Tag Archives: Poems

When life takes a turn

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There are many paths in life a man could take
One of them is temptation
The other is resistance

Temptation is sensual; it dresses in red
She holds a cigarette in her right hand and waits for you
Promising to sway you away from the worries of life
Ignore the world that has formed concrete pavements on your chest
Temptation doesn’t promise you life but it promises you temporary relief

Resistance is fierce; it has a silver armor on
He doesn’t have anything but a will to fight
Promising that if you don’t give in then the future might be bright
The concrete world will get knocked down but with time
Resistance doesn’t promise relief but it promises you a good fight
It tells you that there are many things in this world
That would kill you in far worse ways than you can imagine
But you don’t have to be one of them

Temptation makes you a loaded gun
Resistance makes you not shoot yourself
It takes courage to be loaded six rounds straight
And not pull the trigger

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The traffic on the highway

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The construction on the highway
Has the traffic crawling
So I cannot normally cruise
But rather spend long hours in line
Stuck
Looking at blank faces
Men and women
Some have children in the backseats
Looking ahead
To nowhere

The rush hour has everyone
Running back to their homes
To their bored lives
Running to watch soap operas
Which shows a life of romantic grandiose
The likes they will never live but only see on the telly
Running to watch the news
Cursing the government but unable to start a revolution
Running to the end of the day
Only to start again

What we need is a revolt
Against our old systems
Rip it out from the root and burn it
Throw it in the air

But we don’t
Because, a revolt against the system would mean
A revolt against self
We’re quick to take action against others
Not ourselves

I pick a bottle of whiskey on my way
Running to no way particularly
Cheers to my own revolution
I smirk
Maybe, I’ll be a changed man
Or so I would like to think

Love in the 90’s

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When I was 8
A boy in my class gave me a book
Of rhymes
He said he loved me
And decided to give me something
That I liked
Poetry
Back then
I didn’t know much about love
Except for a word tossed around
To make people happy
So I told him to rhyme something with it
He didn’t
I said
I love you too
And it rhymed
You see I liked the way two words
Came
Together
Different but with the same sound
At the end
Sort of like this
I love you
I love you too
And it makes all the difference

A poem for your manipulator

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I’ve been too afraid to lose people. So much so that in order to make room for their personality, I diminish mine. I learnt it from my parents. My mother turned from monsoon rain to a chaotic thunderstorm. My father became the ruins rather than the fire.

I make room for his,
dreams
aspirations
hopes
love
goals
in this process of providing space. The little of myself I was left with is crumpled in the corner. To keep a love one has to bend.
One has to change.
One has to make room.
One has to apologize.
One has to let go because love,
Love is worth keeping
Love is worth fighting for
But love is toxic
When he tells you that you should be sorry for your choices. When he makes you feel like you do not exist except for his shadow. When he makes sure you know that he has the string and you’re just a puppet. When his silence screams at your face more than his words. When he tells you that he will leave. When he emotionally manipulates you with your answers and you can’t do anything about it. When he takes the little space that you had.

I’ve been too afraid to lose people. But, I’ve realized I’m more afraid to lose myself.

14 days of mania

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“What the fuck”
The voice screams
From the back of my mind
This other half talks sense
As I continue to
Drink and ridicule
A friend sitting in front of me
I feel it
The manic me, you see?
The charmer
Witty woman
Intellectual
Who throws metaphors like ropes
Reeling people in to her trap

This person who screams sanity
Outside the wall of my cerebrum

I ignore

 

Dear, you
Shut the fuck up
You’re not being funny
You’re being cruel

Episodic
I know that this is wrong but I continue
I continue to indulge in wordplay
In luring the other person
Like
A spider dragging in its prey
Being a charmer
Before
I dissect their entity
Raw open
Exploit it
For the inner sinner

Frankly, I enjoy it
As sanity screams to be let in
Inside the house
Where
Manic me, resides
Until next time
The insane one says
As I creep under the sheets
From a night out
Haven’t slept for more than four hours
For the past 14 days
Deeply saddened on what I did
But heck, I was the life of the party
“You’re happy” they said
“I’m always happy”, I lie through my smile
Because I am not
But you see
How do I tell you that I love this
I love the manic me
The conqueror
The winner
The one who emerges victorious

Euphoria doesn’t last
Sadness settles in
“Like always” I mutter to the other self
As I wave to the manic
The hypomania is over
My mind welcomes
Depressive mania
With open arms
As sanity screams
Oh fuck! Here goes another 14 days

My body is no temple

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I have read a lot of books
That tell me
How my body is a temple
I should consider it sacred
Worship and respect it
Because, if not me
Then who?
I’ve read a lot of poetry
On intentions and aspirations
How positive energy heals my temple in rubble
I wish that I could tell them
I do not consider
This body of mine
A temple
My body is no shrine
No place for the holy
It is a forest
In between is a swamp
You will find only twisted pathways
Wetlands that will drown you
A bottomless pit
For an excuse of a heart
A shallow hole that only wants
It functions on parasitic needs
The canopies have poisonous snakes
Spiders hide in the ground
If you think this is
Young, wild and free
I am sorry
To deceive you with my words
It is a forest
That does not give birth to life
It is overshadowed by rage and cruelty
Left by inhabitants that once tried
To make a home of it
It is not free
The vines will trap you
Hang you in mid-air by your throat
If you dare venture in too deep
There is nothing saintly cherished in the atmosphere
So, if you think that this body is a temple
Go look somewhere else
Because, this is a forest
Thick and Cruel
It will devour your heart
Make you a fool

I read your horoscope

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I’ve never believed in horoscopes
The constellations alignment
Doesn’t dictate a thing
Infinity and stars
Are just knots of hope

Like what mother said
That the twins don’t represent
Anything in my life
But the centaur
I always read

Maybe, I want them to proclaim
A love that was suppose to be endless
Because a glimmer of hope is nice
Even for a moment
Betrayal from reality
Never felt so good

Words

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What the world doesn’t know is that words are never enough

Words that we speak everyday

Have a universe of reason behind them

On the contrary, some are just as empty

But none that we use are ever enough

Whether to fuel our reasons

Or fill the silence with empty words

You can make a home out of words

And I’ve found comfort in them

You can burn in words

And I’ve cried when they were cruel

Words are magic, if you ask me

In them lies the power that I never could understand

So, I wrote myself 21 letters full of love and hate

Because to me they make sense

When nothing else makes sense

Hey, awake?

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Your favorite quotes can tell a lot about you

When you put it up as your status

Or your favorite song

Why do you switch it on when you’re both driving around?

I heard you like to read that book, again and again

When the world has you down, it is all there is

Your favorite person can tell wonders about your soul

Even when you haven’t talked to them in ages

And so when you’re tucked in bed

Trying not to think about the world

You read Bukowski

Wonderwall starts playing in the background

And all you could do is reach out

With a

“Hey, awake?”