i was not prepared for something like this to
happen

i thought we were never suppose to talk again

because of the choice i made almost a year ago

but here you are slowly making it into my life again

i can’t decide if this is for better or for worst

i want to see the bright side of this i really do

though when i start to really think about it all

my anxiety gets the best of me

im ready to see what happens next

Two scarabs, we …
hurtling through the universe.
On a collision course, I've yet to decide
is a blessing … or a curse.

You preferred Rubber
and I, the Revolver.
You, ever cryptic
and I, problem solver.

Between us …
so, so many syncronicites.
I … would try my best to be a rock.
You … relished in duplicities.

The essence of these …
born in your youth, a precious defense mechanism.
Still … I always admired your noble quest
for that ever elusive perfectionism.

Two Scarabs, we … both carved from precious stone.
Restless souls, forever seeking shelter.
Roaming through time … reckless … wild ...
our lives, whirling 'round … slippery … helter skelter.

But yours, made of of rubber …
mine, made of steel …
each with our reasons, bounced off of one another …
offering nothing for the other to feel.

I'll watch for you, while saying my prayers …
out there … on the sands.
Maybe next time, with the blessing of Ra, it won't fall away …
like these grains, slipping through our hands.

Two scarabs, we …
on an infinite collision course …
while forever hurtling through the universe.
A blessing that, this time … sad as it is …
somehow, came to feel like a curse.

I've got pictures living in my phone
Of people I haven't checked on in years,
It's weird how long I've been alone.

Standing there,
Light bouncing gracefully,
Off your auburn hair,
You are more than I could ever imagine,
You might be when we first met,
But now you're here,
And I let you have all my secrets without a thought

You are never far, always near
In case I ever (always) need you,
You don't tell me you love me,
And nor do I to you,
Simply because we don't need words to see it

We fight for each other,
Defend till the very last breath,
And cover the charcoal tracks,
Of acts maybe we shouldn't of commit,
We gift each other with smiles and laughter,
And acts of care not visible to the passerby,
But that can be seen bright and colourful in our eyes

We share endless calls sitting on bedroom floors,
Scattered with reminders of each others presence,
Lent books, borrowed clothes and past birthday presents,
All coloured in by you

You're not a loud bang of care,
But a quiet friend who is always there,
Whether I need you deperately or not,
So don't think you'll ever be forgot,
By those who paint in gold,
And who's love is told,
Because though they are magical,
And light up unknown fires inside of me,
You will always be the glowing orange,
And even in the background,
I'll still hear you just as loud.

Ever since I left,
it was difficult to go back.
Sometimes too much has changed,
old friends become strangers.
People I can't even recognize.
Core values have changed,
and it seems the person I once knew is forever lost.
Other times,
it's just enough change to carry out a conversation.
It's fun to talk about past adventures,
but it gives me a sorrowful smile.
Most of you are strangers to me now,
but I still smile and laugh through the small talk.
Maybe I'm the stranger.

Faces , so many faces
Once, you knew the ones
Lost them to time and Grind.

Reminded of the Ones
Who've touched your heart
Bringing in memories of your
Younger days.

Mr and Mrs Joshi
The Octogenarian Couple
Dear friends of Mine.

My acquaintance with them
Is almost two decades old
Met them as a youngster

Felt a deep connect
One could not miss the warmth
Held in the eyes of both

Always greeted them
While on the way to College,
while running errands for my mother
Or while on a walk

Never paid them a visit
Home
Although

Full of wisdom
Sharing the same , with me
As and when time permitted Us.

Retired From Govt Services
Wanting to spend their golden years
In a place well known
For
temples and quiet .

A city ,
far removed from the hustle and bustle of the big city life .

A place to call home
With visitors few
But ,welcome all.

Hello, old friends -
Its about time that we met again
To read and hear and cry and cheer
Through stories and poems of
Misfortune, adventure -
Romantic in nature? Perhaps
If I were to find a muse...
But hey, that's old news.
I want to be a part of this place, again
I want to inspire
And be inspired,
To feel deeply, the desire
Of others through the words they have left
To be admired by those searching for depth,
Or strength or will or answers
To what comes next -
I want to feel love's toll upon me,
I want to be destroyed completely
Through genius words of poetic degree,
Through pain and suffering and unbridled fury
Once again to live a brief summary of
Another soul's story - and in return,
To open myself for the world to see,
In hopes that my words help set you free
Just as all yours have done for me...

I missed you all, I missed the call,
The craft in penning glimpses of my soul
And hoping someone else in this
Forgotten corner of the web
Would read my work, where they'd ebb,
And flow in understanding
That my words are the love I have
For those who made me who I am,
When they had nothing to my name,
For those who helped me fall...
And left me in disdain
And yet, I feel not sorrow nor pain.
I know good and bad
Come as one and the same -

So I'll greet you, my old friends,
When paper meets my pen,
Where my thoughts end, and ink begins
It is there that I will rise again.