"birthdates" poems
I've let the world know that I love you (though my soul has loved you longer than my bones have known you) for 366 days now. I don't know how many days make up the centuries to come, but whichever the number is will be the number they put in the record books. "The Man Who Was Loved the Most and the Longest" the photograph will be of you, smiling aged in a worn out chair, wrinkled eyes and grayed hairs. And i'll be there, leaning into your side with a smile wider than any famous canal, prouder than any other historical landmark. Stronger than any ship that's sailed earth's raging waters.
Yeah, we'll own the record books and the text books and the bibles to come. Each page will have our names written somewhere, microscopic in the ink of every line and every marking will be with our love laced. There won't be a pixel without a hex code that doesn't decipher in beyond cryptic ways to our lattitudes/longitudes, names or even our own birthdates or anniversary dates. No one will know it, but we're gonna rule the world someday. Now be it so that the world we rule will not the same as the world the Other's know, it will be the world just the same. Though what we'll conquer will exist in only invisible dimensional planes (such as our brains), it's still ours to take.
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 8:01 AM UTC
Coming to think of it
I've come across many perfect souls
The souls where everything fell in place so well with mine
The coincidental matching clothes
The not-so coincidental birthdates
But as i grew older,
I realized more and more
For the soul I'm looking for
Is a not too perfect one
He's the one with a broken heart that fits mine
He's the one who's flaws that loves mine
And in the end
Him who I will love
Loves me for who I am
And I guess that's what makes me love him
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 2:13 PM UTC
We, after years,
run into each other in the deli
you with your children,
I with none,
exchanging pleasantries
and introductions
and effusive promises to keep in touch.
You tell me about your burgeoning family,
but I do not hear you --
your voice is a static of statistics:
ages, birthdates, soccer victories, grade point averages...
As you talk
all I can think about
is the pale blush of your *******
and the little row of sweet kisses
I left between them
so long ago.
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 12:47 PM UTC
I wonder what would happen if I die
Of course, my family would weep at my final goodbye
But would you reminisce our memories and just cry?
I think I would be lost like a candle during the noon
Like a little star between miriads of twinkling stars and moon
And just like a drop of water in the huge ocean
Just like a grown up man forgets his childish smile
And like the birthdates of our loved ones after some years while
I would be forgotten from your momories just like that
But there is a ray of hope that you would miss me
Like the desert misses the rain
Like a lost traveller misses his home
Like a child during his sleepless nights misses his beloved mom
But hey, one thing is sure that
I would miss you even in this life
And I would miss you if there is life beyond my demise
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 10:53 PM UTC
Sent some flowers the other day
to a friend who’d lost life’s loves,
kith and kin, too often
over the years.
Loves & Lives Lost,
too many fears realised…
Birthdates after death,
death-dates after life
they concertina together
to cause concerning days, weeks,
months. And, commiserations come in
in a flurry sometimes and amplify the hurt.
As time rolls on it's strange
how anniversaries come in bunches!
Just for the moment it seems that all
the good things are in the past…
But let’s look forward to warmth,
comfort and re-assurance from
memories of friends, family,
partners and loved ones - at last.
Jun 30, 2020
Jun 30, 2020 at 7:28 AM UTC