
Death will come unannounced.

There is no end goal.
No nothing to fight for.
Nothing worth investing your time in.
You do nothing.

Yet we do this.
We look at others for answers,
to questions only we ask.
Maybe I am the single consciousness,
in this vast system of drones.

The more i try to mimic them,
the less I succeed.
I cannot stop being me.
All this while I have been fighting.
A fight I will never win.