Wednesday, October 18, 2017

Broken Hearts

Broken hearts scream the loudest in the dead of night,
And Under the rain and thunder,
They weep and curse under their breaths
As trinkets of cheap tears roll down their hearts
Right before they walk away from one another everyday.

Broken hearts recognise one another in almost an instant,
They greet and show off their muscular physiques,
They welcome  others with phoney warm mittens to hide icy cold hands,
They wear masks that show hollow happiness,
And speak loudly of dry and dark jokes.
Broken hearts are masters at deceiving  others.

But broken hearts don't do well when in confined spaces,
Pinned against one another,
Confronting emotions at 2am
With other broken hearts.
Fueled by alcohol, raw emotions and fiery desires,
Broken hearts tell all and broken hearts cry hard,
Telling one another of their pain and sorrow,
And embracing till dawn.

Broken hearts oh broken hearts,
You will never say,
But all you want to be,
Is to be whole, again, hey?

Agreement

So close yet so far, so far yet so close,
The war between the hearts and the minds,
Peace treaties involving two souls,
Questions and answers,
Negotiating on nothing more than just contented emotions and unspoken promises,
That the eyes exchange.

Should we revisit this agreement in a years time?
Are we both winners in the end?
Or will we end up walking through doors,
Till the very last locked one?
Will it still be permissible to dream of wide green fields,
And to sing to our hearts content under the stars,
Without throwing glass onto each other's path?
Or am I over analysing it again?

Sign here? Sign where? Sign there?!
Invisible ink, no dotted lines, seal it all with a pinky promise, swear up to the skies,
For they don't need to know,
We don't need to know.
For now.

With confusion and perplexing expectations,
Unbeknownst truth and buried confessions,
All hanging right in our faces,
We walk hand-in-hand,
As if nothing to be uttered,
To have vanilla ice cream after this trial is over,
And stride into a world we have ventured, yet somehow this quest seemed to be impossible.

With your haunting smile and those electric touches,
I know this is my end, and that you will be my death,
But right now,
My world here, as small as it is,
Seem to be so full and complete,
With you.
And for now, I'm just killing time,
Just like you.

Q&A

Why does the silence feel comfortable, like second skin?
Why does it feel absolutely normal to be on my own?
Why does the emptiness feel fulfilling?
Why does it feel good to just stare into the sky?

Has the mind finally accepted the terms of this agreement?
Has the heart stopped detesting the absence of conversations?
Has the body forgotten the caress of the others,
And only recalls that one person's touch?
Has the ice, cold core now turned frail with warmth and colours?

Why does waiting now make one contented ?
Why does waiting now keep one motivated?
Why does waiting now keep one excited?

How does one explain the longing for those lips,
But still never questioning when the end would come?

Maybe,
It's those flashbacks of memories to keep me company,
It's those past conversations ringing in my ears,
It's your voice that keeps echoing in my mind,
That have been assuring enough.

Maybe,
With just the idea of your presence,
And the idea of living and enjoying the passing moment,
Have been essential in keeping me sane.

And maybe,
Just maybe, deep down,
I almost am sure,
That you feel the absolute reflection of how I feel,
And knowing that you will return soon,
To the same place where bodies glided the whole night through,
Where, conversations exchanged,
Stories unfolded and souls unearthed,
Are the only reasons I ever needed.

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Hypnotised

How is it possible for the mind to be conscious,
Yet senses are forgotten,
And the menacing sound of the silence becomes second nature,
With the presence of it's passion?

How does one explain such tunnelled visions,
When one's eyes can see vast horizons,
And still selectively choose to observe,
What it's core desires?

How is this reality when the earth creaks,,
As mobile feet roam wide distances,
and time runs wild,
But chooses to acknowledge only the presence,
Of what it craces to touch?

Does my presence nullify your existence?
Does my voice silence the commotion in your head?
Does my touch weakens your imagination and logic?
Like you do, to me?

Surrounded by the hullabaloo of options and questions,
Palpable emotions shouldn't be the turning point of the chapter.
'So have a seat, lady', you say,
'And have coffee with me', you say,
'And let's digest the ambiance around us', you say,
'With hearts full of patience and doubt?', I say,
'With echoes of the past ringing in your your years?', I say,

Skin on skin caress, soft lips lock, before the whole world resumes its pace again.

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

The mermaid and the man

As I walk towards my flight,
Your hollow voice sings lullabies of the night,
Of forgotten memories of the sun,
Of silent dreams of the stars,
Of tales of the moody moon in milk,
Of joyous laughter of the satellites.

My eyes see glimpses of anguish and pain,
Of every shade of red, blue and yellow,
Of every dimension of your cavernous soul,
Of every inch of that last embrace,
Of every, bloody cell of that taciturn heart of yours.

In the purple rain and under teary, blood skies,
The unseen, broken arrows lead the plane into the unknown,
Where fate, destiny and courage are imprisoned,
Expectations are forever binding,
And sorrow is inevitable.

At the funerals of emotions, affinity and shared dreams,
You stand close-by, offering dead roses to their loved ones,
To all the eyes that meet the scene, they offer frowns and condolences,
When in reality, hearts are thankful the cards were dealt,
And no more bets were to be made.

Before pricking your finger on the thorns of bitter regret,
You kiss my eyebrows and offered one last, ice-cold embrace.

On a secluded spot,
Where pastel-coloured paintings of the vast scenery could be observed,
Of the majestic mountain tips where the unknown heights meet mysterious constellations,
With skylines as bright as amber,
And glaring, clear rivers flow,
You take my hand,
and swayed to the song of The Goodbye

Closing my eyes and trusting this dance,
We waltz on the blooming spring bed,
Accompanied by the sound of our heartbeats, the laughter of cowards and the howling of our failures,
Satisfying our lust for one another.

In the nick of time, the ambiance shifted.
For what was colourful and sentimental,
is now an abrupt, blinding dark hole.
Whispering in a daft and frozen breath,
'Perfect things never last',
You push me hard down the clifftop
and into oblivion and perpetual darkness.

As I close my eyes and accept my end,
I send you one last flying kiss,
And then finally, finally,
I am swallowed by death.

Crossroads

Noisy daylight and silent rush hour traffic in this new space,
In oceans of people, you stand with a hollow soul,
As waves of confusion crash on those eroded shores,
Emeralds, pearls, rubies and jades,
Streams of precious stones from your point of view,
Vast horizons and limitless skies before you,
One part of you excited, the other one, cold as ice.

Enthusiasm seem far-fetched,
Agony and pain are permanent residents,
Anguish and torment your imposing neighbours,
Joy and love no longer in the same zipcode.

Do you regret it now, trading poised campervans for void mansions?
Does your $20 nicoise salad taste like instant $2 ramen?
Would you rather walk barefooted on polluted tar grounds,
Than promenande on manicured grass of that enclosure?

Is this the reality of the back door?
Is this the masked nightmare everyone yearns for?

Standing before your whole world,
Close your grey eyes,
It will all be over in one jump.

Muse

How does one not dwell,
When one has kissed the stars and embraced the moonlight?

How does one keep a secret,
When an angel is her playmate and the Garden of Eden, her fort?

Tell me,
How should one behave when butterflies surround her vision,
when rainbows decorate her heart?

Tell me,
To whom should I seek help, to whom should I write to,
For my everbroken soul needs refuge from the past,
and yearsn to start anew with you

Should I call you,  or should I wait for the sun to set?
Should I tell you, or should I wait till you dream tonight?
This longing I have cannot be contained, cannot be advised
All I need is a glimpse of paradise,
That will be seen through your eyes.