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Jayesh 1d
It seems silly
Even childish
Even as far apart as we are,
How connected I feel to you
Through the lens of a lit screen

Tip tap click clack
Small sounds
Yet, apparent to those who listen
Fingers dancing across a screen
Elated in their movement

Often, they move quickly
As if dancing Salsa, or swing maybe
(east coast I assume, as west I hear is a bit slow)
A joyous movement
In response to yours
A dance among two, moving together
Worlds apart, but somehow closer

There are times when they waltz
To the beat of my contemplation
In instances more peculiar
Again, in response to yours
However, movements more cautious
Offering myself to your hands
Rather than taking them in my own

Tip tap click clack
Innocent sounds
Which before,
I would have seen as irrelevant
And with others, still do
I await these sounds from you, although
Intrigued in what movements you will choose

Whether you take my hands in yours
Or I take yours in mine
In joyous swing
Or contemplative waltz
I await you
Through the lens of this lit screen
Jayesh May 4
I have felt before
A curious notion
As if adding color
To my pastel being

I remember laughter
A bright hue
Shared with those outside myself
Joining in a simple dance
One, however, more impactful
Forcing me to shade my eyes
To this sudden presence

I remember warmth
A subtle shade
One I felt with few
But one enveloping
An old blanket on the coldest of nights
Albeit, among foreign presence

I remember despair
A selfish tone
Pushing itself away from others
Wallowing in its own comfort
A reaching beggar
Yearning for alms

Many shades were held thus
Enjoying themselves
Among the company of others
Yet when they all mixed,
It became ever so dull
A dispassionate gray
Struggling against any vicarious tint

I know shame
A dreary cast
Filled with knowledge of the other tones
And their risks

My brush remains still
Filled in the nostalgia of old joys
In tinges of excitement, depravity, and pure joy
Yet, only one color remains prominent
A strange irony
Mixed from the others
Jayesh Apr 27
I remember this feeling
Approaching me in nostalgic ways
A blanket from home, encompassing against any cold
Yet, one with thorns
Questioning whether the red was from a rose
Or myself

You can hear snaps at times
If close enough
Quiet violence
To the tune of frustrated melodies
Ones I still can’t sing
In any key

I wondered
Why you held a glass to me
Full to the brim of yourself
Yet, cracked
Letting bits slip through
Ones that should have remained hidden

There are times
I am unsure of what carries my body
Pushing left foot in front of right
Antiparallel to my arms
Always a curious motion to me
Who designed it this way?
Among my many puzzles

I blanch at the sight of these:
A Worn diary, Foreign melodies, Cracked glass
As if they hold their own horrors
Unique from mine

Yet, they don’t
Do they?
Another tick mark on the list
Right below the blanket from home
Jayesh Apr 20
These long roads have taken a toll⁣
Parts of it coming along the journey ⁣
Others, more acutely, through its fall⁣
I know not, however, of its merit⁣

It began as a simple trip⁣
Among concrete paths ⁣
Carefree in nature, moreso in spirit⁣
Yet, it held the greatest strife ⁣

I saw a birdling begin flight⁣
Likely the first of its kind⁣
It's naïvette would bring a smile⁣
Yet, as it spread its tiny plumes⁣
It became for nought ⁣
As it plummeted
Never to climb again ⁣

Time began to toll⁣
Away from me⁣
Fingers grasping ⁣
At empty mists⁣
I could hear them laughing ⁣
At my bitter attempts⁣

I've yearned ⁣
For simple vanities, simple in nature⁣
Simple trinkets ⁣
Holding these small joys⁣
I've heard much of ⁣
Yet, I swerve away⁣
Back towards these long roads⁣

Simple tolls⁣
Ringing to quiet thoughts ⁣
Plumes of naïve enthusiasm ⁣
Laying in my wake⁣
Jayesh Apr 4
There may have been a ceremony ⁣
One I lost my eye to⁣
At least, there should have been
Celebrating customs I have envied

I have stepped towards this time⁣
Climbing the steepest of slopes ⁣
Descending into further depths⁣
No matter the repercussions⁣
As I felt it needed⁣
Name signed to a bound contract⁣

I've felt my legs give ⁣
Bones splintering, tendons slipping ⁣
An acute melody⁣
Written on a white sheet⁣
With a treble clef⁣
Yet, no written notes ⁣

I've felt low at these moments
But it's also when I've found why I do so
In the slight curve of expression
Or dim light, fighting through the dark
I see it in them

Perhaps I'm simply following this
A path made by whispery treading
Retracing the lines
For those that follow
Herein lies this function
One I haven't missed
Instead, a time of celebration
To acute tunes
Some shattering, others slipping
Jayesh Feb 28
I have long forgotten its origin
Embedded in places invisible
Ones I have found lost
Involved in my curious wanderings,
Perhaps it lays there as temptation
Or simple challenge

I’ve placed left foot to right
At the base of this structure
Yet, amongst these steps
Where I may have often found progress
I fall
Left lost to right
Vice lost to versa

Each time I return
To that same cornered crevice
Holding this deceiving fabric
Hoping, beyond all, to finally reach its zenith
But there it lay
Different by the day

I know the fault of its existence
Falls on personal shoulders
Within the realm of selfish gain
I find this;
Impeding my progress, yes
But holding answers too intriguing to pass

I hold back from expressing these frustrations
Simple trains of thought
Confusing the path of these steps
Almost like my younger self
Learning to take them

I exist here
Taking these steps
Putting left to right
Vice to versa
As if progressing nowhere
Perhaps a true sentiment
But look closer
Left may not be going to right
Nor vice to versa
Yet, there I am
Finding these paths
Quite an intricate puzzle
To find my way
Putting right to left
Versa to vice
Jayesh Feb 16
They dance with joyful steps
Yet I may be the only one to hear them
Small taps ever-present
No matter how much I drown them out

They lay within me
Not quite like any other
Yet present in all forms
Through places I myself know little of

They have hung over me
Not in any visible way
Moreso in manners permeable
Engaged in my silent strife

Its in these small weights
I find greater burdens
Holding me down
Preventing me joining their movement

I can feel their disappointment with this
Forever beckoning
Hoping I would tap along with them
Despite this, they never leave

I remain silent on these afflictions
Knowing the emotion they would draw
Perhaps it wouldn’t be clear
In the solace they give me
In quiet nights
When no other could fathom me
They offer their comfort
And somehow, amongst their cold embrace
I find it
Still feeling their burden
But understanding their presence
Sitting in silent mourning
To the sounds of their joyful steps
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