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Ambika Jois Sep 2018
Oh how I love you,
Dear Unborn Baby,
I've been waiting
For you.

Holding you in my arms,
Is all I'm yearning,
For I've been waiting,
Since 22.

I can't wait
Any longer
To see
Which part of you
Resembles me.
I want you
To be better
In every way baby,
Better than me.

I've seen how
This world can be deceiving.
I want you to trust me,
When I hold you close.
I can't wait
For this world to see you.
When you're ready to take off,
Take my love with your wings.

Oh how I love you
Dear Unborn Baby,
I've been waiting
For you.

Holding you in my arms,
Is all I'm yearning,
For I've been waiting,
Since 22.
I've always had this vision of being a mother, holding my baby in my arms. I'm not a mother, yet I feel like I know this feeling already. This poem is how I recently felt when a gush of broodiness took over briefly.
Ambika Jois Sep 2018
The days are filled with silence
I spend sunlight on finding answers
Waiting hours on end for night to fall
Hoping another day will carry chances

I used to sing my heart out
When I was left alone at home
Now I fear that someone might hear me
That someone is me, oh no

How did I go
From melody to nothing
Years of dreaming
To losing everything

How will I rise
From nothing to something
Years of learning
Have I forgotten to sing?

The nights are filled with demons
I spend moonlight on finding angels
Waiting hours on end for the morning
Hoping I'd wake up to a sequel

I've only lived half of what I can
I've only dreamed half of what I am
I've only sang half of what I understand
I only, only, only... just began...

How did I go
From melody to nothing
Years of dreaming
To losing everything

How will I rise
From nothing to something
Years of learning
Have I forgotten to sing?
I've been undergoing some low times lately. It may just be a simple case of writer's block or something similar, but after a turning point in my life, this poem defines how I've been struggling to find myself again. Maybe I'll never find my old self, but I hope to find my new self soon.
  Aug 2018 Ambika Jois
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
  Aug 2018 Ambika Jois
egghead
We cannot write silence.
The beats.
The pause.
The breath.
The way it aches
and persists

and begs that,

if only for a moment,

our consciousness is only a whisper.
our bodies,
our lips,
the air that passes through falling chests
and stillness.

A melody of emotion.
Sleeping in the quiet of a heartbeat skipped
a word lost to the wind.

The wickedness of reticence
Encapsulated in air and time.

The moment stretched too long.
Hesitation perpetuated in the grip of fingernails
pressed into palms.

We cannot write silence,
but we can try.

to find a way to immortalize emotion
to create space
in the ceaseless drone of words that speak and spin.

I cannot write silence. But I can write
tears and years
and the burn of long-stretched lies.

I can write goodbyes and hellos
And dozen ways to say
I love to hate you
Or
I hate to love you
and sometimes
I cannot tell the difference.
Silence.
The space I have upheld for myself.

I love to hate you
Heart.

I hate to love you too.

I cannot write silence.
But I know it.
and I have held it in my hand.
Inspired by the Vanity Fair article of André Aciman's reaction to his book *Call Me By Your Name* being made into a movie. Specifically the quote, "I couldn't write silence."
Ambika Jois Aug 2018
Who said,
We must love more than once,
To know what love is?

Who said,
We must kiss more than one,
To know it is worth our heart?

Who said,
We have time to experiment,
To know if it'd grow into something better?

Who said,
We can dabble in variety,
To filter out what's best for us?

Who said,
Love isn't love if it's our first,
Or last - who really knows?

Who really knows,
If it's love,
If it's worth my heart,
If it deserves my short life,
If it's best for me,
If it's me first and last,
But me?
I was once given the advice that I must not believe it's love, because it's my first experience of having feelings for someone. I was also advised to test things out for some time and see if there's someone better for me. All this advice, I followed, but I made some stupid mistakes to get to the right place. I regret those mistakes even if they brought me to the right person.

I believe in synchronicity and that everything I've done, led up to the very moment that was written in the stars for us before I even set my foot on the wrong path. So would I not have gotten there somehow when, what I was seeking was also seeking me? Would we not have found each other anyhow? Without regrets, without time wasted, without resentment and without hurt?

What's love today, if all it means is to test each other's boundaries? Does love not mean to care and be there for those who need that in their lives? Is that not all it is? When did love become so conditioned, experimental, mechanical and all about a trend? And what happens to those who've been best friends and loved each other since childhood? Does it actually help to listen to others' advice on love when you know yourself, your heart and your mind the best?

Here's my poem that asks these simple questions, that has made me even more grateful for what time I do have left in this lifetime to spend with my loved one. Thank you, universe, for not complicating it any further than it already has been, and thank you for keeping it this simple. May you have the same priceless love as I do.
Ambika Jois Aug 2018
When we were kids,
We just couldn't rest.
We'd wake up early,
Coz each day was a fest.
The younger we were,
The less we slept.
We felt waking up was better,
There was much to test!

The more we learned,
The more we knew,
The more we heard,
That more became true.
The less we observed,
The less we grew,
The less we listened,
This less became true.

We learned to wait,
We learned about patience.
We designed ourselves to fit in,
Whilst we outwaited our creations.
We began to yearn for time,
We began to yearn for another chance.
We began to yearn for what we once had,
We began to blame it on finance.

We spent our first few years unafraid,
Didn't we know then that we were in an ocean?
We didn't stop to think of that, did we?
We just continued to join the waves in motion.

We didn't know fear,
Until we reached for something others couldn't.
We didn't know fear,
Until we yearned for something others didn't.
We didn't know fear,
Until we waited in hope, whilst others didn't.
We didn't know fear,
Until the rainbows we saw weren't our own.

Now time is running out,
We're in yet another decade.
We've been through hell and back,
But we've reached this age, still afraid.
We wake up everyday with reluctance,
We don't want to face our duties.
We muster it up and turn on auto-pilot,
We let ourselves become our own refugees.

We've forgotten how we awoke,
6am every Christmas morning,
Run downstairs to see Santa's gifts,
Our tummies all butterflicious, hearts warming.
We've forgotten how we felt excited,
To face each day with the unknown
Each year taught us to be less dependent,
Leading up to the writings on our headstone.

Isn't it time we were born again, everyday?
Just so we once again embrace what we don't know?
With something new to look forward to,
Would we not find this lost joy and our own rainbow?
I was watering the plants this morning and saw this lovely rainbow. And then these thoughts suddenly came rushing in, alerting me of how we get caught up in moments that make life seem so long, when it's actually pretty short. We spend so much of this time being weary, afraid and cautious. We didn't go through all this as kids! It's actually quite a painful feeling, to know that we were happier as kids when we feared less than we do now as grown ups. I’ve feared for too long now. I just don’t have the energy anymore. It’s demotivating and has made me begin to question why I wake up everyday if I cannot feel the way I used to as a kid. Kids have such love for each day that there is much to learn from. It seems to get harder as I grow older, to be more like them. Fearless. Here’s what I feel I’ve become and I know there are more like me. I hope you can relate to this poem I wrote. Enjoy :)
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