People were playing two truths one lie,
We had to figure out which two are truths & which one lie.
They were thinking out in their minds which one to tell,
But i was thinking which one to hide!
Someone said they peed on pants, kissed some guy, dated a smuggler so on and so forth it went.
Finally it was my turn.
I had to speak up which I never ever do whatever is inside.
I can't say I rode on an ambulance with a person who was about to die,
can't say I loved men who were into other stuffs,
or I have smoked, drank and danced with a stranger.
I can't tell whether there is anything left in my life except work and a little bit of creativity inside.
I can't tell I was bitten by a white huge swan because I was running behind her at that time.And I love walking down the streets alone at midnight.
I can't tell all these so I kept quiet.
So I kept on thinking for a safer option and said I had never climbed a hill,
I hate reading books and I love using Facebook out of which all three were a lie.
I see people they speak up and never care a bit,
Whereas I'm here trying fit in!
The most distinct thing for me
is the dead silence
the sky becomes engulfed in.
The bitter grip of inaudible ice
shattered by a sharp snap of a
branch, echoing in its despair as it
can no longer accept the burden
of the white weights.
But my favorite is after the
impact disturbs solemn ground,
the earth swallows in silence
as if nothing happened at all.
Behind every dusty picture frame
And written on every window pane
Within this empty house of mine
You will find
The quiet little secrets which I left inside
Before I moved back to the city
To a place where I needed to be
In order to continue my life of ease
There are words within me
that flow through keys into music,
or ink into paper,
when I write the ballads of sadness and love
that are contained inside my head,
yet nothing comes to my tongue
when I stand in front of you.
I have never been verbal,
one of the poets who stands
and speaks their beauty to others, tongues
of silk weaving their words into impermanent art
that will soon be forgotten.
Instead, I write poetry
which your eyes will never see
in the hopes that I will find a way
of saying how you make me feel inside.
The way you capture me
and manage to see me as an entirely new being.
The way you make my laugh permanent
with a single image, childish and playful.
The way you are so unapologetically you.
All of it.
I want something just like this,
I want everything like this,
and I don't know how to say it.
"Tonight," you said, "I only please you."
"But, the catch is I'll start out slow, and when you moan I'll go faster. And if you talk I'll go faster than when you moan."
Oh, what did I do to deserve you
I thought, with a huge smile on my face
may be heavy with water
but it is strong.
My voice carries.
It carried my burdens
when my shoulders weren't strong enough.
It carried ships of men over the edge
because they wouldn't pull over
and ask for directions.
It carried far enough
to pull you into my currents
so you could draw a map
of my cliffs and trenches
and never lose your bearings.
A grocery store at 2am on Tuesday
Is as beautiful as the forest
On October 26th.
As much an oasis
As the chain of lakes.
I love the quiet spaces
I love the empty places
Where I can pretend
I'm looking at the ghost
Of mankind long since passed.
On a long stretch of country road
Driving on the last tank of gas.
Sun-bleached canary-yellow lines
Will never be repainted.
But, god, they are beautiful.
My childhood is void of people.
There's a filter in my memories.
Color and light and temperature,
But never any sound
And very little movement.
The photographs in my album:
The sherbet-colored sky.
A chain link fence and gravel alley.
The warmth of the light.
The size of my hands.
The snow deepens
As if foreordained
Each flake finds its nest
Such teamwork must be unrivaled
The dreary landscape is now disguised after autumn’s windy scratch
The yellow dog bounces through the undisturbed white blanket
his black nose searching for purpose in this curiosity
A snowflake lands on my lips
I bid welcome to the quiet