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the
first bike I bought ever
with my savings cost quite
a lot in relation to my income

from the shop near peters hill
where I thought the pram and

other things

when a child I had a tricycle which
broke bumping down a kerb

i remember disbelief
and devastating feelings

the next one was blue and I fell off

so I thought a blue one again
with a seat on the back & a basket
on the front

she got heavy later
too big so we took
the bus

and I used the bike for work
or walked there

i still have that bike
stored

four bikes in total ever
two second hand
two brand new

james

they say bikes are hard to get here at present
while mine is on a waiting list at the bike repair
shop in town

it will be my first visit for
months james
In an ideal
position
I'd spend more
Time
Talking to
Strangers

I'd agree
That saying
"Hell"
Is easier
Than  
"Hello"

I'd accept
My indecisive
Nature
And Balance
It all
Out
Eliminate
Self doubt

I'd know
That sometimes
Shot gun weddings
Are okay
I'd runaway
I'd leave
I'd stay

I'd finally
Consider
The prize
Of my own
Perspective
With the limited
Connections
Even keeping
Me going

I'd sit up
Lay down
Walk around
Give enough
Of a ****
I would never
Think to
Quit

I'd make everyone
Happy
Even myself
But instead
...

Hell
adulting

partial cred to Timothy Brown for speaking the right words
We're both provoked
By boredom
Same age
Still shakin'
Our childish ways
Bad at listening
Unless the times
Are right,
Especially at night

Our parents care,
I swear
Bad at raising
Good at naming

All the funny
Coincidences
To take you to
The moon
And back

"C'est la vie"

I wish it'd never end

Remind me tomorrow
I'll tell you again
random combos of late night thoughts and a sleeping pill
There was a flower, blossoming on the shoreline. Beholding the serenity of the seas and criticising the rise and fall of the indomitable tides.

It swayed in the balmy air and loathed the dusty storms.

It adored the sun's radiance and mourned the moon's norms.

It extolled the aesthetics and execrated the wrongs.

It denied the nectar but appreciated the honeycomb.

There was a peyote, living in the dreary sands. Mesmerized by the great dunes, standing like a tomb.

Relishing the scanty rains with much aplomb.

It grows its roots in the search of water,  many call it a coxcomb.

Such is the folk, unaware of the real beauty for so long!

                                    - Swasti Jain
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