Something is different today

The music is louder. The train is gliding, instead of running. And, the people around you are more sleepy than usual. You get out of the train and you climb the stairs. It’s really dull outside. Something is different today. Today, it’s raining. But, there is something more.

The road is all muddy. And, there is a strange bokeh in the air, which can be felt and not seen. There are fewer cars than most days and you can almost imagine a train arrive in the middle of the road. Something is different today. Today, you’re in a dream. But, there’s something more.

Everything is falling apart: everything is melting. Everything is melting into darkness and whatever light there was is slowly fading into oblivion. And, someone is walking towards you, through the darkness and through the melting buildings and cars to save you. But, today there is something more. Today, you know that she is walking too slow. Today, you’ve embraced it, you’ve imagined yourself as the hero of a story and you know that heroes fall. Today, you’ve escaped.

NaPoWriMo Day 29: Wait

I would have
Loved you
I would have
If you had not stopped to.

I remember you there
Waiting for me
To be trapped in your machination
In your love, in my imagination.

Waiting for me
For us
Waiting for our world to grow
The one you had woven
Around our souls.
Waiting for me
For us
Only till you changed your world,
Only till you changed your love.

Waiting for me
To love you.
I was about to
I would have.
I could have.
If only
You had waited
A bit more.

NaPoWriMo Day 28: Bridge

In response to the optional prompt for NaPoWriMo:

And now for today’s prompt (optional, as always). Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about bridges.

If the bridge broke,
And, I am on the other side,
Would you swim the black sea?
Would you climb the hill?
Would you take a leap of faith?
From over there?
To get to me?
You would never be that far.
I wouldn’t let you.

NaPoWriMo Day 23: The Letter O

This poem is based on the NaPoWriMo Prompt for day 23:

And now for today’s prompt (optional, as always). Today, I challenge you to take a chance, literally. Find a deck of cards (regular playing cards, tarot cards, uno cards, cards from your “Cards Against Humanity” deck – whatever), shuffle it, and take a card – any card! Now, begin free-writing based on the card you’ve chosen. Keep going without stopping for five minutes

I got the letter O from Scrabble. Here it goes:

The first word
That comes to my mind
She would say
“I hate it
When you use
When you say
When you type
As a reply.
And, especially,
When you put
A full stop at the end.
Is that all?
You don’t have
Anything else
To say?
Something more poetic?
Something more romantic?
Something more funny?
Something more lovable?
I hate it
When you type okay”
And I would reply,
In the most poetic
In the most romantic
In the most funny
In the most lovable
Manner, words, feelings


NaPoWriMo Day 20: Still

The world did not stop
When you went away.

The trains still come and go
Plants still wither and grow
The birds still fly in peace
The buildings still outshine the trees.

The river never stopped to rest
The sun still sets in west
People still shout and cry
Innocent souls still do die.
Still do die.
They still do die.

The world did not stop
When you went away
I did.

The world did not stop
When you went away
I wish it had not.

NaPoWriMo Day 10: A Little Thing

This is an Abecedarian poem. The first word of first line starts with A, of the second line with B, of the third line with C and so on.

Crisp eyes
Dark complexion
Elegant demeanor
Fell in love with a
Hazel eyes
Indian complexion
Jolly demeanor
Kindling new memories
Maddening eyes
Nested bodies
One thing
People are weird
Quiet, little thing
Rusty, little thing
Sad, one little thing
Tore it all apart
Under the same sky
Violet, blue, red
Which had rejoiced in their love,
Xanthic, grey, orange
Yes, they
Zapped it all apart

NaPoWriMo Day 4: When you Look at Me

When I look at you
And, you look at me
I feel nothing but two eyes
Staring vacantly
Bound together in awkwardness
Blend in a strange aura
Just two eyes looking into mine
Looking blindly.

I don’t see the weather change
I don’t see ponies emerging from above
I don’t feel my heart rate rising
I don’t feel the love.

I don’t see it.
I don’t feel it.
When I look at you
And, you look at me
I don’t look anywhere else
I don’t see anything else
I don’t feel anything else
My eyes get fixed at yours.
Awkwardly. Calmly.
And, I drown in their depth.
Strangely. Calmly.
And, I don’t see anything else.
I don’t feel anything else.
When you look at me.

It’s All Right. It Will Be Fine.

You’re 9 and you’re sitting on a swing,
Waiting for your life to begin,
When suddenly a noise breaks your thoughts,
You get off the swing, and on the front porch.
You father comes out and steps on the land,
And, you notice the big suitcase in his hand,
You run to him and ask him what’s wrong,
He says wait for me, like they say in a song.
You smile and look straight into his eyes,
And, then, you know he is telling a lie,
Yet, you do not stop, you just let him go,
For he is too fast and you are too slow.

Your own father left you, at his own rule,
And, your mother sent you away to a boarding school.
And, yet you do not utter a cry,
It’s all right. It will be fine.

You’re 21 and you’re standing on a bridge,
The love of your life is there on that cliff,
The bridge is too low, and the cliff is too high,
Yet, you decide to just make that try,
Mustering your strength, you go so fast,
Hoping that this impact would last,
And, at such a great speed, you leave the land,
The girl, as decided, tries to grab your hand,
She tries, but is just too slow,
And, all you say is let it go.

Despite no fault of your own, you fail,
You’ve lost your love, your efforts are vain.
And, yet you do not utter a cry,
It’s all right. It will be fine.

You’re 33 and you’re going in a train,
To meet your mother on that station in pain,
You want to take her with you to that doctor,
For that you resigned from Gamble and Proctor.
You know she just never loved you, yes,
She’d left you when you were small to a boarding test,
But, yet you return, for she is your mother,
You return, for you do not want her to smother.
And, you just hope, that you might just hear,
That she loves you, after all these years,
And, with this hope, you are getting impatient,
But, the train misses her station,
And, when you return, you had just come to part,
For your mother had already taken depart.
She’d gone and with her those words,
Of a poem, the most beautiful verse.

You’ve lost your hope, your pride, your love,
You’ve lost that beautiful white dove.
And, yet, you do not utter a cry,
It’s all right. It will be fine.

You’re 45, and you’re going on the street,
Thinking about your long due treat,
When you spot an old man getting mugged,
And, you rush over there, to correct the bug.
But, the mugger glances at you in anger,
And, as you stop, you kiss the dagger,
Your body, there, falls on the ground,
Your life, as always, was death bound.
And, people, yes, they come at your aid,
But, now, is no use for any parade,
For you are now taking your last breath,
And, no man, no girl, no child could help.
As you die, the old man comes close to you,
He examines your face and your eyes, too.
And, now though it does not matter,
He knows that he is indeed your father.

Your hope is there lying in blood red,
It is there with your body dead.
Yet, there is not a tear in your eye,
It’s all right. It will be fine.

Your body is lying there in the coffin,
And, people around it are there, standing,
Your friends, your father, the love of your life,
And other men with their children and wife.
Narrating a story of a great man,
He never cried, he never ran,
Three of them with tears in their eyes,
Come one by one to utter truth, no lies.
Your aunt, she says you would be missed,
Your mother used to give your picture a kiss,
Everyday, till she died in the end,
Says your aunt in a nervous blend.
Your love, she says she loved you so much,
She could not say it before as such,
And, she regrets it more than ever,
She regrets to have left you forever.
Your father, he says he loved you too,
And, calls himself an eager fool,
For having left you some years back,
For being such a potato sack.

And, now, for first time in years 39,
Things were right and things were fine.
Not there, if anyone, was that poor fellow,
Who had hoped for this day, since days of yellow.

Now, stand up and do not make him wait,
Find that fellow, don’t be late.
Tell him the truth, don’t hold back your words,
Don’t wait to regret, don’t wait to rehearse.
So, stop reading this poem and go there fast,
Tell him what you mean, and make it last.
Let it not just pass into another day,
Let it not pass into the sun’s ray.
Don’t let him say that dreaded line,
It’s all right. It will be fine.

Meeting Place

Wait on, she said. Just wait.
It is not how it looks and you should know.
It is not what I meant.
I ask you again, my love, do not go.

I have to. He said. I just do.
I am happy to have just stopped the rain.
I am but a collateral damage.
Another life, we will meet again.