Tag Archives: Thoughts

beauty, creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

Unforgetting

I swallow a room in my mind,
to digest its origins.
Its woodwork churns and mollifies,
I could feel my fingers full of sawdust and laughter,
lost handprints(possible mine), from the dying
furniture and the floor caress my head.

You will always find a way to meet yourself,
once you are forgotten by everyone.

The lights are turning dim,
I do not know, how to serve light in a tall glass for myself?
Can you teach my fist to hold sands of darkness?
I shall learn somehow, to sprinkle when necessary.

You can learn anything, you want.
But remember to put off the light in the end.

The garden screams with its emptiness,
and my eyes could bear the shrieks.
Is this is how I forget your touch?
Without music? Without sleep?

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childhood, fiction and poetry, Life, Poems, Poetry, Uncategorized

Answer

ego-outside-child-inside1

When the kid inside you
asks how it’s like to be an adult?
how does it feel to be organised
when your inside is full of chaos
to work and not feel overjoyed
but still being hammered to do it
how does it feel to ignore the colors
when you want to drown in them
to see someone dance like no one is watching
and you are afraid to join because of shame
how does it feel to be keep me caged
when you heart is same like me
but the head tells you to ignore.

 

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Death, fiction and poetry, fiction&writing, Freehand Writing, Heart, Help, Life, Love, Poetry, Stories

Unheard.

Enclosed in a room,
not too large,
with just candles,
to light the night,
he lays down all day,
looking at the roof,
and outside through,
a small window,
to the blue sea,
the sunburnt boats,
fishermen with children
and sometimes the dolphins,
as the night draws near,
winds grow cold,
the moon shines bright,
and then he like us,
starts to write,
In candlelight,
about the life he never had,
of places he never saw,
Children he never had,
he then tears the paper,
rolls it and throws it out,
in hope of being read,
by someone,
like us.

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Death, Help, Imagine, Prose, Random thoughts, Writings

Within

7_dark-room

Within me,
lies an irresistible urge,
a dark one indeed,
that would not fathom beauty,
nor the brave,
that consumes darkness,
that needs slaves,
that is biased,
that is superstitious,
that tells me things,
that makes me see void taking shapes,
it isn’t scary,
no it isn’t indeed,
when I showed,
the world where I lived,
it has been down there since,
cornered in the heart,
it refuses to come, even after it’s dark.

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