Must I fight for peace
When I never stood a chance
Must I fight this beast
Must I kill a man
To reawaken my conviction
To cast my pain aside
Must I try to hide it
Or should I just die
Swallow every pill
To kill me slowly
Saving my demise for my one and only
Screaming out the truth silently inside
Dying a little bit every time
I wish this loud voice in my head could be silenced
But hate is love
And heaven is violence
"The next speech to be given
Is one we need to hear
I'd like to call on William
Who has overcome his fear
William, please come forward
And take your place with me
And children, listen closely
As we let dear William be...."
William then ventured forth
From the back where he sat
He was dressed in a long jacket
And a worn out stove top hat
Before he started talking
More instructions were delivered
"Don't laugh, or talk or clap people...."
While at the front William shivered...
The class went deadly quiet
And William went to speak
No one could quite hear him
His voice was soft and meek
"Four Thcore and Theven yearth ago
Our fatherth brought forth
Upon thith continent
A new nathion, conthieved in liberty.."
William finished speaking
The class just sat there dumb
No one knew this William
From where had this one come
Each year in school since JK
Willaim rarely said a word
And if he ever answered
No one really heard
But today...today he was a hero
Standing proud in his black hat
He had stunned them into silence
Knocked them dead just where they sat
He practiced with the teacher
Every afternoon at home
He worked on words in secret
When he was sitting all alone
The Gettysburg Address
Never, sounded quite as great
As when recited by young William
This young man in grade eight
He had broken his long silence
As the year came to an close
By reciting Old Abe Lincoln
In his black and borrowed clothes
He'd defeated all his demons
Showed his lisp just who was king
Now he ventured into high school
And the worst that it could bring
The bell went off, class was dismissed
The silence was now burst
The children stood to exit
And they let William leave class first
The streets of Cleveland were cluttered with hatred
Night skies were set aglow by U.S. Steel
Lake Erie was a stagnant toxicity
47 Wilson was the home with curb appeal.
A short decade of winters I spent there
Cancer took him away at thirty-three
Yet... in his suffering he voiced a hopeful plan
That required me to move to the mountains
He must of known the mountains would bring healing
To this broken girl slightly shy a teen
Through the hills his voice whispered sweet comfort
And eased my anxiousness and erased my bad dreams.
Safety paved each road and rolled every pasture
Stars filled the darkest skies and the streams were pristine
There my home stood at the end of a hollow
With a swing on the porch picturesquely, primitively serene.
For this, and too countless the reasons
I cling to the hills when I've lost all sense of "me"
For in the mountains my "me" questions are answered
And in them,
I reclaim sanity.
I don't wanna remember those three terrible nights
It was a time when I never even knew the time
There were a lot of people, but two stood out the most
They didn't realize it, but the traumatized me
They wouldn't leave me alone
They wanted "hugs"
They said they loved me, but it was clear
No sign of affection was ever there
I don't wanna remember my messed up mind
13 months in treatment made my mind right
I will never forget those 3 terrible nights
Sitting there unknowing when they were coming
All that mattered to them was the "hugs" and the drugs
i used to go to my grandmother's house during the summer
and in her backyard, behind all the trees
was a river
some days it'd be weak
sitting still without interruption
some days it'd be violent
crashing against the bank
and one day
i was laying by the river
watching it flow by to somewhere i couldn't see
and i stuck my hand in the water
and it rushed between my finger tips
i heard my grandmother shout,
"try to hold the river back"
and i laughed "i can't do that grandma"
and i pulled my hand out
a year after i went to my grandmother's house for the summer
and in her back yard some of the trees
had snapped and fallen over
but there was still the river
and it was gentle
i kneeled down by the river
and stuck my hand in the water
it danced around my finger tips
and i shouted
i can hold the river back grandma
and she smiled softly, "that's lovely"
and she walked out
today i went to my grandma's house
and in her back yard the trees
were rotting away and everything was silent
but there was still the river
as if it absorbed every bit of life that had once existed around it
and it was trashing viciously
like a dog wanting to be let from its cage
and i stood staring at the water
and thought of summer
i heard myself saying
"try to hold your river back"
and i couldn't
It's those moments, when we're laying in the bed.I kiss your shoulder and you know what I meant.
Look me in the eyes and smile that perfect smile.
You kiss the top of my head and you're driving me wild.
I can only have these moments with you.
I've never felt this way, never felt so safe.
I've never tried so hard to wait.
And when I start to worry, that you might leave me lonely.
I remember all-nighters on my sisters couch, the first time that you took me out.
The way you held me when I cried and stood beside me all damn night.
Promise that you would stay and anyways...
I can only have these moments, with you.
I can only feel this way, for you.
Only think all day about you.
And the truth is, if you asked for the truth, I'd lie.
But I think I'll love you till the day I die.
A misplaced Oxford Comma
Lead to perilous trauma
She drifted into an Oggsford Coma
Then turned into an awful aroma
The Ceremony held in 1980
Resurrected in 1 A.D
In the lumbering town of Hudson's Bay
Majorie chose to stay
Never feeling so free
She sat within a tree
Enjoying all she could see
The girl decided never to flee
Established in 1995
This dream came Alive
A tree home called heaven
Would stand until 1997
Slim used to be a Jackline Skinner
Lumberjack was more of a winner
Quickly forgot all about Walden Pond
Long before a new light dawned
"The wind that blows
Is all that anybody knows"
Even goes for pros
Or vacant minded 'hoes'
Just patiently listen to those
Who know where a dick goes
Don't make needless foes
Leave that for the 'pros'
Slim stood uttering horrible slurs
At the request of a woman in expensive furs
Majorie stood on bended knee
Pleading for them to leave her tree
As she reached the bottom of the ladder
Silence was breached by a clatter
All the rats began to scatter
Knowing exactly what was the matter
The lumberjack had missed his mark
Added slightly too much ark
Caused the Oak to prematurely tumble
Left Slim's body to instantly crumble
The last few passengers hopped on catching their breaths with a huff and a puff and taking the remaining seats where they could, while handling their bags in one hand and their mufflers and hats with the other. It was just an ordinary day for them. A day when work and reaching their office on time was the only thing they could think about. A day when half their time on the launch was spent worrying if the Tiffin box packed so lovingly by their wives toppled over to create a mess. A day when they couldn't stop and stare. A day when materialism came before appreciating nature’s beauty.
Kolkata woke up one fine chilly morning to a sky set ablaze. There was always something about Kolkata and its lights that intrigued me. The perfection with which every corner was lit just as much as it should be, the hidden eye candy which could only be seen if you look into your soul to appreciate. Worshipers from all over flocked to the ghats to offer their prayers. And with the mindless honking of the city behind them and the open river in front, they dipped themselves in continuously to be forgiven of their sins. As they lifted their folded hands above their heads to pray and dipped themselves, they made the water all around them make huge ripples which were lost in the vastness of the mighty river. And with that, they were forgiven of their wrong doings, or at least that’s what they believed.
The engines roared to life as one of the crew, miserably opened the ropes and threw them on board after ringing a bell. I stood in one corner of the launch eyeing Kolkata, taking every bit of it in - its morning awakening, its old red bricked buildings, or at least the ones which still stood straight, its ghats green with moss and over crowded with devotees, its icy cold winter morning, and the current of the river beneath the launch floor. Kolkata had woken up to one of the coldest days in recent history. 9 degrees and the wind was up. On the Ganga it felt as if I had come away to some faraway land, away from the hustle and bustle of the city, to find peace. Silence surrounded me and the only sound faintly audible was the low whistle of the breeze brushing past my cheeks kissing them which felt like tiny needles poking me all at once.
The water looked like liquid glass, floating away to infinity and beyond, as far as my eyes took my vision. As the launch turned to face its destination the Howrah Bridge came into view. Standing tall with its two gigantic pillars the sun peeped from between the cables to shine on the water creating a river of gold while the sun’s reflection seemed a ball of fire just within our reach. The bridge cast huge shadows causing a sudden darkness to arise in the water which otherwise seemed ablaze.
Across the river the world waiting for me felt distant. Was civilization actually that beautiful? Or did nature just wrap its covers around to hide the flaws of mankind, his ruthlessness, his ignorance towards other beings and its lack of humanity? The dashes of green popped out of the corners of towering buildings, as sun cast its golden rays on them creating shadows on the opposite side.
The small boats sailed on as the launch took me from bank to bank. The rowers sat at the back on the edge with their rows half immersed in the water. And as the currents made them flow by, the ripples came and hit our launch and travelled back into the vastness and disappeared. They sailed through the disturbed water, and its shadows sailed alongside. The rivers serenity was contrasted with the blobs of weed floating by, entangled with driftwood and mixed with shiny cloths, probably the leftovers of the previous durga puja celebrations.
The sky was a game of colors by now. The sun, still a ball of fire, was slowly creeping upwards, the light grey clouds just behind it shot rays of gold down through the gaps they found on the world below, the sky otherwise was a play of grey, blue, red and orange set in order from the ground upwards without a definite point of distinction. A group of three birds, crows most probably, flew overhead enjoying the sun’s late arrival to the cold morning.
My hands reached for the railing. I gripped the rods tightly looking for security. I looked around me to spot the different lives sailing with me. Some on their phones, some sat with their eyes glued to the cold blank floor, as if they didn’t deserve to be uplifted by nature’s display of her beauty, some staring down at their watches to scrutinize each second to realize how late there were while others stood with a blank expression staring out onto the river, probably going over what they did wrong, playing the images on repeat, making themselves miserable. Me? I stood leaning on the railing looking out also. But I wasn’t in my misery. My misery was behind me. I looked forward to life. And for now I looked forward to my destination. And amongst the crowd I was alone. This was my moment and mine alone. No one could have robbed me of this moment, and no one can make me forget.
The river gave me peace of mind. Its tranquility and its continuity made an energy of constancy flow within me. A belief that this too shall pass, that every moment shall pass. Never ending was its path. A path which life had chosen. Who are we to disrupt it? Who are we to stop? Life flowed on. And times were not always smooth sailing. There will be waves rocking you, making you lose your balance, there will be rocks at the bottom, sometimes holding you together while other times damaging your base. With time and distance the river will get polluted, but it all depends on what you want to show and what you choose to see. It will be used, to its maximum capacity, with only a handful of souls to stop and think about it and do something about it to the best of their abilities. Things varying in all sizes will cross it, sail by without paying any heed to the water beneath it making them sail smoothly, never appreciating it, and soon it becomes a part of them which they pay no attention to it. It will always be there though. Its existence will always prevail over it being ignored. And when you stop to think, it’ll be there pushing you along the way, to your destination, where you will have to say goodbye to the picture perfect moments, the soul touching feelings and the voice within you which screams in its silence to set yourself free.
Yes its something i scribbled here and there a long time ago
A dark night dawned upon us as i found myself on a little boat decorated with little lights and me and my heart throb stood facing the wide open sea. we didn’t speak. didn’t move. didn’t blink. i soaked the sweet smell of the sea and let the wind into my hair. then we slowly climbed into the ice cold waters. we looked into each other’s eyes and just stayed as we were. an invisible element slowly but gradually pulled us apart and no matter how much i tried swimming, my body was possessed by the unknown.
he drifted apart, away and in the dark, desolate night, and i found myself at sea. with no one to save me.
i woke up to find myself on the floor near the entrance of my house door. my eyes were heavy with dried tears and my body ached. i felt empty, hollow, like something was missing.
yes. the boy i loved was a nightmare to me. just like every other nightmare, you end up either screaming or crying.
sleepless nights are more preferred to than this, don't you think?
Like the turning sheets
of a monthly calender,
life has layers after layers.
How would he know that ,
just a callow youth on sea shore
playing with smooth pebbles,
that was when he saw her first.
She was the woman who
taught him, whole cities lay merged
within a woman, like wave after wave,
of inhabitants over time, leave their
archaeological markers of periods,
she was a mystery like life itself.
There is no way to decipher.
They first met
in the city of light,
Diwali lamps were lit
in all courtyards,
It was an immortal moment
in his life, he realized,
leading him gently to the light
which evaded him though he assiduously sought,
she parted without a word
Did she belong to someone else?
The city of sorrow,
yet again brought them face to face
Ridden with angst of existence
he stumbled, was about to fall, then
he could experience her iron will
more than a woman, she stood, like a pillar of strength,
she took his weary head in both hands, pressed to her breast,
pulled out the crown of thorns, their paths
diverged again, inexplicably complex, was their relationship.
In the city of guilt,
an unexpected meeting again,
they were surprised. Here, they were on their own.
They wanted to take their lives in their hands,
in spite of the currents that pulled them to different directions.
But he knew all the while that her self, was divided between
three cities within in her.They co-existed, Light.Guilt.Sorrow
will their love survive? Not all loves are intended to live long,
a parrot in his tree of loneliness always whispered.He pretended he didn't hear,
A game of dice, almost was their lives, mysterious forces did bet on their love,
Having traveled through fire and water, she was beyond pleasure and pain,
Kali with a fiery nose stud, female power that overcomes all pain,
she became, that shattered his dreams for them.
He was thankful, to be awakened by her,
the light she lit, burned bright, within.
Now or never.He crossed the river.
Deliverance comes from an inner source,
otherwise all will end as an idiot's tale
Her flame lighted his wick, liberated him.
Fire spitting dragons one can tame,
but in the duel with demons of life,
it could be a blood letting end,
call it play of chance or what ever
they are the easy game here
He packed his backpack and
started to move eastwards,
Westward bound was she, invariably,
her heart had still a song left for him,
the void was filled, the pain was stilled
with anesthetics of mind.
Just for one last time they went to the beach,
watching the sunset was their good bye to each other.
They never met again.