Skip to main content

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…
Post a Comment

The absurd

 There is a straw in the glass.

But there is no juice.

There is a straw in the glass,

Never removed,

As if it was kept there to suck up air;

As if the air in the glass is somehow different.

There is so much absurdity;

Threads of so many different colours through the hole

On the same needle.

There is so much absurdity,

That logic is useless.

That's why

We have art,

That's why

We have those friendly lads with tattoos,

Doing crazy stuff on a packed road.

That's why

We have mystery,

Poetry,

The dry leaf that balances on the rim of the bin

Without falling in or out.

They build systems,

They build roads

That claim to reach places.

We have tried to curb the absurdity

And failed miserably.

We have tried

And realized we shouldn’t try.

We have tried

And learned to embrace the different,

The poetic,

The absurd.

There is a beauty in it.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Enlightenment

 One day coldplay came on radio And lifted my roof. I could see the sky And faces I wanted to forget And flowers I could not smell in the clouds; Flashing lights, Gunshots, Dances with some woman I’very never met. Oh Coldplay! Oh Tchaikovsky! How do you know The pain of one man out of the hundreds of thousands. How do you know what I’d forgotten. How can you care more than all I’ve met. You have more life than most people Because you have a soul. And a soul in man is rarer than the scriptures say. And a soul in man is dead if it still exists anywhere. Oh Coldplay! Oh Tchaikovsky! How do you know The pain of one man out of the hundreds of thousands. One day coldplay came on radio And lifted my roof. But then it fell on my chest And crushed me to a pillow of tears.
Post a Comment
Read more

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…
Post a Comment
Read more

The days

 The days float quietly Like a bubble on a cup of coffee, Going round and round With the entire ceiling reflected on in; A ceiling that’s cracked And lacking paint here and there As if covered by blisters That never seem to heal… Blisters inflicted By age and moss, That expand… With the paint falling off But by bit. One day a scratch of paint will fall into the cup And pop the bubble, Making the tea forget All that it saw of the ceiling… Making the tea forget That it itself exists…
Post a Comment
Read more