Not one there is for you, they are for all

Not one there is for you, they are for all

Your memories don’t belong to you, they are for all

Shared possessions, public and changing, not still

Evolving with age as the memory fades and reaches a stasis

Don’t you dare be selfish and make them yours at all

Especially those which have me in them

These are not just for you, they are mine too

I will tell you where I was that morning

I will tell you, how I felt

Don’t forget that these memories are not just yours they are mine too.

Don’t forget the sunset we both caught

Before parted and ended it all

Will stay here, forever

It doesn’t have to be today, or tomorrow

It doesn’t have to be dusk or dawn

I have you ingrained in my mind, my body and soul

A glimpse of you, is part of me yesterday, today and tomorrow

There are no good byes to be said as this is eternal

With you or in your absence, there is always one certainty

One truth which is you

You and me

You and our world

How does one know ?

Was there such an emotion here?

Hidden underneath all these feelings

Those layers of time and memories, shared feelings and pain

Was there such a load?

Will this be a moment where I feel light again?

or is this just a change that I don’t want to face?

why is it such a challenge to give up?

Have I given it my everything yet?

Do I need to still fight?

or call it quits?

When is it okay to end a fight? and accept reality?

When is it the truth that needs to be accepted?

How does one know ?

Hello world

Hello World

The Big World

The brave world

A new world

Are you sure, you are not stale, world ?

Ah! You claim to be intriguing, world

Aren’t you filled with crime, world ?

Are you hearing me, world ?

Oh no! You are not brave world

You like to hide world

A slithering world

You cry world

Stop complaining world

You heal, world

You go sleep, world

It’s the end, world!!

My love is very whimsical

My love is very whimsical
For you it may seem, farcical
Hey hey trickle trickle
No. It won’t flow.
It’s just a lie and a miracle .
Fickle, fickle

trickle, trickle,

My love is very whimsical

Grandfather of the ocean

Long time ago there was a blue expanse

Everywhere you go.

Every direction you look

As you look into the distance it was all blue, and only blue

As you looked below, and inward, there lay an incredible depth

Where the blue slowly changed and became shades darker

And darker

And darker,

Disappearing into a dark blackish nothingness

Where stirred life, of many forms,

Small and round,

Colourful and camouflouged

Deadly, with poisons unknown

Unworldly in shapes, colours and sizes

Never did one expect this large solitary creature

A grandfather of the ocean

A solitary traveller

Who lost his love at the turn of the last century,

Another traveller, a companion that loved him,

Bore his children who roamed the free world,

In groups near the frigid icy peaks of yonder,

Today there are very few of his kin left,

Who sing to his memory

And cherish his life,

A life that changed the course of history

A life that brought incredible prosperity and the downfall

as the darkness envelops you into itself, there are stories to be told

About this grandfather of the ocean

From long time ago when there was a blue expanse

Life happens in moments

The moment between when a diver leaps off a diving board and enters the pool,

The moment between when you said those words “I love you” and when your lover responds

The moment when a loving son, holds his father’s hands as he is takes his last breath before fading away into the beyond

The moment you climb up your first peak, and gaze on into the horizon

The moment you have your first bite after a long day of fasting

The moment between a good deed and the gratitude for your action

The moment you realize your mistakes, and start figuring out a solution

The moment you accept your insignificance on this planet and start a new revolution

The moment you decide to stop planning and start living..

Chronicles of a Steppenwolf in love

Mired in mystique was the lone wolf of the steppes, 

A friendly beast that craved attention, 

A rustle in the bushes and any signs of company stirred the beast into restlessness,

His craving for company did not cure him of the fear of being with another being, 

for he saw nothing could come from this engagement of senses, 

a sane moment was absent often in this insane self 

as he craved a bond , a connection and love

but engaging with another being in closed quarters drove him away, into the deep

maddening wild. 

As he ran himself tired, and exhausted all the life giving air in his being, 

he wondered about this duality of his vitality, 

an insanity lacking gravity in his reality and in totality

 

 

When you are on a journey

When you are on a journey, there is a lot to see

When you are on a journey, there is a lot new to feel

When you are on a journey, you believe there is always an end, middle and beginning

When you are on a journey, there is excitement

What happens, when it is a journey of self discovery ?

What happens, when you are going nowhere new, but into the depths of your own self ?

What happens when the frustrations, the excitement and the worry you feel, is all within ?

In a tumultuous concoction of you

In a tumultuous concoction of your being

Where is the beginning, is it your birth or your dawn of consciousness ?

Or is it when you start trying to explain yourself to you?

What about the middle ?

Is it just that long period of time where you are frustrated that you cannot get your head around  you ?

Or is it in the shadow,  the intermittent zone between dark and light ?

What about the end ?

Do you ever know yourself inside out ?

Is it when you no longer see yourself in  the third person ?

 

Finding a new voice

A new home

A new life

A new sun

A new task

Icy roads shimmering in this new life

Cold winds carrying my thoughts

The sun is bright but the air is cold

New faces in a new found place

New rhymes for a newly bought notebook

Feels like a chance to reinvent oneself

Wear new clothes

Bring new thoughts

Reimagine the world I want

For all this I believe a new voice is needed

Trying to find it and shape it as it grows from the old

As a new leaf growing from an old branch

A branch of memories

A branch of joy

A branch that holds my self in place

As it has done for many years

As it will do for many more to come

Oh new voice,

Where art thou..