who'll hold your memories
recite them like a fabled story
a land
where you held hands
leaving a long trail under infinite sky?

who'll hold your urn
enshrine it as a priceless relic
when you exile
far far away
where heaven is called a home ?

Her musky, aged, antique smell.
Every wrinkle on her face had a tale to tell.
Cracks on her palms, treasured stories of hardships & struggles.
Walked with a limp, like a boulder on her shoulder back.
Didn't fall even with the deepest toe crack.
I lay my head on her motherly warm lap.
Her silvery smooth flowing hair,
gleamed with pride for her only heir.
She caressed my hair, sent chills down my spine.
Don't you worry grandma, down here everything is (not so) fine.
Wish you were here for me when I need you the most.
I will be there in the stars, will meet you once I'm mighty close.

I miss you, grandma.

a lightning struck
bending my elastic brain
words trying to escape my thick confined skin
dripping a story of an orchid around a pale pink swirl
as every line, every rhyme grew through my bones

took a break that I shouldn't have to take
to loosen myself in the ***** room
so were my thoughts loosen down the whirlpool  

came back to a dried up nib
to a smoked up lightning in the air
to an unchargeable cloud over my hair
alas, was left with a piece of paper
staring right back at me
with an empty verse