Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Adya Jha Mar 2018
How many sunsets does it take to feel like you actually belong somewhere
How many awkward conversations does it take to feel like this is home
How many wet pillows and repeated hellos does it take
How many seen-zones and ignores
How many ‘from tomorrow onwards’ promises
How many written poems and spoken word performances
How many “hey, you’re the new kid” labellings
How many corners and books to get lost in
How many sleepless nights and midnight walks
How many rotations of the earth
How many revolutions, if that’s what it takes
Till I stop feeling miserable one day
Adya Jha Dec 2017
Dear future significant other,
So I finally found you
I know I act like I don't give a ****
Like I don't buy all this love drama
But that's because my past experiences tore me apart so much
That I chose indifference over affection
I'm not telling you to give me flowers everyday
But tell me I'm beautiful every time you get the chance
Even if I scoff at you and tell you that I don't believe it
Show me that you appreciate the beauty that lies within
Which I have been nurturing all my life
But to no applause or avail
Tell me that you've never, ever met someone as crazy and wild like me
But don't smother me with praise either
Tell me I'm a ******* when I'm being one
But do not pick on my imperfections
I've been picking on them for too long
I stand in front of the mirror and analyse my each and every flaw
Thinking that I'm too ugly, too fat
Too whatever-boys-don't-like to ever be loved
Draw the curtains on my insecurities
And know that even though you don't see the scars and tears, they're there
The world made me rough, told me to not talk and shut the **** up
So be a shoulder during my weakness and help me deal with this madness
I probably never told you but
I imagined you during each romance book and movie, each 2 o'clock fantasy, each love song
I've been waiting for you throughout my life
I didn't want to but I did
That's just who I am
Let's go on adventures and do things no one has ever done before
Because we are anything but routine
And, in the end, leave me if you must
But do it with decency because I've had too many ugly heartbreaks  
I will not be able to tolerate another ****  
Leave me, even if it will hurt
Even if it *****
But do it with with respect
And I'll thank you
For teaching me things I could not have learnt otherwise
With love,
Hopeless romantic
Adya Jha Oct 2017
So you ask the difference
Between prose and poetry

Prose is just... prose

But poetry is a song
An entire universe, coming full circle
Poetry beats with my heartbeat
And it sings, but in a melody
Of words and midnight thoughts
Of strong coffee and dreamy haze
The mix of noise and silence
Poetry matches the rhythm of my feet
Tip-tap-tap, tip-tap-tap, it goes  
It climbs slopes and mountains
Varying in speed and delivery   
And descends, slowly, sliding into a pool of emotions
10,000 degrees of sadness and happiness
In each verse of the poet
Poetry is destruction and creation
Of the old and the new
Of statements and opinions
Of the paradaox of our age
Things built and unbuilt,
Broken and assembled
Like a lego model of complications
Poetry is revolt and revolution at the same time
It is a chant for liberation
That cannot be overcome by dominance
Or by any evil things of these times
Poetry is the hope of the protest
And the push for change
Waiting patiently, just going over the edge
About to burst not into flames but butterflies
And clear skies, Sunday morning sunlight
Like yellowed novel pages
Poetry will turn you inside out
Bare the soul and tear the flesh
Scatter the foundation of bones
Until you wonder and ponder
Over your very existence
Poetry is everywhere
And by everywhere, I mean, especially your toilet
Best thought out on the ***
Poetry is a word search with infinite vocabulary
Hoping to cross out as many as possible
But it never ends
Poetry is in the shade of your backyard tree
Of the things in this world that cannot speak
So we speak for them
It is the shout of the left-out, marginal, never-really-existing people
Poetry is life given to those who would not have had one
It is a Christmas sock for the soul
Comforting and warm, cherished in all forms
Poetry is writing poems for yourself and reading them in front of the mirror
And at the same time
Standing in a bazaar and waving your arms
Among cows and vegetables and chaat
Shouting, "Listen to me! I've got something to say!"
Poetry is getaway
In corners and edges
It is trying to escape everything real
And wanting the surreal
It is the 1 o'clock fantasies
Riding on waves, pirates of my own land
Middle Earth and elves, the adventures of dwarf lads
Poetry is the life-changer, the inspirer
The 'you'll be alright'
And 'next time buddy'
To every exam failed, every heartbreak
The arm on the shoulder, the pat on the back  

Poetry is... A lot of things
But most importantly,
Poetry is you
It's in the whispers of you singing in the shower
It is your ugly, spit flying, gums showing laughter on the terrace
It is how you snuggle right into my emptiness

Poetry is the answer
To my 6 year old adopted kid's question
When he walks in with my 10 adopted dogs
And asks me,
"Mom, what is everything made of?"
I'll first tell him that matter is made up of atoms
Because, of course, he needs to be scientifically correct
But then I'll add that everything is made of poetry too, there's not much difference

See, prose is just prose
But poetry is not 'just poetry'
Adya Jha Oct 2017
Before you say,
"You are holding on to me too much"
Let me tell you, not cheesily but realistically
That you are all I have
In a world of "hi-bye" conversations
You are one to whom I can talk about
Every book I've read or every political opinion I have
Every thought that passes in the blink of an eye
Every feeling I've felt at every moment I've spent
Every thing, with or without significance, alike
You are the one whom I introduce to my mother
With a smile that says,
"Mom, this is the reason why I've been sleeping peacefully
And breathing easily
And not feeling as lonely as I used to be"
So before you ask,
"Oh, so I can't hang out with anyone else now?"
I'll tell you that you can
But I can't
Because I can't relate to anyone else
In this world of formalities and judgement
That I feel left-out when you aren't there
So when I sit there with gloomy eyes
And tell you,
"I'm fine. I'm just sleepy, that's all"
What I actually wanna say is,
But you don't have to hunch your back carrying my burdens
I am an ever-lasting internal battle
You won't understand me
Neither will you, or you, or you, or you
And before you say,
"It's all just an illusion, you're not as lonely as you think you are"
I am
Because I find myself in dark corners at times
Severely depleated in shoulders to cry on
You don't know what that's like
You don't know what it's like to sleep on a wet pillow every night
Dreading every single day
You don't know how it's like to hide underneath desks
And make up plausible excuses for your ever-lasting sadness
And before you say,
"Poor people are dying in our country-"
I know, I know they are
Charlie from Perks of Being a Wallflower said that,
"When my children grow up and they are facing problems like these
I won't tell them things like kids are starving in other countries
Because it isn't gonna make them feel any better"
I wish people like Charlie were real
So everytime you say,
"I'll be there for you"
Like this is ******* 'Friends'
I don't believe it for a single second
I don't need you to make promises out of sympathy
Truth is, this won't exist if people really gave a ****
And when you ask,
"What do you want from life?"
Honestly... honestly?
All I want is someone to come and put a hand on my shoulder
Look me in the eye and ask,
"How has your day been?"
And listen to each and every word of my reply
Listen to why I write such poems at midnight
Why I feel the way I do
And then maybe, maybe
You'll understand why I don't want to let go of you
Adya Jha Oct 2017
My heart is a rookie, new and fresh from the drafts
But mid-season, it got injured and never really came back into form
Adya Jha Oct 2017
Kamla sits on the stairs outside a shop
Wearing a worn out sari, holding a stick
Her thick glasses dusted with dirt from ages
She keeps her left hand extended
Passerby's coins make up her living
Jamal is always on a crutch
He sleeps on the footpath outside the masjid
When one day, someone drove over him
But justice for poor is non-existent

But you
You stand in the middle of the road
While a line of cars wait
You burst crackers like it's your own backyard
The remanents splattering everywhere

Go light someone's life
Give Kamla something to eat
Give Jamal a blanket
Who may be tapping car windows at traffic signals
Begging, to overcome our ignorance
Adya Jha Oct 2017
I want to unscrew the window grill and crawl out
To the vastness of the world
I want to throw stones at your window
And tag you along on an adventure
Make a space ship in the garage
Travel to parallel universes
Shoot the weird *** aliens
Even if it's all just the aftereffects of marijuana,
I'd like to smoke some with you
What do you say?
Will you be the Rick to my Morty?
Next page