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

All I had was yours

 


I sit on the park bench alone,

And feel my heart quiver…

The birds twitter,

The newspaper flutters,

Trying to lift off in vain.

I sit on the park bench alone,

And feel something etch my heart

As the crumbled paper is pushed by the wind

Towards the bin,

Rasping as it moves along…

I sit on the park bench alone,

And search myself for substance.

I discover

That I have nothing.

All the smiles,

The tears,

The sunshine and subtle touch…

All the grey clouds,

And bright orange rhythms

That constituted my heartbeats

Are no longer there.

There is no flower,

No dew,

No music,

No madness…

Because I have nothing

And all I had

Was yours…


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Can't death come quick?

 A flower fell off a bouquet, And someone stepped on it. And they all went about with their business. But I can’t help but stare at it; The act of hastening death. Everyone went about their business. But I can’t help but stare at it; The dewless petals, The red colour blackening with the creeping shadow of death, The stalk separated from the head Like with a guillotine. It might have been plucked from it's family, From the other flowers. But it's okay. They'll die as well. It's just that this flower will die faster. But in this world where everything happens in a rush, Can’t death do the same?
2 comments
Read more

Footprints

 Is the beach devoid of footprints Or are there so many that they bury each other. Either way, it's the same. There is no path for anyone to follow. And no one can make a new path that lasts, Because one buries the other. Then some people try to surf; At least, Those lines in the water will last longer. Is the beach devoid of footprints Or are there so many that they bury each other. Either way, No one goes anywhere while being noticed.
Post a Comment
Read more

This morning

The yellow light squeezes between buildings Like a gentle beast, Tickling the windows like petals on water. The yellow light squeezes between buildings And the noise wakes me up. I open the window; A yellow finger patting my head, Making me giggle like a child. There is smoke, There is noise, There are the cranes rotating about the horizon. But there is you as well, Yellow beast… There is you as well, Mighty beast. There is smoke there is noise, There is the smell of coal and tar. But there is you as well, Yellow beast… There is you as well, Mighty beast. And that’s all I need…
1 comment
Read more