Today is a wonderful day. It’s one of those days where you look back and realise serendipity is an awfully great phenomenon.
Who would’ve guessed two extremely opposite friends would bring me down to the same place at the same time. For different reasons. One to keep his friendship and the other to remind me to keep mine.
This trip has been eventful for a denier like me. Celebrating a Budd who’s settling in life and celebrating another who’s liberating his life.
And in between lies me, sandwiched perfectly. Giving out my wise cracks and smart-aleck advice to the world.
We all seek something. And I guess I’m coming to terms with what I seek. Well getting closer to it is more like it.
I commit suicide in different ways. So much so that I’m enamoured by what enigma I’m portrayed as to the world outside.
Welcome to my mind, once again.
It’s a kaleidoscope of horrors. A rollercoaster of emotions. A deep dark well kept secret. A well of chaos in chains. A raging bull racing on a nitro boost of charged sentiments.
As I sip on a cappuccino to slow down and not tempt the beast within. It roars and rumbles even so.
Letting it erupt is not an option.
Can I just not worry, like the golden years
in the past. Before engines roared,
and steel birds soared.
When the biggest concern was the gathering
around a dinner table. With the right style
of tea and company.
Where the future seemed elusive and promising
and not full of disdain. A time when we knew
how to be grounded, right beside the soil
that fed us.
When music was soothing, impressive
and rewarding to the listener and player alike.
What is vintage today, has been great
across a hundred or more years.
The harmonious jazz trio. The singing
belles with their acapella. Peace
To a time when celebrations came from the heart.
When social media was actually a face-to-face conversation.
Over tea. Over dinner. Over a visit to the park.
It feels like in this age of speed and neeed,
something has been lost. Something significant.
Everything is virutally there. And I’m not
glad, not one bit.
Reckless. Restless. Sleepless. Driven.
Take that smile, crumble it.
Try again, not good enough.
Crumple it. Throw it out the window
There’s no room for it here
Now think loudly
Focus sincerity honesty dedication
Ingrain it. Swear by it.
Swear at it, under your rotten breath.
But never to the face.
Go to bed uneasy
And tomorrow morning
Wash your face.
Brush your teeth.
Take it from the top, Mac!
And the one day,
He let go.
Quit on those lofty dreams
Which once meant his life’s blood.
Let the ship sail,
Into the night.
For it is not ours
To sail anymore.
Many come and yet many go,
Like the wheels of time,
All of life’s a give and take
Few etch memories
But if there’s one,
Just one tiny little soul
That can move even
The mightiest stone
It would be you
Harbinger of joy
Witness to life itself
And today if you
lay here buried.
I want all my remorse
to be away from the
land that holds what’s dearest to me
With you buried here
I will make room for no sadness
No pain and no misery.
For this sacred spot is where
I lay my soul to rest.
Weep I must or
But you stay with me
From now until forever.
Until we meet in another life
Not so far from now.
I’ll let this pass too like all else. Taking it as no loss, but the liberation of my very own soul.
Because that is what you were and always will be.
Rest in peace, Pal.
I need to soul search once again.
Days like these, I keep at bay.
Days like these, make my day.
Times like these, runs shivers down my spine.
Times like these, I fall in love with time.
Rides and roads, rails and routes leads me back. Back to you. In brief instances, it feels intoxicating – that we are worlds apart and still lead the same lives.
As if nothing changed, time didn’t move, everything… unflinchingly still.
It seems comforting. That we are moved yet again by each other, but now we don’t shatter like glass, like then, like seasons ago, like another life that we lived.
Guess I genuinely have something to be proud of now. We are together in everything, because it feels like this tryst will stay with me until the eventual Grand Arcanum that waits for us at the end of this never ending tunnel.
I tried writing a poem. Whatever this is, guess I still bleed invisible liquids.
Leaving the old
New friends replace the old
New things against the old
Why keep the ruins, ancient
Let them go
In the dead of the night
Where monsters and demons sleep
Where souls so pure weep
And the chasm of death