I don’t want to count the stars,
And wonder at those glistening points
Nor wander through the untouched thicket, Pffft!
Who has time for all this!
I don’t ask for much. Never have.
Simply not enough time, nor patience
For self is the centre of it all.
Minutes fall around me, hours roll
Away, like pebbles
From the hands of a child
But do I dare whimper? Or shed a tear?
Thick skin as they say, like cow hide
Beaten down, so many times
I hardly feel the pain.
Those you love the most are the ones who enjoy watching you bleed. And
sometimes you need to ask yourself
Have all that love been in vain?
Hours roll, unfeeling, just as years have rolled before them
With the heaviness of machines, well oiled
Tired eyes, tired heart, spent and alone watch on
Where did it begin?
Where to end? Should it end? Questions
Those painful hooks, tear into the flesh
I don’t wear white, for it shows off the red
Of a wounded bleeding skin.
Haven’t you heard?
Simplicity is the hardest thing.
Less is more, more is less
Who makes these rules, where do they bend?
Can they bend?
Questions. They know
No answers. Life
Is such, as we constantly tell ourselves.
But is it really so? Who makes these rules?
Where do they bend? Can they bend?
No one knows, does
I sleep, like a log, no
More like a woman, craving sleep
At the last wisps of dreams, breaking
My nails as they flee
I always wake with a start, sometimes
Like the sky falls down, no
Like I fall down from the sky, it is
painful. Sometimes I bleed
Inside my mind.
Floating about mindless
Sticks to the senses, lulls you
To a dream-like state
Blissful, and blue, yet
Why must I always wake?
For duty calls, life calls,
No, what we’ve made our life, that’s what calls
It always calls, whispers like the fiend,
Clings to the skin
Like the nasty smell of vehicle smoke, like
Other people’s sweat, after a long day of work.
Jut into your gut, like elbows
At this time of the day
Stagger on cocoon-ward, blood bubbles
Toils and troubles inwards
Dreading yet another day
Darkness falls regardless.
I should like to hold you now
Despite the yawning miles, defy
The gnawing acid of distance, perhaps
Reach out to you in your dreams, but you
Never really dream, do you?
Barred behind that impenetrable wall of sleep you
Wander off on your own, and I
Can do nothing else but wait
Till you unbar the sleep doors again the next morning
Setting those slightly bewildered eyes upon
Too much sunlight and a world that makes way too much fuss
Over unimportant things.
Maybe you will remember to stop
And dream a little tomorrow, at daybreak
In between sips of tea and
Driving to work amidst a
Honk infested city, but then again,
Remember but of me, of my thoughts
Always with you, early morning
Despite a slumber slurred voice greeting you
From the other end of countless strings of
Electromagnetic waves, coarsely spun
Of unrefined emotions that are
Generally healthier than the synthetic refineries
In plenty these days.
Remember me, of the unrefined caresses, words
Too coarse to be of plastic
In an otherwise plastic world.
Future smiles with outstretched arms
Run like a child,seeking warmth
Of its mother’s safe arms.
But in my careless haste,sometimes
I scratch myself on the briers that line my way
I trip,feet bound with lies, I fall
In to snares laid with deceit,
Run a stake or two through the heart, I bleed
I cry, I scream,I curse, my trust
It shatters with the fall,sometimes
I cut myself on the shards,I fear
I may never trust again.
Yet I stand,I gather myself,
I smile through the pain,I walk through the rain.
Battle wounds run deep,they sting,they hurt
But they heal
With time. Yet sometimes,
I think I will die, bleed myself to death and yet
Wounds turn to scabs, scabs turn armor
Valuable stuff these scars, they serve as maps
Of where I have been,of what I have survived
The blood that I’ve shed is the rouge on my lips
The tears that I’ve cried are the pearls around my neck
I wear my kind deeds,they are the garlands in my hair
My perfume is sweet,it is my virtue that I’ve preserved.
I stand tall,I run swift
I run like the wild black mare unleashed,
My limbs ache,I ail sometimes
Yet I battle demons,ward monsters,beware
My wounds become armor,my scars become shields,
My heart survived blows,becomes stronger still
I am what I am,I’ve braved many storms
My faith is strong, I’ve always
Always carried on.
Sometimes all you need is just one tiny little thing to deliver you relief from the colossal weight that you are forced to carry around on your shoulder. When all hope’s gone and you are lost and alone in the middle of nowhere, the lost man knows how precious even the feeble flickering of a fire fly is to make his heart soar. Even if your entire life is one big dramatic tragedy beyond repair, even if everybody else is gritting their teeth to mold you in to their models of perfection, there should at least be one compassionate part in your life, one minuscule morsel that accepts you as you are, not having expectations that shall suppress your soul and draw tears from you instead of wiping them away. There should at least be one understanding, forgiving aspect of your life that welcomes you with open arms and a shoulder to cry on. If not, life gets unbearable. Sensitivity is a good thing, but it also makes you sting extra when times get rough.
I am grateful for what I’m capable of feeling. I cherish my heightened ability to feel, whether it be smell, touch, vision, sound or emotion because it takes one to new euphoric levels of conscience that you just didn’t know existed. It’s not easy when it comes to pain though. Just like the positivity is taken to euphoric heights by hypersensitivity, pain is taken to hellish, unfathomable depths which sometimes become too calamitous to the all too fragile a soul. But then, I do not mind pain. Pleasure exists because of pain. But that pain should always, always be recompensed I believe. The soul is a beautiful, delicate thing that runs the risk of being broken, which then shall turn in to the well-beaten deer hide that lies on your couch, incapable of feeling, numb to gentle caresses. And I do not want to become a deer hide by all means, however hard things may get at times. Like I always say, pleasure exists because of pain. And I want to be able to feel everything, in every sense of that beautiful word “feel”. I do not want to lose my pleasure. Nor my pain for that matter.
That feeble flicker of light is really all you need sometimes because it can raise you to unmeasurable heights in your darkest hours. Sometimes all you need is a kiss on the forehead, a warm gaze and a loving touch to assure you that there shall always be at least one person rooting for you even if the whole world boos you down when you come last in this huge rat race of stampeding hippos and trumpeting elephants. But then, I doubt the generosity or the practicality of anyone else putting aside their own hectic, life-draining races for a while and come cheer me on, but I still expect people to do so and get hurt when they don’t in all my naiveness. They are individuals too and I’m well aware of the fact that they all got their own races to run.
But then, if you care enough, you would stop your own race for a while, for somebody for whom you care for so very much and cheer them on, wouldn’t you? I know I have. And I still do. Call me stupid, call me naive, call me a romantic imbecile but I shall keep doing so too. I have always put my loved ones first, even before my own self. And this is no soap opera line. It’s the brutal, bleeding, hurting, stinging truth. But that’s another story.
I know I’m still too green to be strong and durable to brave all my hurdles with a dazzling, unaffected smile on my face, but at least I shall try, sobbing my way through the thorns that graze my still tender skin, bearing my red rose of hope and love. But I learn each passing day. At each scratch of skin, at each stab of knives, a rare and precious lesson shall be etched in blood in the much guarded parchments of my mind.
One of these days I shall learn to look within myself for answers, that much needed self-assurance that shall keep my head above the water without expecting others to throw lifebuoys to save my drowning self on those rare moments of panic and illusion, however rare they may be. I shall know better than to cry over the grazes on my skin and worry whether they shall leave permanent scars on my skin. One of these days I shall be hardy enough to combat my way through the piranha-invaded waters without a blemish but still manage to keep my heightened levels of sensitivity to feel all the good things in life.
Like I said, I’m learning. Still learning each passing day. And each lesson beckons a new era, a new age of self-sufficient contentment, disillusionment and emotional independence that shall set me free. Hopefully I shall receive the class prize for the best student this year, I know I’m making progress fast :)
Whizzed past today
Stuck in a rut,looking up
Light filters through the heavy blinds
Faint light, sickly light
Lights upon wasted life
The miserable.The tear stained.
Unopened windows guard musty air
Shadows lurk,spiders weave
Their crafty webs in a vacant mind
Insipidity reigns, air drained
Of freshness,of color
Life lay suffocated,muses hang
From their necks,from crooked branches
Wringed of all goodness,happy memories
Dissapointment lurks here,nothing disperses
The loneliness of mind,no intellectual companionship
No inspirations.Life lay
In dog-eared books