I am
naked
in my thought

Safe
within my room
nestled and cocooned
I touch no one and no one
touches me

I am poet
Words barred and leveraged
for all soiled souls
who are possessed

For who finds faith
in word
without light
while searching
in the dark

Is there anything more permanent ?
Is there anything more vain ?
For surely the word we call last
Will outlast all our attempts to change

Some days, I smile and I don’t know why,
Other days, I sit and just let time slide by.
Coffee gets cold, texts go unread,
Thoughts spinning circles inside my head.

Some days, I win little fights with my doubt,
Other days, I barely crawl out.
But I breathe, I try, I take one more stride
And that, for today, is enough on my side.

i am not a poet,

nor am i a poem.

i am not a writer,

nor a book.

i am not a painter,

nor a painting.

i am not a sculptor,

nor a sculpture,

i  am not the artist,

nor the muse.

i am an idea,

that exists

only

in your imagination

Paralyzed by the unknown, lost in shadow, how can I find the fissure where light might pierce this gloom? It presses in – a void that steals the air, leaving me breathless in the emptiness. Doubt, a fragile seed, sprouts even here in the suffocating dark. Where is the conduit for truth? How can it be brought forth? Is the only passage forged in fire? Must I consume myself, offer my own being as the flame, hoping its sacrifice illuminates the way forward?

I am a coward in disguise
You will hear it in well made up lies
I try to knock the sphere of wise
But I am caught up to my device
Walking on tiptoes over my vices
Avoid setting them obscure at the wrong timings
I have an act up, kind of pretentious
Put up a brave face, being cautious
For time will come to test your defences
What we prepared is not enough, they are relentless
So it is the time, time to get up
Would I, If I am a coward in disguise,
Stand up and rise?