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 Oct 2014 Matloob Bokhari
Rupal
Don't create
Friends
or
Enemies...

You'll get
caught up
in your
own creation...

Learn to
remain in
solitude
with everything
around you*...
He helped drag me
up from the pit of despair
as no other would
How much loyalty
does that warrant?
His unhappiness
chips away at my armor
I hate his unhappiness
and my uselessness
I yearn for happiness
and contentment
But, his sorrow
erodes it
leaving frustration
and anger in its wake
as I sit and wonder
how long does it
take for love
to die?
10/26/2014
useless am I
in the face of his sorrow
his anger
his pain
Through the doorway of time
Comes through with strife
I was starting to lose myself
In the moment of my mind
It was gone in an instant
I must have been imagining
The glow of your love
And then I stepped into nothingness
When knocked down to my knees
I felt
The mirror of your touch
My love and the instant flame
As I stood up slowly
As I made my way to your arms
Your intentions were not plain
I rose more slowly to find
You the second time around
______________________________________________
*Who was it whose embers did burn?
After the fire had been doused
The mirror that reflected your image,
Even after you were gone
Why is it that you forget the path?
That was…by rims of my eyes,
Lit with candles, fuelled by my tears,
The one whose shoulders you held on
When you were skidding , slipping,
It was just that momentarily you had looked
Into a setting sun, a darkness…blinding you
I was always besides, had always been true
If ever nothingness is what surrounds you
You need to just need to sigh a name aloud,
For me, it shall be a clarion call
A whisper louder than a shout….
The next a waft of cool breeze comes calling on
Knocking on your doorway of time
And it appears hopelessly shut as such
Open the window and there you’ll find
This man, his intentions plain and true
Standing patiently under the autumn yew
Waiting, the spring of a smile from you…
Who always loved you so much…
The curtains to the show have not dropped as yet
Wait awhile…
The story is still alive
Just this world that we have passed through
Another world beyond this
Awaits…
I went through the sidewalk on Pedro Gil and Taft
The blaring red and green traffic lights
Sort of obscured the view through my spectacles
In the early Manila evening

The smell of cancer in the air
Complimented the noise of the jeeps
That raced through the intersection
As the sun slowly sunk at the sight of the moon

I saw faces less and less
As the broken street lamps flickered
Some people were minding their own business
Others shouted and laughed in the street

I saw people gripping onto their bags
Like they gripped onto their lives, because the city is never safe
Especially at the dusk
Where all the thieves come out to play

The noise may reach above heaven
And the air may be as ***** as the sewers
But there is no other place
That I would consider home
Went on the good ol' commute from uni to home today. Just a few observations.
Where is my Campbell Soup Can? My Candy Darling, Edie Sedgewick, my "Factory"?

I was promised 15 minutes, it said so on the box, on the manual of life, now where is it?

Did I pass it? Dismiss it? Was it at the bottom of the ******* Jack box I so carelessly tossed aside?

I think not. I think it does not exist, and therefore I think Andy failed me.

Andy lied.
I am a huge stalker....I mean fan, of Andy Warhol. I have read many books on him and the people he had surrounded himself with and think he may have been a bit, um, a touch of a sociopath. If you can have just a smidgen of that. ;)
We live in a Society were everyone tries to be the same
You are ether Cool or Lame
You are Good or Bad
You are Black or White
Well not me!
I'll be Purple
And you can be Red
He can be Green
She can be Blue
Why is it only Black and White?
Why can't we all be Our-self ?
Why can"t we all be Different?
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