As I lay in my bed, lonely and in a pool of tears, my breaths kept pacing for every tick and every tock tossed a different memory of you, of us infront of my eyes and when I couldn`t gasp a breath, I woke in panic and threw the clock across the room. Unmatchable is the comfort of that broken clock and soothing is the silence for silence is the sound of nothingness and that`s the feeling running through my veins; of nothingness. Nothing I feel, nothing to say, nothing to hold on to, nothing to go to and primarily nothing to desire for all I desired, I had and it all vanished like vapour, without a farewell. Without the chance of last sight, before the chance of one last touch. Incomplete is to say broken is my heart for it has shattered into pieces that are scattered all over the edge of the knife on which I stand. The rope on which I dance to the music of misery is being cut from one end for me to drop in the abyss that awaits my arrival for far too long I have danced over the clouds with the birds to the cacophony of love believing it to be a great harmony. But now I see the quarrels and the pointed words but didn`t they melt in the night when I looked at her coming to bed all angry just to wait for me to say a few sweet words to change her mind and change the course of today to a happier tomorrow. I also remember the times when she laid her head upon my shoulders and cried and those times too when she laid her head in my lap, my hands in her hair and we talked and laughed all night. What about those nights when all we did was look at each other holding all the love in eyes and smearing sporadic smiles and smickers to acknowledge the silent thoughts exchanged. The memories are too many to carry alone and I need you to laugh on all those stupid words I say, those little fantasies that make you giggle. Honey, wake up and save my disfigured spirit from the hands of boundless grief for this pain is too strong to endure. Oh I see the thorns in the rose we were but I`m ready to endure them for us to indulge in its fragrance but now all I`m left with is the stick with thorns that grow bigger with each sob and the petals have turned black just as you did when you crashed. As you lay on this pyre of wood with a white tulip in your hands, people witness your body burning but I witness my soul burning too, in the flames of grief.
My heart knows the rhythm of your footsteps
As they climb the stairs to the room where
I lay weak in knees by your spells
Of poetic charms; the smoothest seduction.
I lay naked, in absolute bliss caused by
The fever of love that runs through my veins.
As you open the door, your lovely voice
Carves over my soul, the verses
Of romance you script to my name;
“The bee has returned to his honey
To exchange poems with sweet kisses
And share this lively fever of love”.
As the rising tides wash away our footprints
I`m unable to trace those yesterdays
To remember the path to “here”.
For all I care and know is – this is bliss.
Coffee is too sweet with kisses on your lips.
Is both weakening and strengthening; the fever of love.
I tore out my winged limbs
And burnt all its feathers
For my desire to live was still lit.
Since happiness irritates
For the one desire that grew deepest
And burnt brightest; to be a genius
Can`t be earned but is a gift
Granted with the curse of existence.
Every guffaw and smile questioned
And mocked my dream that will always be a dream.
I cut my heart asunder
For it bothered with songs of malarkey
And through joy I put a spear of sorrow
That was stuck in my wounded neck
For the choking truth of normality
Is a suffering too brutal to endure
And my spirit, now, is in fragments.
For, once again, my breaths are reasonless.
Those days of idleness and laziness are over. Lost, I was, once again, from my path of chasing genius for broken was my spirit by the despondency caused by the reflection of my moronic being. Gruesome was the taste of dust I licked, of my reality. Lost was that purgatory where I wept tears of self-loathing and self-hatred and screamed with a cloth in mouth. And, sometimes I`d let the beast run wild in the crowd. I had lost him. Who? Poet. I had lost it? Madness.
My breaths of sanity were meaningless. Normalcy was repulsive and sucked the life out of my insanity. And I was dead though warm blood pumped through my veins. But then lightning struck again. And he found me. Who? Poet. Then I found it again? What? Madness.
I remember the day of your first sight
When my eyes stared as you walked into light
My tongue slurred, mind crashed because I
Had too many words at once and I was muddled
Which to reveal and which to hoard for pages
And being me, I kept every word away from lips
And gave them to you in my poesy.
Oh Yadira, it was the start of something wonderful
Maybe at snail’s pace but graceful as a deer
We’ll find our pace for we’ve found our places.
I’m not that pillar you hold when you feel weak,
I can be. I’m not that soul who offers you a guffaw
But I can be the soul who smears you with whisks of love
When the world turns cold and breaks your heart
For the nexus of affinity that lingers between
Is by us belonging to analogous coteries.
The last dawn that carries to deliver
That mild zest that flows out the spare sleep
From my eyes, and willingly, I throw the sheets
Away with my legs; that dawn has arrived.
Yadira, do not let my words scare your rhythm
But I will miss the liveliness you offered
In those dull moments of morn when
It was just me and my cigarette
But since you, morn has a shine
I knew not until you and me
Shared a smoke and a laugh.
I might not remember the stories
But I won`t forget the memories
I made in this terse voyage of affinity.
May us find us on some different corner
Of some boulevard with a novel story
To share a laugh, and reminisce with a smoke.
My reticence restrains me
From revealing the unsaid words that
Pester my heart since your first wave;
“Oh beauty, you are beautiful.”
The curve on your salmon lips when
You smile or break into a chortle,
The mystery that sets in your eyes
And the design that hides under attire
Is as seducing as it is wonderful.
But do not feat the silence
For it is there where hearts bind,
In that moment I pause and ponder
Upon the beauty of yours, that tempts and torments.
since that destined afternoon
when we met, I`ve failed at every attempt
to script a poem for you
for whenever I drew your portrait in my
palace of conception, it always was
amorphous and white for unrevealed
was what shall light the fire of muse
but last mighttide I poured in
colours and paints I conceived
from our short colloquy.
i saw strange shades
that laign with mine fortuitously
and I crave to see the colors and their shades
that sit quietly, unknown to me.
do not doubt these verses and even
though they intend to smear flattery, I
script no colourless lies when I say
in the world, you`re the only poem in flesh.
I sat there alone, prisoned in poetry
Scripting verses of melancholy
Then my eyes stumbled upon a soul
Sitting empty in idleness
Looking at the screen and ceiling.
I attempted to perceive her face
From the pattern of her hair and the design
Of her skin but blurred was my vision
Until she turned to reveal
Her beautiful face possessing a smile
That’s seductive for it seduced me
To smile from the frown my face held
And the gentle wave of her soft hands
Was graceful enough to inspire me
To compose for her, this poem.
All I desire I dream in my sleep
Then when waking pinches, I weep
For if I think very hard and too deep
Oozing blood from my palpable wounds did sweep
My life`s joy with my love`s death
And I taste melancholic agony in every breath.
I cry red tears, my tongue, it furrows.
My solitary spirit is lost in a maze of burrows
And my muse merges in me when from a cursed chalice
Grieving I gulp venom and soothing malice
And I finally feel comfort in surreality
For I can only mourn and rue yesterday`s reality.
With a guffaw, I choke with my spittle, all thoughts of prudence
While I drown in a black sea of my despondence