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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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Bamboo at school

 There was bamboo at school,

Written over by names of loved ones,

Names of no longer loved ones,

Hearts with arrows.

There was bamboo at school,

And I used to sit there alone sometimes

Like the other boys and girls

Who etched in

Names of loved ones,

Names of no longer loved ones,

Hearts with arrows.

There was bamboo at school,

And some boys hid there to smoke cigarettes

And etch the first profane thing that came to mind;

Just words,

Drawings of nudity,

Or both.

Look at the bamboo now and judge them

And you'll always be wrong

About where they are now.

Life's chaotic

And they were too.

Maybe that's why they are where they are.


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