The last voice
was a silent pledge
between her God
and the one kneeling.
To stop asking for love
and be open to it.
Hush
‘You whipped my heart with your loving words,
So the only balm was to silence you.’
I wrote this little piece for all the people who literally knock us down with kindness. Sometimes, a wound just needs time to heal, and if people let us be, and give us time to be by ourselves, maybe we would resurface surer and better!
The Luxury of Schedules
The luxury of schedules.
10-7s, planned weekend trysts.
Calendars booked chock-a-block.
Networks, events, and yes,
friends who always visit announced.
You have arrived.
Rightly so,
Visible, and the world loves you.
Bit by bit,
medal by medal,
you strip it all.
Were you not trained
to lock that silent space?
A collective voice cautions you.
As you gun for the point
where diagonals meet.
Visions are good for dreamers
Not leaders.
Without safety, mates, privileges.
Though caffeine soaked goals
and your voice for company.
How is it that you feel so good?
As you rewrite your story,
Insane perhaps,
you might just be part of history.
Virtually Hidden
I sit behind that old painting
made by a forgotten artist.
I blanket myself
in the warmth of an ice cube.
I am a shadow that hides
in the rays of eclipsed moons.
The virtual world is my soul mate,
and I,
just another piece of random words.
Lying within that one teardrop
of an abandoned lover.
Time displaced, emotions replaced,
I wonder,
‘Do you covet me still?’
“Emptiness surfaced
when I scratched the surface.”
Written for all the well-packaged players who lack depth one encounters in every day life.
Imagine
I see desires in your vacant eyes,
moonlight in your pallor,
wisdom in your inanities,
madness in your routines.
You are the statue I created
and lost myself in.
