Love, Poetry

Our Story

If all these

could be woven

into paragraphs

of strings of ink

printed on musty

blank sheets;

how would you

want it to be;

Would it be

of how we meet

the only day out of ninety

that wasn’t chilling

to the depths

of our bones and skin

of how spilled coffee and poetry

somehow coalesce into

soulmates and bliss;

Or would it be

the countless nights of

bellows and cries;

Of endless forgiving and trying

to all our vain attempts

of untying the knot

that we so carelessly bind in between;

Would you rather

the sweet beginnings or

the tumultuous parting

to be our story.

 

Standard
Love, Poetry

When she left,

His last words

were silence;

His fingers cold

to their tips;

Head down

with no gallantry

to even mouth a word

of apology or farewell bid;

His pale shivering skin

once an abode housing the

warmest most comforting heartbeat;

yet now only flounders on

with no meaning;

His veins don’t flow

with the same ardor

nor his vessel still

beat as sanguine;

It was as if

his soul left

after hers did.

 

Standard
Dreams, Poetry

Caged

I sat in a cage;

When they came

and read to me

stories

of those

who wandered

beyond

these four edges;

Men who

reached for the stars

could fly high in the sky

and cross mountains of all heights;

So I lusted

for an adventure

out of these walls

day in

and out

I fought the bars

that held me in;

Believing that one day

I too

can be like those men

that they read

doing almost

unthinkable things;

Tears

and sweat

I shed

till one day

I see them

came back;

 with a silver key

hanging in one of

their pockets;

They sat

and read

the stories

of those

who conquered the beyond

not once touching the keys

dangling on;

Go out there and

you too can achieve wondrous things

they smiled

then left;

And I sat

baffled and disheartened

wondering what

should I do next.

(If it helps you to understand better, “They” refers to society.)

Standard