Nothing lands here anymore
Except swallows and sparrows:
The fields cannot remember
The last airplane that landed
On what was once an airport.

The runways have slowly yielded
Inch by inch, every corner,
To hungry weeds and silent woods;
The tufts of coarse September grass
Have reclaimed most of the land.

The wind blows through the wild grass.
Twittering larks have replaced
The cough of busy engines;
Only wild flowers and prickly weeds
Bear testimony to this change.

In the overgrown sal thickets
An owl proclaims what is obvious:
Nothing really was meant to last.
In the end there’s always change.
And that is fair compensation.

Diptesh Ghosh

To say it was
"At first sight"
Would be a lie.
I can recall
The sweet look upon your face.
The good-intentioned cool guy.
The offhanded wave
You casually tossed in my direction,
When we were forced
To sit together in the office.
And that day
For the first time
I shaped your name with my lips,
And held your gaze.
I had no interest,
You were too cool for someone
Like me.
And I could never know you, really.
And all
Had
Begun.

alone, alone
is where I will always be
stuck in a memory
living in the past

where are the happier days
they seem so lost
or maybe I'm blocking them
with my mind that I've lost

friends are fake
they will only wait
once you've baked the cake
and then they'll run

they'll run away
they can't stop to chat
because really
you never even knew them at all

that's when it sinks in
you've no-one to turn to
you realise who you've become
alone

Miss Percival's famous jell-o molds were
the talk of every summer block party.
No one was sure where she had come up with
exotic shapes that adorned red benches
robins, and faces of famous people
they really were a thing to be envied.

One Memorial Day, though, there came a shriek from Miss Percival's kitchen
and the flowery curtains shuffled as they did so

The first ones in (the couple that brought the waldorf salad every year. It was good, but it was nothing next to Miss P's jell-o molds)
were Mr. and Mrs. Carroway
Mrs. Carroway almost fainted when she saw what was on the counter

You see, Miss Percival was fond of one site for her molds
and they shipped them in every month in big brown crates
there was a big brown crate, to be sure
but no mold inside

It isn't proper to gossip, but I heard that it was a bowl full of eyeballs;
A medical school had put the wrong address on their order.
I bet that there was a confused batch of medical students
being stared at by a jell-o model of Walter Cronkite.

here we go again
that's what they say
when they hear things
about me anyway

they are true of course
every part
the stories, the mischief
the betrayal of the heart

you don't know me
and I don't know you
so why are we still here
saying things out of the blue

you don't like me
but you don't want to say
all of the things
that will cause me pain

you want to be the nice person
you race for people's love
but you're not really all you say you are
you really want to give me a shove

so here I am again
on the floor, crying
because words hurt
even if you are lying

I often write about you
Creating an imaginary scene for us both
I know,call me sentimental
Or emotional,either really
But isn't this what they call dreaming?
Building clouds of invisible nines
Where you kiss me
And say "You know,I think I really like you."
Or the days we might grow old together
Sit by the porch
Listen to the music
You swore you would play for me
(I want to hold your hand)
I can already see
The letters you've written to me
Telling me of all the adventures
You want to go with me
Exploring every part of New York
Because that's the place we both love
And as I walked down the aisle
I know that every sadness I've ever felt about us
Would just drift off
As we say "I do."
Perhaps our first kiss
Would not be like the movies
We would be awkward
And laugh at ourselves
For thinking too much
Sometimes I would get paranoid
And try to keep you tighter by my side
But understand that
I only do that because I truly love you
The worst that could happen
In this dream
Is that we break up
And our hands touch for the last time
A goodbye peck on the cheek
"Stay friends okay?"
And we go in different directions
Becoming strangers again

Im drowning
In
A sea of tissues
And Im not even sure if it’s the flu anymore

Im just sitting here
Behind a screen
Helpless
And unable to do a thing

I really wish I could just
Bring you out of that mess
But alas
Life doesn’t work that way

So don’t worry darling
Don’t fret
For I understand
And I don’t mind
If
You
Can’t
Say
Anything

Because I know
You are still
Alive and well
And that you still
Have the other mam
To talk to

I wish I was there though
To catch those
Precious
Tears

I really wish I could

If any of us felt the cold of the sun
We didn't let ourselves know it until the end of the day.
We didn't let ourselves show it until May was over.
No one ever let slip the ideas or the we we're stuck inside a supernova.

Nothing came between us on those Spring afternoons,
Or in those twisted nights where we turned into loons,
When the clock started to move backwards and something was expressed,
Something wrapped up in foil kept cold and compressed.
But somewhere out there in the back of our minds,
the message was sent with the passing of time.

Everything is as it should be simply because it is,
How we express ourselves is like when we were kids.
And sometimes when the lights are out and the curtains drawn,
Something comes stirring that doesn't rest until dawn,
What it is I can't quite place,
But it lurks on as I motion from place to place

When this is over and I am elsewhere,
I'll look back and wonder why it is that I care,
Being on some distant plain I shall digress.
And hope that the animal in my mind can finally rest.

Words are misgiving and maybe I've said too much,
But I continue to write and I think its not such.
So whatever I draw from this somewhere down the line,
I can carry on going because everything really is fine.

And this life I live is so uniquely mine.