The other side of Lonely
is where words best not be spoken.
An amazing space where two can live
when both their hearts are broken.
Where money serves to be a salve
to fill the empty places.
Where Joy and Hope no longer live-
You can see it in their faces.

Innocence was once
remembered and simply left
to breed and mutate.

Oh Dipali, Oh Dipali
So pretty, so lovely.
Short hair, the smiley face
So pleasant, your grace.

But why do I wonder,
It's not real?
The masks you wear,
Covering up your anguish and fear.

Look at you, all changed .
Feet to forehead, everything arranged.
Just as an experiment, take my advice,
Need not be beautiful, need not be nice.
Be the one you really are- Just For Today!

Thick glass-frames, oh poor eyesight ?
Or maybe the darkness of  the lonely nights
without the two twinkling stars,
Your eyes reflect the deep scars.
Remove your glasses
Be the one you really are- Just For Today!

Take out your golden wrist watch,
Take out your blue and white friendship bands.
Free up your wrists, Free up your hands.
Burdens of emotions and time,
The marks will show up as their remains.
But Be the one you really are- Just For Today!

Heavily packed your wardrobe, so colourful.
Tops and denims and matching shoes, so cheerful.
Fingers will run through them, but give them a holiday.
How about just a plain salwaar-kameez for today?

Search for your simplest sandals, no high heels.
Be simple,
Today no visual appeals.
No make-up, no fancy handbags.
Be the one you really are- Just For Today!

A beauty rising out of clouds,
For today will just dissolve into the crowds.
Soon you'll realize its value,
An existence so natural, so true.
But for today, just be the one you really are.
And you'll still stand out in millions, my dear,
With your pretty face, and the short hair.

She took my hand and followed me
through the trees,
under the archway made of ivy
(flanked by pristinely carved hedges)
into the vast, open field
which met the ethereal red sun
on the horizon.

We sat in the fresh grass,
cool in the evening air.
All the while we stayed silent,
just admiring the untouched space.
Each blade of grass before us
swayed gently,
tantalisingly...

Time had stopped
but everything was still living.
Still moving.
As if this place were not included
in Time's perseverance.  
I didn't want it to be,
it was too important to me.

It occurred to me then
that it wasn't this place
that I valued the most at all
It was this moment.

And I captured it.

My lover asks me:
"What is the difference between me and the sky?"
The difference, my love,
Is that when you laugh,
I forget about the sky.

I miss the sweet smell of your bed
The lingering scent of your blonde hair
On the pillow
In the sheets
I miss how soft it all was
Against my skin
And waking up next to you
Your morning baby blues
Looking right at me
Smiling right at me
How beautiful everything was
With the bright southern sun
Shining through the window
The way we'd melt into each other
Before getting out from under the covers
Your soft hot skin
Your steamy **** breath
My eyes glued to you
Mind and heart and all
I'm not suppose to remember
Or even think about it
But when something is so perfect
And it's taken away
You'll never go a day without missing it

Whenever I get in a car I make sure the doors are locked
I do this because I like to lean against the window with my whole body
It's terrifying to think that the door could just fly open and I could fall out
Sometimes I make sure everyone's doors are locked
It's sort of a pet peeve of mine
Or maybe it's more of an anxiety

I climbed into the back seat of my dad's big red truck last night
I leaned against the door like I always do
But I didn't lock the door,
Actually I made sure it was unlocked
You could say I was waiting for something bad to happen
The truth is I wasn't waiting, I was wishing

Slip, fall
No movement for a couple seconds
Passed out on the floor
Blood covers his face and shirt
Responsible drinking Dad

"Get him up!"
Panic quickly enters the room
So close,
But he collapses again

"Call 911!"
My hands are shaking
As I dial for help
"Hello where do you live"
More questions are asked while they are still trying to stand him up

Bright flashing lights take control of everyone's attention
He is conscious now sitting with the police
Drunk fingers hold mine tightly for support
But why should I support him?

The bright lights take him off to where he will be spending the night
When we get there he is lying down in a room
"Someone give me a gun, I need to die"
Dad, you're drunk
Tears fill up in my eyes as I sit and watch my father figure in a new light
"Plummy, do you have a gun for me?"

A little part of me dies when he says that
I feel sick to my stomach, where is the dad I used to know?
No Dad, I don't have a gun
He looks at me with sadness and embarrassment
But I cannot get myself to look back with love and support
So I just don't look at him

I never let myself judge him because of things like this
Tonight that idea changed in my head
I just hope this is a wake up call for him too

skyscraper man on seattle time
looms in the corner of swan lake and fry
untouchable denim untouchable blueblack plaid jacket
     he's put together with clothespins
     he's put together with stipends
     he's crammed between taxi cab book ends
skyscraper man on seattle time
stoic as the jet engines roar by
all his friends are magazines all his friends currentbrief
     he's got a little future
     he's got a few dimes
     he's got no father to call out the lies
skyscraper man on seattle time
watches smog children kick ***** on concrete
vulnerable under trees writes his novels in purpleink
     he's married once before
     he's read crucifixion lore
     he's returned his money to the store
skyscraper man on seattle time
looking through spectacles of ***** and brine
the rain falls hard the breeze sweet on the leaves
     he's emptying the soul of modern rock n' roll
     he's emptying the tray of ashed thought
     he's emptying the bank account cold
skyscraper man on seattle time
sheds crinkled skinmemory like the cicada
a twin-sized deathbed deathbed in apt. 203
     he's nothing.
     he's ever.
     he's happened.
skyscraper man on seattle time
carbon copied and eternal as saltwater as rust
invisible and tapping at the runrain window
     he's nothing.
     he's ever.
     he's happened.
skyscraper man on seattle time
climbs himself to the cosmos lightheaded perfection
ethereal visions of fullbloom love and legacy with measure
     he's nothing.
     he's ever.
     he's happened.

Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.