all my life
i've been preparing faces
to meet the faces that
i've met

friends
family
the man who delivers newspapers
at our doorstep each morning

i've laughed at their silly jokes
as they tossed their heads from side to side
in naive stupidity and their sheer ignorance
a pompous lot, the human race i tell you

i've acknowledged their staunch morals
and tried to make them my own
as they scorned at the girl in a skimpy dress
and chewed on mutton bones gluttonously

all my life, i've been trying hard
to blend in
with people who've shown me
that i don't belong with them

and tonight when i shed gallons of tears
i have only my bed and pillow to share
i've learnt that my sadness
is my very own

Creation happens
when the words
come from Silence
and the poet
recognizes
her words express
the Silence
from which they
spring...

i asked you what i could get you,
you jokingly said the moon.

i couldn't reach that far.

you look up at a dark sky, laying next to another girl.
and now i'm left with arms full of stars.

Looking through the eyes,
Of the unknown body,
Known as me.
Desperate for a way out,
But I can not escape,
Myself.

Words
interrupt the
sacred Silence
naming the particles
appearing before us..
creating a world
out there..

Before
the interruptions
Silence
formed and colored
itself from
within itself
never departing
from its glowing
seamlessness..

Thus
we see
words as engines
of creation..
creating the illusion
of the dream world
we all know..
a dream unending
until..on a sunny morn
we awaken...!

Maybe it’s me who’s changed,
And I dread to sound
Old,
Or pretentious,
Or out of touch,
Or Like I’m trying to sound like something
I’m not,
But the world seems a bit more superficial
That’s it used to be