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1.2k · Aug 2021
Sky.
Kairosclere Aug 2021
I cried a few times
When the sky did too
And decided
That the sky reflects my mood.
Today, the sky cried,
And I cried with it too,
I took it upon myself
To reflect the sky's mood.
Well, I didn't cry but seemed like a nice thing to write about. Also because I wanna post something nice next lol.
1.2k · Jun 2021
Bland.
Kairosclere Jun 2021
I refrained from reading
Books of poetry
Due to a festering fear
Of confirmation
Of my subpar talent.
With hesitation,
I opened my first,
And what an interesting surmise
Our poems
Were all equally bland.
If I go down y'all are going down with me.
*angelic smile*
750 · Jun 2020
A cat and his cub.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
This, a story
Of love and endurance
A survival match
Among the wilderness
Away
From a house displaced
Lived a cat
Out of place,
In this cruel world.
He changed his hues
Constantly
Trying to fit in
This troubled cat,
Only to seek a soul
Much like its own.
He loitered about
Day and night long
Picked prey by hounds
Clean, from all use,
By these bunch of hyenas
That saw the cat
As everything
But their own.
Trying to escape
With each tick of the clock
From an inescapable fate
Which led him
To his cub.
As their eyes met,
Their souls intertwined,
He had found his world
Alas, one he could
Never call "mine"
With the days
Of their lives
Brimming with joy
The cat found himself,
Rediscovered, stupefied.
He decided
That a life
Without her, a lioness,
Would amount to nothing,
A life given meaning
Simply with every
Breath she took.
Alas, she breathed
For her lions instead,
Where she was one
Among the royals,
As entitled.
The cat, heartbroken,
Lost himself once again
The way he claimed back
From the void
He lost, once and for all.
As his cub
Grew with grace,
Into a fearless hunter
It finally reached him
They they might
Never live together.
Yet their small lives
Are still bound
By little promises made
He is,
In her broken mirror's world,
A black cat.
603 · Jun 2020
Leaking joy.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
No one
Should leave
This house of mine
With a heavy heart
Let me
Fill your soul
With the radiant
Joy
That mine can muster
Even if it
Withers down
To its roots.
567 · Jun 2020
Dandelions.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
A mellow flower
Waving in the wind
Dried yellow
A long while ago
Yet holding on
To the plant stem
Unwilling to let go
Of its past.
530 · Feb 2021
Obscure.
Kairosclere Feb 2021
An eye for an eye
Makes this a world
Of cyclopi,
And two,
Society goes back to
Being blind.
Morbid enough? Well. Things are worse.
513 · Jun 2020
Truth and lies.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
I saw lies
Behind your smile
And truth
Behind your eyes
The ones that sparkled
Now lost their light
And a wry heart
Withered under the weight.
494 · Jun 2020
Breaths in the night.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
By the ramp of the dearly departed
Still lay his faded fingerprints
While yet another
Was thrown in the morbid bed
Still reeking
like death

The hall deserted
His breathing slow
Hope fading
The morale low
Thoughts crept
Like death

And another after another
Was thrown into the list
Ever growing
Breaths slowing
Ever reeking
Like death

Lying in a corner
Groaning beneath the mask
A soul once alive
Moaning over the past
Waiting for a cure
Like death

And one last breath
Felt in the night
He wished to be his last
He couldn't hold on
To this madness, so
Like death

There was this glimmer
A ray of light
The suffering might end
Things could go right
Maybe slowly
Like death

The world was healing
Not all hope was dead
The once confined bodies
Will rise out of bed
Defeating tragedies
Like death

With a combined might
And hope alight
Strength in prayer
And hearts twinned
The world rose up
From death.
Inspired by the pandemic.
483 · Oct 2021
Affirmation.
Kairosclere Oct 2021
I know things seem to be difficult right now.
The energy seems to be low.
I don't know, but there's something in the air.
I found a page, fall out of a book, a single line scribbled in it:
Fear of nightmares evades sleep,
And fear of problems evades life.
Everything that's hapenning right now,
Is for a reason.
Stay strong🌻
470 · Mar 2021
2.
Kairosclere Mar 2021
2.
The world is my oyster,
And the entire ocean is polluted.
The pearl inside, dead.
Your surroundings make your label, despite how "pure" you may be.
458 · May 2020
Mountains to climb.
Kairosclere May 2020
I know you’ll just be okay
When you work
Till your whole being shivers
With exhaustion
And your eyes cloud
With salty perspiration
And you push yourself
Into that one last lap
And keep pushing for another-
And yet another.
I know you won’t fall;
That much faith is essential.
And, wherever you trip,
You don’t tread on again.
With all those lessons
You’ve learned on your way,
You know you’ll just be okay.
Connect to me
Via Instagram @_kairosclere_
Via email bhama26@gmail.com
On Pinterest  @_kairosclere_
On hello poetry at https://hellopoetry.com/Kairosclere/
And my blog https://kairosclere.blogspot.com/

Make sure to subscribe to get exclusive pieces.
Thank you for reading <3
458 · Jun 2020
Closer.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
Billions of people
All over the world
Are knee deep in fear
It is but the tragedy of death
That threatens to keep
The closest near.
This worldwide pandemic
Not only a punishment,
But a time for self reflection
On all that we have done:
All the bruises we have caused
All the tears we cried.
And as nature slowly heals herself
Amidst humans
Keeping their tails in check,
Sparrow song trills once again
And swans find their home,
And as rare as the golden birds.
The human mayflies
Take in a moment and
Search themselves
Clean themselves
And stay still
For once in their lives
Waiting, watching, listening,
Growing closer hour by hour-
That all those decades running
Couldn't provide,
And retort
Back to being human again.
As nature heals her
Cuts and wounds
We, her children,
Are too birthed anew.
Written based off of the pandemic.
402 · May 2021
Fun.
Kairosclere May 2021
So many things
Are easier said than done
And maybe there's where
Half the fun lies.
Would you really value something if it were easy?
401 · Feb 2021
Doors.
Kairosclere Feb 2021
And so
Opportunities fly by
Until another
Claims what was,
No, is, yours
All because
You paused
At the threshold
Of an open door.
Ha. No regrets. Right?
The denial and "it is what it is" attitude seems to be working well in deluding myself.
387 · May 2020
Broken charcoal.
Kairosclere May 2020
Each stroke of my charcoal pencil,
Scraping against paper,
Scratched out yet another scar
Masking my feelings
As they bled on paper-
Black rivers running scarlet,
And locked it there,
A dam brimming
Unleashed,
Wiped off, in a brave
Attempt to never
Be uncovered again,
Sunken
Under alluvium.
Connect to me
Via Instagram @_kairosclere_
Via email bhama26@gmail.com
On Pinterest  @_kairosclere_
On hello poetry at https://hellopoetry.com/Kairosclere/
And my blog https://kairosclere.blogspot.com/

Make sure to subscribe to get exclusive pieces.
Thank you for reading <3
381 · May 2020
To offer myself.
Kairosclere May 2020
You need a soul to blame,
To put on your causes of adversity.
So let me offer you mine;
I might drown
Under the tedious current
But at least,
You will float.
Connect to me
Via Instagram @_kairosclere_
Via email bhama26@gmail.com
On Pinterest  @_kairosclere_
On hello poetry at https://hellopoetry.com/Kairosclere/
And my blog https://kairosclere.blogspot.com/

Make sure to subscribe to get exclusive pieces.
Thank you for reading <3
372 · May 2021
Brave New World.
Kairosclere May 2021
We wonder what the future brings to us, expecting platters of silver and gold,
Such metals, precious, shine none without the rays of the sun, now so old,
Now have this thrum of energy sounding, music that means to push and pull,
The tides and the seasons, and all the will of man, to contain, now null.

We measure cowardice by the failure of tasks, the dauntless, we praise,
Eyes glistening with hope that these men at least, may let nature’s head raise,
With forlorn yearning, no, but pride, without the prejudice, as the days of yore,
This history of ours, to recreate, and live vicariously, to forget momentarily the gore.

So we treated, owned, and *****, all that we lay eyes on - claimed ours.
And now that this planet is done and dusted, with nothing more to yield, it mourns
For a respite that we cannot help but give, for what use is a lump of gray rock,
Without sweet sin, once green and blue and colors myriad, we draped in a dreary smock.

We send them out to scout, to find new ways to plunder, and regenerate, the daring,
All these resources, all this wealth, for why would we need gold platters, it holds no meaning
Devoid of air to breathe. And so we fashion the very fabric of existence,
To prove once and for all this is a species brimming with persistence.

As man takes his steps yet again, one by one, in another planet to make ours, expectant,
Gaze a million survivors’ faces toward the nether, hope abound, victory reluctant,
We hear echoes, “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind”, all abound,
The future of this race of ruin, yet again grows roots, to fashion into a brave new world.
For the person who said they missed my long form poetry <3
371 · May 2020
Holding on.
Kairosclere May 2020
Pages hanging on
By a breadth of
A mere molecule
Paper hearts
And discarded minds
Holding on to life
By a brief tether
Sawed,
By auspicious grim.
Connect to me
Via Instagram @_kairosclere_
Via email bhama26@gmail.com
On Pinterest  @_kairosclere_
On hello poetry at https://hellopoetry.com/Kairosclere/
And my blog https://kairosclere.blogspot.com/

Make sure to subscribe to get exclusive pieces.
Thank you for reading <3
Kairosclere May 2020
We miss out days of our lives
Slipping into oblivion
Of unrequited words
That were better off unsaid,
Screamed our judgement
Every time our eyes met.
Not a word escaped
Through the iron gates.
Our inhibitions,
The castle’s gargoyles.
Holding us back,
Holding us down
Underwater
Till the world turned ugly,
Bleak and stinking
Of death;
The same as how you lay
In my arms
Unmoving and unfeeling
And now, now,
Those sly words break free
What use are those barriers now,
When you don’t exist anymore?


/written at the loss of a love unsaid/
What is your interpretation of my poem?
How does it make you feel?

Connect to me via Instagram @_kairosclere_
Via email bhama26@gmail.com
And my blog https://kairosclere.blogspot.com/

Thank you for reading <3
327 · Jun 2020
Worlds.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
I could fit all my world 
Inside my hands
Yet have
Nothing over
My control.
325 · Jun 2021
A Contrasting Ideal.
Kairosclere Jun 2021
To wonder whether
The object of your romanticism
Would never match
A harsh reality;
We say the cup is half full
Or half empty.
I don't know that which is real,
Because I put a rosy filter
Over life's hardships
And cast a darker shadow
Over fairytales.
And you begin to wonder
Where the two things mix
And stay in the sweet middle
Of a contrasting ideal.
320 · May 2020
Void
Kairosclere May 2020
You can’t touch it-
The pain,
Only wait for it
To get to you
And fill that void
With vengeance.
Connect to me
Via Instagram @_kairosclere_
Via email bhama26@gmail.com
On Pinterest  @_kairosclere_
On hello poetry at https://hellopoetry.com/Kairosclere/
And my blog https://kairosclere.blogspot.com/

Make sure to subscribe to get exclusive pieces.
Thank you for reading <3
316 · Mar 2021
°
Kairosclere Mar 2021
Rare is the urge to laugh,
Rarer to control.
I do not know where I was going with this except for the fact that I was cackling like a maniac today, at random things.
307 · Jun 2020
Destined.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
Let's just say
we were destined
to stand out,
and yell on top of our lungs
till the world notices us.
304 · Jun 2020
Untamed.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
Her untamed words
Were the sole things
The world needed
To survive
For yet another day.
300 · Jan 2021
Heavy.
Kairosclere Jan 2021
It weighs you down,
This baggage you carry.
Today in poems out of memes: what's heavier? 100 pounds bricks or 100 pounds feathers?
297 · Oct 2021
Monotony.
Kairosclere Oct 2021
If not for the hope
That dreary days will once end,
I couldn't see forward.
Long time no see!
281 · Apr 2021
Puzzles.
Kairosclere Apr 2021
The fun about puzzles
Is seeing an entire mural
Come alive
One piece after another
Connecting ends
And patterns-
That seem not to work
At first glance.
And maybe life is only all that,
A series of universal coincidences.
I spend too much time talking to someone and bam I have adopted their personality.
271 · Jun 2020
Painting.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
I was the painting you tore down
Even before you started.
262 · May 2020
Clocks.
Kairosclere May 2020
Synchronised
Clocks ticking
Slowly move away
No longer in sync
Dead.

/written a world apart/
This form of writing is called an elfchen.



Connect to me
Via Instagram @_kairosclere_
Via email bhama26@gmail.com
On Pinterest  @_kairosclere_
On hello poetry at https://hellopoetry.com/Kairosclere/
And my blog https://kairosclere.blogspot.com/

Make sure to subscribe to get exclusive pieces.
Thank you for reading <3
260 · Jun 2020
Thorns and roses.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
I was afraid
To let go
Of the solace of thorns
Let the
Temptation
Of soft flowers
Pierce me.
253 · Aug 2021
Shine.
Kairosclere Aug 2021
It's a pity, really,
That things bright and gold, subtle,
Cannot simply be caught on camera.
It demands the presence of the observer
Who in their true mind
That cannot conjure up it's radiance,
To watch it personally
With awe.
Tbvh this is a case of blue curtains
246 · Feb 2021
Weight.
Kairosclere Feb 2021
They say
Writing is best
When done with a heavy heart
So you delve
Deep
Searching for sorrows
To make stories out of.
And it feels queer
To carry the weight of the world
As if it's your own.
234 · Jun 2020
Six.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
Will
you
shelter
a
b    r     o    k     e     n
heart?
Connect to me
Via Instagram @_kairosclere_
Via email bhama26@gmail.com
On Pinterest  @_kairosclere_
On hello poetry at https://hellopoetry.com/Kairosclere/
And my blog https://kairosclere.blogspot.com/

Make sure to subscribe to get exclusive pieces.
Thank you for reading <3
233 · Jun 2020
Detached.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
Yes, it was a nightmare
But I haven't 
Left it behind
A few days after
My mom reached the stars
And shone down on me
No more by my side
Yet her presence felt
All through the day
Returning to
A semblance of normality
Somehow able to
Reach across the void
Her absence has left
The dark patch
Over our souls
But pretence
Is something that is
As natural
As forgettance.
And I converse
With my dad
Of trivial things
Like they actually
Matter
And I say,
"Appa, I can still
Hear her
In my head”
An alive phantom.
And I sob
Uncontrollably 
Waking up
Drenched with salty tears
Detached
From what's real
And what's not.
232 · Jun 2020
Objects.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
It’s just
Easier
To write about 
Objects
Because while most people
Are monotonous
Objects at least
Have variety.
231 · Dec 2020
Eyes.
Kairosclere Dec 2020
If my eyes
Are the windows
To my soul,
Let's see
How well
You can read
A void.
*laughs in dark circles and burnout*
229 · Jun 2020
Recycled.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
What can you do that hasn't been done before?
There are but the same words
To churn and repeat
Taking on a new form
With each different pen.
224 · Jun 2020
Truly alone.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
I reach my hands
Yearning for a soothing presence
And find my eyes
Looking back at me
Because I’m truly alone
But not lonely.
220 · Jun 2020
Simplicity.
213 · Jan 2021
Red threads.
Kairosclere Jan 2021
Souls are said to be connected
With red threads
Forming bonds to last.
Whenever I feel lost
I trace the thread
Connecting me and you
And manage
To find myself again.
I'm really grateful to have you in my life.
207 · Jun 2020
Care.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
My words may not seem like much,
In contrast to your love and adoration,
Rather bland and unfeeling.
Yet I care.
Every heart you send melts mine.
I really do care.
<3
205 · Jun 2020
Vain.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
Futile
Heart’s rain
Drenching revenge over
Oil fuelled fuming fire
Unquenched.
Connect to me
Via Instagram @_kairosclere_
Via email bhama26@gmail.com
On Pinterest  @_kairosclere_
On hello poetry at https://hellopoetry.com/Kairosclere/
And my blog https://kairosclere.blogspot.com/

Make sure to subscribe to get exclusive pieces.
Thank you for reading <3
194 · Jun 2020
Battles.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
There's so much I want to do, almost infinite time, the right resources and a hundred ways. 

There's so much I wished I could do, but what are wishes, without a will?
Connect to me
Via Instagram @_kairosclere_
Via email bhama26@gmail.com
On Pinterest  @_kairosclere_
On hello poetry at https://hellopoetry.com/Kairosclere/
And my blog https://kairosclere.blogspot.com/

Make sure to subscribe to get exclusive pieces.
Thank you for reading <3
Kairosclere Jun 2021
There once lived a king,
Only for the love of garb,
Who drained all the coffers,
To be adorned by something new each hour.
He cared not about the people,
Nor the soldiers at war,
Nor royal events,
Among other kingdoms,
Which failed to set a bar.
What can be said
Of a people,
Whose king himself
Was vain to a fault?
A glutton, nay, a fop,
Spent hours locked
Into a wardrobe much bigger
Than the royal throne room:
A room in which now stood two men
Before the billowing robes
Of a monarch whose face was barely seen,
And lay their case-
The only way to appeal
To a man ruled by cloth-
That they would make the finest
Most exquisite, most elaborate, wear,
Most adored, and adorn him in it,
A fabric that none can see
Except for the bright, and the fit,
Just the ones who were worthy
Of the seat on which they everyday sit.
The emperor, salivates, and says,
“Had I such a suit,
I shall know
The bright from the dim,
The wise from the foolish.
This fabric, nay, the stuff of gods,
Truth teller, must be woven,
For I will be then a king,
Who had it all”-
So as proclaimed, these rogues
Were put to work on the robes.
Given two looms,
And placed in the palace rooms,
They were provided with the finest of silk
The purest of gold thread
The sharpest of needles,
Never seen among their ilk.
They worked day and night,
Pretending to create something of might,
On something shimmeringly light
As thin air.
All the while usurping, pocketing
All the fine thread,
Sharing laughs at the dead of the night
At the foolishness of men.
Men were sent from the court
To check on the status of the weave-
No, the king wouldn’t come himself, no,
He had that much trust,
That a man of his status
Could see the working looms.
So, he sent others,
A test to their intelligence,
And all the people waited with bated breath,
For someone to proclaim
That what they beheld
Was, really, nothing, ahead.
The grand vizier,
Squirmed and stalled,
And the impostors, ever courteous,
Invited him in for a closer look,
“Oh, look at the colours, the designs,
The embroidery,
Will they suit the emperor’s fancy?”
Breaking a sweat,
Lying through his teeth, the wizened man said,
“Oh yes, indeed!”
He left with a long, parting look,
Looked and looked,
But could see nothing, so to save face,
He yells, hollers, to everyone who would hear,
That there is nothing more sheer
Than the one resting on the loom.
He spoke of the fabrics, and the designs,
The dyes and at lengths
Of the material.
With each visit from an imperial courtesan,
The knaves filled their knapsacks,
While the courtiers returned liars.
With each man
Spewing the cloth’s glory,
Each of the people claimed,
There were none as wise as he.
The emperor, further intrigued,
By hearing only praises, ears well fatigued,
Decided, on the word of two very honest men,
That the fabric would surpass everything he had ever beheld.
And on, he went to where the crafty impostors rested,
Crooned, “These splendid designs, these glorious colours,
Will soon become yours.”
He looked and looked, but could not see
Even a single thread passing the loom
And yet, exclaimed, “How wonderful,
Marvellous, stupendous, charming!”
And proceeded to empty his vocabulary
Describing something that didn’t exist.
Following his lead, his retinue echoed
Made sounds of affirmation and some of awe
For who would want to be a fool?
(in a world of fools)
The gentlemen presented the pretend weavers
With a riband, an order of knighthood,
Fitted to their button holes,
With the pretentious title of “Gentlemen Weavers”
The day before the emperor would wear the cloth,
They stayed up all night,
Pretended to cut and roll and thread
The stuff of gods
And with the first light of dawn, announced,
“The emperor’s new clothes are ready!”
They brought one article of clothing after another,
A pretentious show with nothing raised,
“Here are the trousers!
Here is the scarf!
Here is the mantle!
Here is the garb!”
To the backdrop of ooh’s and aah’s.
They made the emperor stand
And while they undressed him while he stood,
Looking at himself through the looking mirror,
Arranged and pleated the fabric, adjusted it to his tone.
Once done, the king turned this way and that
A whole round at that,
He examined his handsome suit.
“Do my new clothes fit well?”
“Yes, better than any royal garb!”
“All my people deserve to behold this lovely cloth!”
He marched through the streets,
With four men behind, holding up his trail
Men from all around the town agreed,
That none of his majesty’s other robes
Had ever made such an impression,
As much as these invisible ones.
A meek voice from the back,
One not prone to the ways of the world, said,
“But he wears nothing!”
Hands cupped his mouth, and he was dragged away,
While the whispers passed on.
Long poem but I hope worth going through.
148 · Jun 2020
Memory.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
I am your
Joyous memory
Touched by sadness
The reason
Behind your wry smile.
145 · Aug 2021
Sunset.
Kairosclere Aug 2021
There are millions of stories
Drifting clouds paint
Each day brings
A new sunset.
I saw this take on white woman's Instagram but for Indians and I fit all categories so I think I fit myself into the stereotypes of the societal standards and this is scary.
141 · Jun 2020
Time capsule.
Kairosclere Jun 2020
It will be so long
Until you find my poem, there,
Where simmers my hope.
When you unearth this song
I hope you're still strong
As a slender willow
Bending with the storms.
All I know
Is that we'll get through this somehow.
This desolate world just seems stray,
And I've turned lonely and sore.
There are rainbows in the horizon
Yet none out to enjoy.
And just like that,
You seem so far away;
I can't wait anymore.
We've conjured up walls now
Not only those built within.
And those days I'll spend again
With you
A future farther than evermore.
I miss those times
You were with me
The times we could breathe,
Close to me, right here,
In my arms;
Now your pictures are all I can see
Of a murky, distant past
Tinged with the intoxication of freedom
Of roaming the ends of the world
With you.
And I wish, if only,
If I could conjure up by my charms.
This letter unearthed,
An eternity later,
Are you still the same? Am I?
But all I'm sure of, all I can say,
We'll get through this together.
I'm glad you're a part of me
The butter to my knife;
When the chances seemed gray
And faith went astray
And you're, so, so away,
I know you're right by me
And I'm sure to stay.
Collab with Arundhati Suresh
123 · Mar 2021
3.
Kairosclere Mar 2021
3.
We speak of morality and mortality
While each breath
Each word
Poisons our soul.
Cliche but true: it costs nothing to be rude, and nothing to be kind. It's a choice, and I hope you go with the latter.
Kairosclere Jun 2021
I sat down
Trying to write a script-
Something to awe,
Before you decide to draw
This entire joke to a close-
And I think my hands
Moved of their own accord
Some ghost possession, I guess,
Or maybe I just wanted to write about ghosts
Anyway (read twice)
There was this human
Who turned Fae-
Argh no, scratch that,
Too cliche,
This Fae, she turned human!
Ahh see now that the story begins to weave!
I mean, I guess,
I weave the story
Or rather
This ghost guiding my hand.
He seems the same type as Casper, though,
Except with the creative range
Of a twenty year old
In the middle of college,
And lost all his imagination.
Words- WORDS!
Ah woe is me, she cried,
Because in a world where
She was supposed to be immortal,
She was stripped of her pride.
And there the straw ****** dry,
No creative juice these days
The ghost came by.
(Because he was intangible?
And anyway couldn’t consume
All that gave our meat sacks
Ill deserved pleasure?)
I pat the ghost on his head
Like an affectionate pet
And ask him to go on,
Because even though trash,
(HA, GOLDEN)
The only reason I was writing
Was through his pen.
She used to be a goddess in her own realm,
All powerful, all mighty,
Beautiful, very pretty,
(here we both are stuck-
To catch words, flowery,
That they would attract the best of bees,
To pollinate, and pass on the word,
Of this unfinished story),
And we keep the pen down
As an attempt
To at least attract wasps-
But now,
She gave up what she treasured most
For a love
That promised itself until eternity
Into this man
She had looked all from afar
And decided
It was either him or nothing at all.
I turn to him,
Yes, the friendly
Burnt-out college dude,
“Wait, isn’t this the plot
Of every major fantasy?
Or are you just channeling yours’
Through me?
All the time wasted on assignments,
And I become your bard
Guiding through a weird
Fanfiction?”
I don’t get an answer,
Obviously, because,
As I said, he is intangible,
Beyond words, beyond form,
A presence
That might not be here at all.
(I also cannot see him
Shaking his head
As I type word after word, muddled,
As he chews on imaginary bread.)
But somehow the words erase
(I know this because of the
Frantic clicking of the backspace bar
And a cursor
The seems to have forgotten
All that was written
By the predecessor-)
Written over minutes long,
As though my will does not count
Into all that he had planned.
So we begin our charade again:
Him, channeling all his pent up anxiety
Over ghost college-
Ah I think the
Math assignment due
Did everything but spur him on
To finish this poem,
And his lack of creativity
Into this newfound hobby.
She went on to confess
Her undying love
For this man, mortal,
And he looked at her
Long and lost,
And said,
“Who are you?”
Sounding so similar to
All those I had
Tried to speak to-
Ah! The trauma!
Woe is me.
There are shitposts
And there is poetry
The artistic skill required to
Merge them both
Is just treachery
To everyone who possesses a brain.
And when I am just
On the verge of pressing the cross
Not one that will lead to salvation-
But definitely one that will
Liberate the reader’s sensibilities
My mouse moves,
Saves the file,
And mails it to you instead.
If you sat through the previous one, why not another lmaoo
I do love tormenting people.
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