Friday, November 23, 2012

a Looking For Alaska based poem

I walk down a narrow path
hints that it has been used before
a broken branch, a footprint here
to the most secret of all places
the smoking hole now abandoned
the school barn haunted with our memories
the bottles of wine still stay buried
the dorm room you used now shut and empty
all the books that you collected
what you called your life’s library
now cleared out, stacked no more
yard sale to yard sale, they will go
the stale smell of cigarettes lingers
the wax mountain peaks from under
the vanilla lotion and the smell of fresh grass
all the four leafed clovers are dead now
the late nights spent drinking and talking
also playing best day/worst day
the day of the zoo, bears and monkeys
the day your mother died right beside you
we let you slip right through our fingers
one was drunk, the other just let go
the night of the first kiss
and your last words, we will never know

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

the rain, the fall, the words


the rain drops fall
as if to wash away her tears
instead, they make her pain worse.
the fierce drops cutting her skin
so hard, you’d expect blood drops too.
not from her eyes, but her heart,
there’s no more bright red blood
like her soul, her mind, her life
her once strong heart has darkened.
no more love to keep her alive,
no more love to keep her strong.
feeling like the rain, falling from the sky
she jumped and then she fell
all the while she looked at life
through those closed eyes of hers
before the splash, she was asleep
a calm undisturbed sleep
her still face and slight smile,
the body was soon found.
no one knew what made her do it,
they didn’t know how unkind the world was,
to her, it seemed an end at last
no more the need to suffer.
if anyone had heard her final words,
they would have been left to wonder,
for before she jumped all she said was,
“i tried, i tried, but i failed”

the convict

the doors close behind him
not mere doors but gates of steel
not a smile on a face
the guards standing in the sun
no one shows concern
no one remembers him
leaving his home of many years
the enemies he had begun to love
a small bag with his belongings
all he owned, all that was his
not a family to go to
or a friend to be with
the release of the prisoner
brings no joy to him
what could possibly be the good of
this new beginning
away from jail
in an alien world
left to die alone...

its not fair, but who cares?

if you think our love deserves to live
just one more day, another second
then come back to me, say you’ll stay
don’t leave or stray far away.
don’t you think i deserve another chance
afterall, we are all humans,
we make mistakes,
when you did wrong, i didn’t leave
sure, the tears did fall,
but what we had didn’t end.
now when i make a silly mistake
you are unwilling to forget it all
never again, i promise you
but i guess you are deaf
to my apologies.
its okay, you can leave
maybe its not worth it at all.
i’ll make up my mind, you don’t deserve me,
what we had was too good, it had to end.
this is life, so unfair
what ever you do, small or big
people rarely remember the good you do
for years they punish you for your bad,
never will one easily forget.
its not fair, but who cares?
you cant challenge life, it will always win.
stop complaining, go ahead and live
the few years you get, make the most of it.
don’t live a life when someday,
you will regret not fighting for the things you love


another bell rings,

another day ends,

she's sent to school,

against her will,

the sun may shine,

the flowers abloom,

but there are tear drops,

falling from her eyes.

another tear drop falls,

another smile is lost,

why does she have to live

against her will?

the trees will grow,

the wind will blow,

she takes a breath,

wishing it'll be her last

fear and anger

She hears the creak of the door,

he was back home.

She was ready today,

and he was not.

She has a knife with her,

the type they use to cut fish,

he had nothing,

but a bag with a few bananas.

She comes before him,

fear creeping in.

he smiles at her

and says he's sorry.

She looks at him in wonder,

she didn't smell arrack.

He hadn't drunk today,

he was clean.

She held on to the knife anyway,

and told him dinner was ready.

He, with tears in his eyes,

gives her the parcel.

She looks in and smiles,

“whats this for?”

he apologizes over and over again,

he really is sorry.

She drops the knife and looks at him,

astonished, hopeful.

The day he turned around was the day

she also turned around.

He stopped drinking, stopped beating her

and she stopped being patient, a victim no more.

When love touched his heart,

hate touched hers.

From somewhere, a dog barked,

just then a sudden breeze cooled them.

Was this their new life?

Her fear no more,

his anger no more.

But her thirst for vengeance

taking over his hunger for love.

Things turned around,

and now he lives in fear and

she in deep hate.

one of those topsy turvy poems

making the sky go black and white,
the bright hating lightening strikes,
a little girl, so scared, cries,
afraid of the eerie mice,
you have to play the game nice,
no cheating with the dice,
no matter what the disguise,
to make you cry, life always tries,
so sweet like bee hives,
but sharp like cutting knives,
killing love, evil thrives,
the world is full of cunning lies,
the sun so bright that it fries,
insects, so small in size,
as we sit, living life,
to take over, others try


She couldn’t understand why this year,

Santa Claus didn’t visit her

She hadn’t been naughty, but very good

How can her forget her house

Her grandmother tried to explain

But she didn’t understand why

Santa’s reindeer couldn’t find

The small house on the river bank

She knew her parents were in heaven

With her little baby brother

Was heaven close to santa’s home?

She didn’t know where the North Pole was

Year after year, she kept on waiting

Her hope never died

Year after year, the Christmas tree

Had no gifts under it

Her list to Santa kept getting shorter

Until one day she lost all faith

Why be good for a man who,

Had forgotten her so easily

So she hoped for a different man

Who gives naughty girls good gifts

She prayed and hoped

And left her good life in the past

She was gifted a million things

Too happy she was to understand

These were the gifts that took her to hell

Before she was even fully grown

a story of a he and a she

his lips parted and yet he made no sound
she waited, knwoing what he was so nervous about
he couldn't believe it would be like this
she wondered why he chose the school cafeteria
he found this easier, more people, less emotion
she wished he would be quick with his words
he moved his hand on to hers and squeezed
she felt the nervous sweat on her hand
he finally closed his eyes and took a deep breath
she smiled slightly, he was ready to talk
he felt so confused about what was happening
she never thought it could be this hard
he finally said those three words,
she finally heard those three words
he took his hand away from hers
she stared at his from tearless eyes
he wondered if he hadn't been clear
she was too shocked to even cry
he had not said 'i love you'
she had heard 'we are done'
he got up and left, to live his life
she simply died with their love

Monday, November 5, 2012

ink art

The waiting is the worst
second thoughts and fear
trying to silence the voices
in your head
and then the machine
whirs into life
ready to carve those words
onto your skin
the first touch
a shudder as the pains shoots through
and then slowly
you get used to the sound
the ain, the feeling
and finally, ink on your skin
a piece of art, until death

Friday, November 2, 2012

a small wish

we survived colonization
we survived a civil war
and yet, caste, race, religion
even now, deciding factors
it starts wars, it stops love
if I could I would change it all
this hate, these divisions
then our never can be a maybe
our never, a someday