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

Searching for something

 My brother's a flower,

Used at weddings,

Used at parties,

Used at funerals;

Fitting in everywhere,

But belonging nowhere.

He's the fire dancing with the wind,

The moving shadows,

The plastic bottle rolling on the sidewalk

With the wind;

Ignored,

Not placed at it's rightful place.

He hasn’t found himself.

He's the butterfly

Staying on a single flower,

Afraid of flying too far,

Afraid to explore the other flowers,

Fearing he'll not find a sweeter one

Than the one he sits on.

He hasn’t found himself.

And they called him lazy;

But I know he is not.

He is just afraid,

Scared of not being noticed.

He's just afraid

Of our parents,

Society,

Change.

He'll have to jump from flower to flower

To find the sweetest one.

And I hope

He'll find it one day.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Magic and logic

 A white horse with wings Can come out of the ocean, Cats afraid of water Can develop a taste for fish, Bats dying on power lines  Still roam around at night. Logic is not enough in this world. Logic is not enough When a rhinoceros chases you through the Savannah. Nature steps in And tells you to run for your life. It doesn’t tell you to wait And make a trap in the sand. Maybe The weird is just what has not become logic yet. But Should we make it logic? Should we really ooze out the magic in everything? We have become Too smart. We have become Too selfish. We have become  Too organised, Too fixed our ways. And we don’t see the magic in anything.
Post a Comment
Read more

I'll tell her

 I want to tell her, But she might be seeing me as a friend. I want to tell her, But what if she doesn't like it. I've always been that dreamy kid Sitting in some corner, On some bench, Ignored, Marked as absent by the teacher. I've always been that dreamy kid Everyone gossips about. No one has come close. No one has the courage To look into my eyes and see the lava Popping bubbles in me. No one has the courage To look at these hanging spikes of ice, Waiting to fall on the young deer with broken legs. But she saw it. She doesn’t feel the heat, But she at least counts the popping bubbles. She doesn’t feel the heat, But she's the only one who wants to. She'll push me downhill And I’ll break a rib or two. But the spikes of ice won’t fall on me. I’ll break a rib or two. But she'll take this young deer home, Wrap him in a blanket And put him near the fireplace. I want to tell her. And I have to tell her, Because she's too smart  To understand what I feel. She too...
Post a Comment
Read more

Killing loneliness

 I live alone And yet I feel a tingle now and then, As if the tiger watches through the bush outside. I live alone And yet I hear voices coming from The pipelines, The breathing curtains, The bug kissing the bulb That gets pushed away every time. I live alone And hear and see and smell what they don’t. Sometimes The loneliness eats you up And you won’t realise that the voices you hear I the crunching of that mighty jaw That chews you Slowly And slowly, Until you're eaten fully. And no one will know. Become a Patron!
Post a Comment
Read more