You weren’t here to hear me speak my first words,
But you heard me say ‘Papa’
No one ever did before
You gave meaning to a word that meant nothing to me
You didn’t watch me take my first step as a baby
But you helped me up every time I fell
Oceans apart you stay
Closest to my heart you are
Your smile, you laughter, your words and your silence
They mean so much to me
In your heart is where I wanna be
Every day and always.
Through your mind, I want to run
Every time you’re down
I want to be your smile
When cry is all you want to
Happy Birthday My Handsome!
Piece of my heart,
So far far away,
Yet so so precious.
Happy Birthday Papa.
You smell of memories,
And when I’m with you,
The scent of sadness permeates the air,
Leaving me gasping for breath.
You smell of yearning,
You smell of lust,
You smell of longing,
You smell of thirst.
Darling, you smell of me.
PC – Anastasia Smurova.
Sometimes we love people too much,
Love is responsibility.
Love is ache waiting to be felt.
Love is a tragedy in the making.
Love is beautiful.
Love makes you do all the things you yourself wouldn’t approve of.
Love pushes you to the point that you do not recognize yourself.
And if that love is poison to someone.
It’s best to let it go.
Sometimes we love people too much to keep them in our lives.
Six. Love is knowing he cares even though sometimes he fails to tell or show.
Five. Love is knowing his embrace holds the power to heal every wound this world can cause.
Four. Love is knowing he will strive to make me smile. No. Matter. What.
Three. Love is looking into his eyes and seeing the compassion, the tenderness and the yearning.
Two. Love is being able to be me, unapologetically and still knowing he wouldn’t judge, or call out names. He will try to make me the best that I can be.
And one. Love is knowing the good and the bad within me and yet sticking around for 6 years.
PS: You never visit my blog or read my poems, so here’s me getting you to do both. Happy 6 Ady, and thanks for all the joys, sadness, craziness, laughter all these years.
She fell in love. From the moment they first argued and she saw herself losing. She lost to no one and yet, here she was falling and failing completely. not knowing what hit her. Love. May be.
The seemingly everlasting nights, welcoming the sun light like a mother embracing a child after a long day at school. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t lay awake without having him traverse her thoughts, to and fro. she was falling, my friend, she was failing completely, not knowing what hit her.
You think I’m foolish,
I do not comprehend…
The things that transpire behind my back.
Let me tell you this,
But it’s good to be foolish,
Than to be wise.
For this world sees not with kindness
On those who fight,
Test of our patience.
Let me be stupid,
And away from all the games you play.
You, who claim to be mine.
I seek not your approval.
I seek not your love.
I seek the stupidity of an infamous fool.
The rebellion of the sorrow in a cave, temptress on walls and a blade to succumb too.
Let’s drill deep, further seep, into the shell. So safe so dark so at home why won’t the edges blur? Why won’t the world melt?
Scratches along the walls, the wolf behind this cage. How shallow seems the sand and how horridly the edges peel away.
You can’t hear him howling, nor can you feel his pain. You can only stare at the ferocious creature. So tamed by his own rage.
Writhing in my own monstrosity, I envelope in the arms of heartache, Fuming I curl helpless, bleeding on my own page.
The wolf peering at me through the mirror. Is it me I should be afraid of? Or is it the human face that hides the monster?
Stalk slow, Die slow. A tyrant stirs, Resilient every feeling so crippled. It’s my wake, your memory and the their ripples. . .
So engulfed in your wrath that you spill from your bones. Blood to dry your tears. Hope to slaughter love. Laugh you sinner.
Jeer while you can, the tides may turn and the caves may light up. Hope lies in shadows of fears, dare to love and fear to breathe
Blithering wind. Scorching warmth. Are you not frightened of the agonizing, terrorizing nothingness? Your soul withers.
My soul withers where wombs lay bare, as pure as sin and half as fair. Stones unturned and sorrow I’ve had my share.
Yet I smile with my life laid bare. At your feet. Where you kick and curse. Sweet.
I scream everything down, the caves painted grey and love burnt for warmth. Hide…hide…hide.
~ By Varun Chakravarty & Mitchelle Rozario Jansen
Checkout Varun’s other works on http://stateofmaroon.wordpress.com/
Should I just let the door CLOSE, and shut out the voices?
Or should I fight, knowing it’s a lost battle?
Should I pick up the pieces?
Or should I DANCE on them and watch the colours unfurl!
Are you going to just WATCH as I bare myself, moment by moment, piece by piece, one by one, to one and all?
Aren’t you going to stop me? Slap me? Shake me from my trance?
Do you delight in my reverie?
Now what, sweetheart?
Is there no beginning after this end?
There should be, the stories say so,
Legend says so
History isn’t going to REPEAT itself?
But mama made me believe…
And I believed. Sadly, I still do.
This is going to CHANGE, right darling?
You’ll wake up any moment now,
Abandon your grave and hug me tight?
I can’t hear you.
You’re scaring me!
Don’t joke with me anymore!
Just SPEAK to me once baby,
Tell me love…
She sunk further in to the mess she, so beautifully, created,
Every fissure carved out with love,
Every hammer rammed through with passion,
Every cut traced out and made with precision,
Meticulous detailing of the cracks,
Scratched out blue wallpaper…
She breathed the mess through her soul and it came to be!
Her inspiration, you ask?
Oh! nothing really,
Just her heart.
Just her old, tattered, torn, little heart.
Sometimes I miss you
But I guess I shouldn’t
I’ve only to close my eyes and I’ll feel your embrace
I’ve only to hum our song and I’ll hear your sweet voice
I’ve only to remember and I’d find your lips meeting mine
I’ve only to lose myself and my soul shall drift to you
I guess I don’t need to miss you
It is you in I and I in you
Or is it?
She didn’t mourn during the last rites. Numb with bereavement, she stood motionless.
They lowered his body into the earth and therewith buried her spirit.
She had not wept at all in days. They shook her, wailed, brought forth memories of him, but to no avail.
She had lost the will to feel…
Read and please vote for the full piece here:
We’re afraid to face ourselves.
We’re afraid of what it might do to us,
Even worse, what we might never be able to do, ever again.
Once the truth is spilled from our lips,
Ones ugliness is made known.
We feed ourselves with pride and then with guilt.
We revolt harmony,
We treat it like we would an enemy.
But why should it matter?
We do what we think we should.
We do what we must.
And in doing so there should be no remorse,
Only contentment, that we did what we truly wanted.
There’s great joy in being who you truly are.
No matter how crude, lonely, gruesome, painful it gets.
It’s a beautiful melody when we reveal the true ugliness of our soul.
It brings a very evident change in us, celebrates our liberty and all that we are, is made known to all and sundry.
She staggered through the desert, not stopping for breath, or water.
She recognized that the only way to conquer fear is to saunter on.
And so she did.
She held her anguish close to her bosom
A mother looking over her nursling
Glancing at it through the fissure
She wanted to ascertain her own desolation
It gave her courage.
You see, that’s how she was reminded of her mission, her machination, her need and her want.
Having walked on for miles, she lost all strength.
But she reminded herself, time and again, to not lose her will.
There’s some formidable power in misery that makes us do crazy things,
And do them well!
Hope began to lose its grip.
Because there was nothing but the vast desert, the sand, as far as the eye could see.
She began to cry until her tears ran dry and the sky put on its dark cloak.
It was only by the end of her journey that she began to run.
She could finally see the gallows.
Surrounded by voices from her past
Regret, shame, guilt, selfishness, greed, intemperance, love, care, tenderness were bawling their displeasure in the open.
She ran to her fate
Embraced it like it was her lover
Kissing it with a fierce passion
It was her time to bid adieu
And she did
With a beauteous smile
Now that’s a goodbye!
Sometimes all you need is for someone to understand you.
For someone to overlook the inequities and embrace the flaws.
For someone to let you scrape your knee and let the tears roll by.
Sit with you, laughing, when you’ve fallen, face down, in a muddy puddle.
Clap, when you’re on stage terribly nervous.
Hug you when you want to be left alone.
Walks in your shoes instead of judging you,
But never lets your selfishness go unnoticed
Holds your hand through the proverbial storm
Sticks a foot in the door when you’re closing them out
Gifts you a book, knowing you’ll probably end up weeping all night reading it,
Knowing also, that the gesture would brighten your heart
Sometimes you wish you weren’t loved.
I wish so much for you to go, and grow and be.
I wish so much for you to leave.
But somehow, somewhere it’s difficult to say.
It has been difficult to feel.
The possibility of a together tomorrow is tempting.
It’s tempting because somehow I know It’s unattainable.
And I’m OK with it being so.
And yet, it’s difficult to see it happen.
I’ve wished too much lately,
But here are a few more,
You see it doesn’t hurt to dream.
So I wish,
I wish, that when the rain pours down on your face, you miss me,
When the same sun shines upon your frame, you miss me,
When the same moon kisses you under the night sky, you miss me,
When morning comes, you smile, knowing I miss you.
When the night puts on its armor you let down your guard and you miss me.
Is that too much to ask?
I think it is.
You see, no one said love would be easy.
There’s a price to pay,
For every thought that passes our vulgar mind.
The sand holds no answers,
Yet we kiss it with our anxious feet.
We let the waters caress our soul,
In hope that freedom will be ours when dawn approaches
We let our minds drift with the winds,
They brush the horizon and there’s a momentary gleam in our eyes.
Hope is a killer.
A killer we mould with our very own hands.
Hope is the glass house,
We build or tear down as we please.
Is there no way to let our hearts go numb?
Is there no way to feel but not shatter?
Is there no way to let go off that which we have no control over?
Is there no way to free ourselves from ourselves?
I guess there isn’t.
So let’s move with the waves.
Let the cold outside brew the cold within.
And let’s just float away.
Far, Far and away
To somewhere we don’t want to go.
To a land or water or sky we won’t call home.
Let’s just leave to never return.
And Some Days I Like To Let Myself Be.
Oh, It Does Get Exasperating,
It’s Unnerving, This Joy Brewing Within
But The realization That It Won’t Last
Turmoil Is Not Just A Phase
It’s A Way Of Life For Some People
Some People Like Me
People Who Don’t See The Point In Being Happy All The Time
People Who Don’t Mind The Ache
People Who’ve Found A Way To Tread On The Frozen River Of Sorrow And Loneliness
Self Enforced Sorrow And Loneliness…
Living Perpetually In Fear
Wanting Nothing More Than To Just Sink
And Get It Over With
But Some days
We Love To Break Away From The Mundane Obligation Of Being Miserable
And We Smile. A full, Broken Hearted, Smile
Who Doesn’t Like Change…
Even If For A Little While.
Patte jo shaakhon se toote
Bewajah toh nahin roothe, hain sabhi..
The solitary being doesn’t need anybody.
It loves company,
Revels in laughter and belongingness,
But does it need them?
It was forced to thrive in ruins and it did. Alone.
The self’s conversation with loneliness
Is one of great wisdom,
The colloquy of that which doesn’t exist,
That which could be,
And that which can never come to be
It leaves the heart brooding over meaningless incidents,
Scarring even the beauty that once was
And you watch
And you yell
And you spit venom
Because that’s all you’ve known to do well
Me, Me, Me.
I, I, I.
And that’s all that matters.
It has the power to heal.
It is your saving grace.
It is your escape.
When the world is closing in on you.
It will show you the horizon.
Open a new avenue.
It smells sweet.
The beautiful scent of knowledge and power.
It’s your healer.
It’s your friend.
It’s your solace.
It’s your refuge.
Your perfect hiding place.
You’ll lose them all,
And then you’ll lose sleep over what’s lost.
You’ll lose your life,
You’ll lose your happiness,
You’ll lose everything you’ve lived for.
And then one day,
You’ll see how futile it was.
How utterly ignorant you were,
How ungrateful you turned.
And you’ll be ashamed
You let hurt, burn your life, taint your soul
Rotten your mind, disfigure you beyond recognition.
When all you had to do was look away.
In to the love that was standing at the door.
Imploring you to embrace it.
But you were naive. Stupid.
That counts for more.