Poetry, Quill

Uncertainty

I’m certain I’m there,
Though I don’t know for sure,
And perhaps I want to believe.

I want to be better,
I tried, I swear,
I tried to never be me.

And that’s what you want,
Oh look here we are,
It was never enough to be me.

Go on then father,
Blessed be thy name,
Go on and make me complete.

Colour your blade,
Bind me in chains,
Slay me or just let me be.

Poetry, Quill

Unspoken

and then there was him,
with his glazed eyes,
he sits and stares
the night sky
wondering “where it all went wrong”
it causes him to scream inside
yet with his face so sweet,
you see nothing but a smile
hiding unspoken words
reciting a poem of his heart.

Poetry, Quill

Rainfall

I sometimes like to walk in the rain,
I find myself being me.

Hundreds of thousands of drops of paint,
What is this freedom I breathe?

And then shhh silence,
No fall anymore.

Penchant for sadness,
Never was I sure.

Finish this wonder,
Be gone, my love.

Bring back my teardrops,
My pearls from above.

Poetry, Quill

Street Number 5

Just beside the corner

Along the turn

Where the sidewalk bent

A narrow path

Of shadows, spaces and similarities

Shadows between spaces

Spaces with similarities

Similarities of differences

Walking-tracing imprint left of silhouettes

Faint trails filling straits of void

And short steps covering their lenghts

Just beside the corners

Where the sidewalk bent

A pave, rather weary

With leaves, life and imprints

Leaves of life

Life amongst imprints

Imprints with verve

Ambling-unearthing the beauty of the silhouttes

Vivid reflection bore rills of tranquility

Thus blest the bends ahead.

Poetry

Alive //

// i feel heaviness in my limbs
hurt in my chest
hope on overgrown cuticles
they say i look dead
but i have never felt more alive
never quite realised how heavy
the burden of breathing is. //

Poetry, Quill

Bravehearts In A War

Bravehearts often fall asleep,
With wounds inside their minds,
Yet silently they wash away,
Crimson off their eyes,

War is noble, war is good,
Preach it to a child,
And soon enough all it knows,
Is war torments the kind,

And all you wanted was for men,
To be vicious and vile,
To slay your foe, to be an end,
To all that made one smile,

You wanted war and all was lost,
Beasts kept running wild,
You might’ve won, but at what cost,
Again, I see that child,

Guillotine upon your neck,
A fire in its eyes,
Alas a monster that you made,
Was causing your demise,

“Don’t be scared now, be a man”,
I hear it in my brain,
I’m still afraid and I’ll always be,
But I’ll be a man again,

“Cry like a man”, I’ll tell my child,
For I know those tears are pure,
He’ll be whatever he wants to be,
Of that I will make sure,
I hope he opens up to me,
So those wounds could still be cured,
Oh what a braveheart that must be,
Unafraid to be insecure.

Poetry, Quill

The Woman I Love

Dear Mother
She’s beautiful
A little dark complexion
With beautifully highlighted features
Her arms exposing the stories of her life,
And oh her words, the way they make me smile.
She’s everything you said my life partner should be
Mother, She’s everything I need.

Dear mother,
I am scared
I do not really know how you would feel
Or react perhaps, when the love of my life would you meet.

But didn’t you always tell me that she’s a safe place?
When at the age of 12 you
taught me the difference between a male and a female.
When a ‘girl’ friend meant ‘perfect’
And a ‘guy’ friend meant ‘slut’
Then why today when I am in love with a girl,
Am I looked down upon?
Why is it not okay?

When at the age of 20, it was suddenly okay to bring women inside my bedroom
But not men. . .
Then why when today I want to bring her home,
Is it not okay?

When in 7th standard I walked my way back from school to home,
Were you not the one who said ‘Baby, befriend
girls and do not let any guy travel the distance with you’
Then why when today I want to walk
the aisle of my life with her,
Is it not okay???? You are deemed ‘the perfect girl’ your entire life
for you did exactly what they said.
What’s that? You may ask
Well, for starters you had around You more of females
And less of these men they called ‘beast’
Main course had these dishes with extra flowing repellant behaviour towards male friends
And the delicious desert offered you the opportunity to finally be semi-naked inside your bedroom with your girl-friends,
Then why today when you want that one girl around for the rest of your life,
Is it not okay?

When sharing the same lady’s room is the rule,
When listening to ‘Hey I like your bra’ is the ultimate goal
Then why today when my body aches to touch her, to love her
Is it a sin?
Why is it not Okay?

Dear society,
Love is boundless
Love is the purest form of life
Then why my love is not loving?
Why I have limits, laws claiming me
Holding me in shackles
Why the same girl everyone loved,
The same girl termed pure
Is now a disgrace. . .

Poetry

Pretty Empty

The air smells like a wildfire,
And I keep breathing it in,
I’ve found myself drawn to windows,
And balconies keep whispering,
They love it when I’m not around,
It’s silent and I make it grim,
Some things are best left emptied out,
It’s pretty when it’s never seen,
Perhaps that’s why I feel a void,
A void where no one’s ever been,
It’s pretty enough to hurt my eyes,
It’s best to leave it buried within,
I wish to come another time,
But I wouldn’t dare to begin.

Poetry

I Saw You Lying

It was a normal afternoon,
Cappuccino mugs; crescent rolls,
Decorative crystal pots,
Under the blaze of clear skies.
She was lying there wondering,
Drowning in the sweet misery,
As he was sabotaging the ties of their relationship,
Little water droplets running down her rosy red cheeks,
Coming from somewhere lying deep down inside her heart,
With a Mozart song playing in background,
Her heart is racing ; it’s pounding and deafening
The beatings,the words, he left her weak but her heart can’t let go,
She wants to hate him, for all the awful things he did yet she always found herself running to him,

She’s heartbroken that he looked into those eyes and lied ,
All the ‘dire’ meetings when he got ready hastily at night,
and slowly slipped into her bed at 5 am in the morning,
So she lies there,
Wondering why would she never be enough?
Wanting to mend the holes inflicted on her soul,
she knows, as soon as the bell rings,
She would open the door , whilst her mind whispers with a rasping voice like a rewinded record ,
she would be smiling at the outside, but she’s dead inside
And once more, he would smile & sleep thinking that’s he’s adept at the art of lying
And she would know that he couldn’t see the truth because he doesn’t look into her eyes anymore,

He’s the burn of a cigarette smoke,
He’s harmful,
He’s causing pain , she’s drowning in grief,
Yet she needs him, she craves him.
While he, takes a drag with his other lover.

Poetry, Quill

Phoenix

I am shoved under,
My opinion is shushed,
My soul, sundered.
Day after day, scorching my existence
Day after day, disdaining my resistants
Worldly affairs might burn me down
Turn me into ash and extol my breakdown but,
I am the PHOENIX and I’ll rise from the ground.
I am the PHOENIX and I’ll rise from the ground.