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Loud Rain

The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
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Neon and jazz

 I see streets

Flashing in dull neon lights;

Flashing like they would fall asleep.

Jazz pours out

From some bar,

Club,

budding musician.

It is a therapy

To look down from a tall building

At night

And see this,

Hear this.

There is something in the absence,

Something in the boisterous silence

Of a never-sleeping city.

It clears the mind

To realize

That such dull light

Is enough.

It clears the mind

To realize

That such music

Is enough.

We don’t want what we think we want.

What we really want

Is this;

A view

From the top of a tall building,

To realize

We have all we need.


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