Good god that laugh

I can feel you every day

Just open your mouth

And please don’t ever go away

Somewhere
a kitchen light still glows
on an immense orange cat
waiting to scour both dog bowls
for leftovers
that have yet to appear
after even a single meal.
Twilight throwing
lavender shadows
across the cramped
polaroid drenched kitchen
where you slow danced
to something acoustic
before saying your first goodbye
on a bare concrete balcony
studded with cigarette ash
and stars.

Rigid reactions, raw religion
redacting life's riots,
mercilessly.
Emotional rollercoaster,
roars of despair, ready rites,
endlessly.

The world paints over whatever it wants over you like you are an empty canvas, Its upto you to stay vigilant and selectively absorb what you need rather than what you're forced with.

Find your direction, find your sense of perfection redefine yourself to be the art you dream of.

She sits there hoping not to be notice.
Waiting every second to burst out of her bubble but not knowing where it will take her.
Ever knowing when to jump to the next step too afraid to fail.
Seconds are feeling like months, trying soo hard to leave a broken city.
Dreaming for the days when everyone will know her name.
Each day is a step towards her goals not letting one in her way.
Making new friends to fill the gaps of losing everyone she knew.
Parents that bully instead of support but just enough to make her work harder to reach her dreams.

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

I sometimes feel I'm an annoyance
And sometimes comes very often
And often I feel I'm not good enough
Even though I give my all
All is just a bit too much
It sometimes feels so overwhelming
And sometimes comes very often

They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love."
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."

please leave me alone
to walk these pathways solo
I was hoping you wouldn't notice
but I think you already know

I know I have problems
and I'm trying to fix them
but what words can be enough
for a desire to even say them

for every time I open my mouth
I wish that I had closed it
remembering the times I messed things up
and the disappearing moments

I give far too much
and I know that I shouldn't
cause I have nothing left to give
so at least I know I'm used to it

throw the page away
so you can make the same mistakes
tear the edges so it frays
i just want my hand to fade

if ever

you don’t

feel

like you have a home,

pull me close,

wrap your arms around me,

rest your head on my chest,

close your eyes,

and feel the warmth of the fireplace

resonating from within my heart.

I broke too much
of myself
thinking someone
could fix me.

I should have not
turned myself
to pieces
in the first place.

Because no one
would ever keep
a broken mirror
in their pockets.

Wrap me up in your words
Bury me in the warmth of you
Until I’m left with your scent for days
As I fall in love with you all over again

you gave me a word to hold onto
it got me through the night
felt nice for a while
but we both know this isn't right
keeping your distance is a crime
I know this by the hurt in my chest
someone's placed you here in front of
me as a torturing test
you've put a gun to my head and I'm asking to die
for the sake of being dead
what I would do for you to crawl out of her
and into my bed

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

Everything that’s ever happened to me or that I’ve done wasn’t important
It was just something to live through

Before you go,
Can I get one more kiss?
Will you tell me about your day?
And about your tomorrow too?
And could you maybe stick around
Just long enough to share
Every day of my life with you?

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

we were silent
we took a hit we were tired
we were already stagnant
we were a bay that no one has ever visited

it rained a lot
but we were dry

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

Before we meet
I'd like to send parting gifts.
To my mother,  
To my grey dog,
To the sparkling sea,
To the brown eyed woman,
To my guardian angels,
I'd like to journey
Into the heart of their being
And get drunk in celebration
Then letting it all fade to black

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

Not every woman finds the bus driver of her dreams.
Familiarity breeds contempt during a bus trip.
Your bus driver loves you and always will!
Someone had to say it and I'm glad that it was me.
If I married a bus driver, and he was a woman, I'd love him a lot.

left me empty
now leave me hollow
regret and guilt
just pills to swallow
learned to breathe
under the ocean
paper doll
going through the motions

i do not believe in god
but i do believe in poetry
and for me
maybe poetry is prayer
and the universe
is an unwavering ear
in the shape of a god

Remember when we used to keep waving at each other  until we were out of sight
When I used to bike across the city to see you
Laughed until we cried
Drank until we danced
These memories fill me
And Gush out
Late night car rides  
lonely train rides
dark bike rides
My mind riddled with your face
The peachy sunsets
And glittering stars are there to comfort me
The burning sun in the deep blue sky push me
The cotton candy clouds engulf me
“It’s just me now”
My eyes filled with tears now
the music soothes me to sleep
You’re so far now
And it’s because of me
I’m sorry
So sorry
Some times I just really want you back….

There is nothing more time wasting than thinking about the right time

How do I go about shedding the shells
that earned me a pat on the head and a "good girl"?

I was the parent's dream,
a blue-ribbon giftee
of civility,
the picture of obedience,
​and oh so mature!
The 'quiet child' cachet was my only allure.

This caged bird didn't sing
of sentiments and other sinful things,
but spent decades nesting feelings.

When all alternatives felt illicit,
I reserved my torments for exclusive exhibitions,
where I held the only ticket.
Those showcased, glass displays are my poems now,
I've stuffed them with secrets I can't talk about,
but can write down.

Do the people who raised me deserve an applause?
I've got songs dancing in my head and they're the cause
of my closet of flaws.
Would I even have it in me if I was a happy child,
bold and wild?
They say art is for those who've lived in the rain;
Well, I've had my cup of it
and I guess, this is my exchange.


Copyright © 2021 by S. Y. Kalindara. All rights reserved.