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Hartaz Kaur Dec 2018
Sweet mutterings and promising vows
Tightly held hands, manoeuvring all bends

Exchanging confidences of lifelong affinities
Forming a morally binding, spiritual entity

Then aimlessly wandering solo on his journey
A foreign body, piques his curiosity

The protesting of one and the persisting of another
A maniacal passion, melting honour to error

He returns to her with marks not her own
Indelible upon her heart, hurt she's not known

As he sits by the fire and laments his folly
He is forever engulfed, in the abyss of her memory
The folly of many ever since mankind's conceptualisation and enforcement of a commitment, always spelling out the same ending.
Hartaz Kaur Dec 2018
Particles collate, clouds gather
An uprising it seems, stronger together
Resolute it stands, till it holds no further
As any body collapses, under mounting pressure

Little drops to torrential downpour
The inconvenience it brings, just what we abhor
Struggle we must with virtuous patience
If we are to enjoy befallen petrichor

Trees are fed, flowers bloom
From this garden, brilliance loom
As all things present, this too is transient
A reality so poignant, about an existence impermanent

Leaves frail, flowers wither
Consumed by soil from which it consumed
No such thing as eternal bliss
Such are the laws of our symbiosis

We arrive from dust and depart as stench
A reality from which, we shouldn't flinch
As we gaze into a horizon so eternal
All we have, are moments so ephemeral
“The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.” ― Alan Wilson Watts

"We arrive from dust and depart as stench" - Words not my own. Can't rem where I picked it up from
Hartaz Kaur Oct 2018
Your hand in mine
Speaking comfort words
I don’t know you
But somehow I know you
You’re not anywhere
But somehow you’re somewhere
Speaking comfort words
Your hand in mine
Hartaz Kaur Oct 2018
If your gaze was ink
What stories — would it write
And if I should read those words
How then — should I read them right
Hartaz Kaur Oct 2018
the wipers are tired
the screen a blur
my mind pleads for rest
for in judgement I err
Hartaz Kaur Oct 2018
Day by day I fritter away
Upholding decorum as best I may
Meet me as you meet — reserved somebody
Leave me as you leave — dull nobody

Dreary, weary, listless, spiritless
A resting spirit clamours to emerge
Unguided, wild, free and seeking
Boldly defying reserved somebody

But how, just how do I unleash this defiant spirit
For it is to cross all conceivable limits
Oh but a mask, of course a mask!
The perfect accessory for this task!

Careless of propriety
Boastful of daring
Acting against my will
Or in tandem with it?

This mask — just now I can't discern
Ponder I do with great concern
Does it shield my identity
Or render truth to it?

So now just what fun in masks
One may ponderously ask

Masks, bring to life fantasy
Fantasy, a realm of our reality
Reality, wherein lies multiplicity
Multiplicity, within each individuality
This poem takes a different view on a mask. Does it shield who we are? Or does it allow us to be who we truly are?

Isn't it ironic fantasy too is part of human reality? A realm revealing psychological truths.

Masks addresses the various facets of a personality. Our fragmented identities. Multiplicity in individualities.

Halloween is round the corner. If you had the chance, who would be the Hyde to your Jekyll?
Hartaz Kaur Oct 2018
When Jho go Low,
Najib go High
Inspired by Michelle Obama
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