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Isabella Terry Jul 2016
Hello there!
It’s me, your prize-winning, intellectual, “gifted” brain!
I’m here to tell you that everything you’re doing is wrong.
Remember that conversation that you thought went well?
You’re wrong. Think again.

Oh, and also, all of your friends secretly hate you.
You annoy them all.
In fact, the apparitions probably lurking around the corner hate you too.
And they have weapons.

Also, you should probably just give up on life.
I mean, you’re a terrible person.
Honestly, I can’t tell you a single good thing about yourself.
How do you ignore the fact that everyone hates you?

One more thing.
Are you suuuuuure your God is real?
Because I’m not.
And… even if he is, you kind of **** as a believer and as a person anyways, so you’re kind of *******.

Well, nice chatting with you!
Go on. Have a good day!
And don’t forget what I told you…
//sigh//
it's auto Jul 2015
i miss the dogfight
of our teeth squaring off
in a shiny mirror.

you could call our canines
moon kernels or portents,
but the sentiment

is sharper. the poem
tautology to a bracelet
of crescent dents.

self-portrait: light
shadow, shadow, light.
a plane reflecting

other planes, an edge
biting an edge, biting
an edge, bitten.

the bracelet tautology
to a skyline sans sky,
one wedge of evening

held in your periphery.
i press my fingers
into a warm glass throat.
K Balachandran Nov 2014
"Department of space' a signboard shouts aloud
to my perplexity of that moment, it adds
before mind's eye I see the great enigma personified
and try to reason,"Oh! fathomless vastitude, mostly dark
what need you've this quaint building, that before you
would be a frightened Indian bride at her first night?"
Yes, the puny little "department" is not all space, it implies,
has a purpose limited than how it sounds: grandiose!
one doesn't even has any inkling,
what all these means, but a scribe, I have  a thing
with all these seeming inanities, that's the funny part.

Marveling it's esoteric architecture and mulling over
the concept of bringing the limitless to the minuscule,
just enough for a department of government to deal with,
I wait for bus, a personification of impatience, curse the circumstances,
fear reaching late for my appointment, with an eminent scientist.

Fuming against the haphazard, public transport system in this town,
while appreciating the red brick architecture, acts contrary
and make me a bundle of nerves.
Then she 'happens', that's the word
wasn't I looking for an escape from it all?
Freeze, i did, she, to be precise,  her figure was
nothing less than  a show stopper,one should admit.

Her dress, gladly left nothing to guess, and those dark eyes
from the other end of the bus stop eagerly sought me
as if I am assigned officially to pay all her pending bills!

From all round swarms of humming birds, eager admiring eyes
were chasing her, the moment  was an explosion of chrysanthemums ,
for me,  she and I , two spirited dancers on a stage,
(a scene fashioned in my mind, unfolded there ,it seemed)

Am i not to honor commitment as a responsible journalist?
an appointment was fixed with the nuclear physicist,  
with great difficulty it was done, on the way my car conked,
at the nick of the moment, i am here eagerness and anxiety
combined , fighting many demons at once, give me a break..

Yet here i am, finding time to fall in love, like yet another accident,
how fickle is my mind, I'd make any one submit
in an argument, but this red, ripened lips,are alluring
infest my thoughts, those dark eyes plead for love of course,
makes me feel like running to her, true love  may appear even here.

at that moments of dilemma I was another Buridan's ***
wants to do both but can't do one even;
and precisely then  my cell phone rings,
on the other end the nuclear scientist sounds apologetic,
my heart started to pound in my ears, does she want to cancel
the appointment for the day, postponed to another day?
I didn't listen her words, those eyes were scorching me alive.
King David Apr 2014
The things that I surmise
With my wide open eyes
Are that I know absolutely nothing of my place in the cosmos
And I don't mean to boast but I understand alot more than most    
But is this a gift or a curse, an inner voice asks whats the cost?
This mind of mine, constantly fixated on the why
The constant nagging of the pursuit of truth ticking away with the time
Questions often asked come to no finite resolution
They just fill my head with paralyzing smog and pollution
Should i long to have the splendid peace of the simple fool, no
This is my blessing and my burden, and my mind is my tool.
Brianna Elise Aug 2014
Verily I wait for you,
Steady as a ******
Guiding his vessel
Through choppy, blackened seas.
I remain steadfast;
A sentinel by the telephone.
Hours pass and I remain,
Fidelity has hardened me
To the passing of time.
All I do is wait for you,
To hear your voice,
To see your face,
To make you real again.
How much longer must I stay here?
I wonder without moving.
I doubt but never waver.
At the risk of bitter heartache,
I wait to be rewarded by your "hello."

— The End —