todays bird
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@mytunafish
A little red bird
I am soaked in memories of the distant past remembering to remember They think everything is fine. They think everything is forever. Home will take me home and I will be home And I am home As the little red bird sits on a branch of the little mango tree across my window No one can see the tree because I planted it in my childhood's dream The clock ticks away on the wall As I keep falling into my head clambering to the shore, every once in a while.
6.jun.2013
A little red bird No, I don't know Receding twilight When the moon was green Blind me Falling Terrible anxiety
6.jun.2013
It seems to be getting dark. Perhaps I will never be able to see or feel life slipping away into the sky. I keep my thoughts neatly arranged in the corner, just in case I need any particular one, I don't have to search for it.
Then I venture out into the streets the sad smiles stuck out on every face. Kids holding balloons that scream at the sky. If they let go they will float away.
Such is life you can find metaphors out of things that need not signify anything. Very plain and banal things and gestures open up passages into a new world that is relatively nearer than you think.
Then the sparrows returned home and the sun rays turned pale crimson and the clouds stood fixed in the sky reflecting far away light. And my thoughts drifted back into the night.
3.jun.2013
One very important reminder is to never regret anything 'everything that has happened is good and there is no need to feel sad or inadequate about it' that's my idea of making peace with this world. Otherwise I will become insane.
2.jun.2013
Beyond Going
A few steps away I see the window through which I had watched the world move It was a sunday I suppose but you never know. Times like these, your memory usually plays a cruel game. I stood, my head mixed up, with a strange mix of longing and relief The wind blew from across the sea, miles and miles away. And the doors creaked here
1.jun.2013
In the palm of your hand
One day the wind will blow away
Until then hold on to your sky.
171112
Someone said its going to take a long time and I stood on the hill waiting for the sky to clear away they ran all around the beach wading through drifting winds. Once upon a time life was pretty easy never out of reach beyond one's reach. someone said its going to take a long time and I stood on the hill waiting for the sky to clear away I try not to see beyond the flowing river of time. Some one said its going to take a long time and I stood on the hill waiting for the sky to clear away Nov, 2012
This doesn't sound good, but I am trying to get back to writing something..
In an empty room filled with void i murmur into the corner Traces of the sea lining my blood vessels A dark staircase of light stuck on the wall dangles with passing time Closing eyes spilling moments from behind pillars of silence
Pertinence
Blue green and white they fill the place sands flowing into deep trenches, sound bargain. Going round in circles is nothing new silence paves the way to something that can never be explained.
Water colour
Papers floating to drown into my head I paint with cakes of soluble colours that soaked your thoughts into mine A pallete of emotions that mix into the sky only to remind me That you are buried under the earth picking seeds of the past waiting to bloom into a tree. I trudge with memories that entwine me, and trap me in a perfect longing that deprives me as it fills me. Copyright, 2011, October
Abandoned Lawn
Body covered with light with moving spasms of blindness. People keep counting days ebbed with dwindling hours. The clothes of sunlight will mend itself, catching pinnacles. I lay in between the sheets of morning grass. Holding the flames painting the sky. The clouds gather in unison to sprinkle sprays of water soaking the mud, filling the floor with rustling leaves. Oct, 2011
Bring me hope
Flipping napkins inside the ice box carrying ink stains to sleep. Pretending noises are silence. The flowing city, a fatigue. I hear heartbeats on walls, the moon buried under my hair follicles. This existence is an illusion, pampering my mind, into a dead oblivion. Your footprints are the only hope in an ever swirling blindness.
Oct, 2011
Growing up
Virtues ride the wind on lopped trees. The windows laid bare with curtains swimming through the grill. I gather my doll and lay by the pool waiting for the bubble. Lanterns come floating carrying warm flames. The tall buildings far away dwindle and fade with its flashy lights. I await for the doorway through the gloomy water, as the moon emerges to swallow the place.
Oct, 2011
Residue
Running through the grass clutching the cloth that weaves itself to the sky. Her hair is neatly braided with a pair of smoky eyes. A senile being I am in comparison but I will never stand in between. Time is a dark shadow that smells light far away. But I will not complain. For amongst the ruins magic leaps into life and I am filled to the brim.
Oct, 2011
Kindness
Pleading eyes swimming in blue ocean. Brown trees stood tall waiting for the oar, to fall behind the long path. Little flowers gaze unto the sky through the tallest shrubs. The children sleep in bliss under the shining stars lying down on floating beds.
Memories
Some drift between the memory and the present pinning their hopes from their past Love begins in spring when the eyes flutter to gaze. The falling leaves, will hold the trudging memories Memories are a gift unwrapped to be wrapped again. Memories makes one as much as it breaks. The forlorn walls in my home has seen much than you can imagine.
Oct, 2011
Life
Foot prints to collect roses to pick. Following the wings of the unfortunate souls. I leave the ways behind me, hoping somewhere the ice cubes splatter in front of me. Existence, survives the journey, making way to subtle poignancy under the breathing sky.
Oct, 2011