Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

The Fool

He woke up with a smile on his face,
Brushed his teeth, combed his hair,
With his fingers like he usually did.
And he was still smiling.

A fun tone filled the auditorium,
In his head.
A light peppy romantic number.
And he swirled around in his room,
Imagining a giant park,
With no one in it except for
A few benches and some rain,
And a fellow- dancer.

He was wearing his favorite half- sweater
And looked like a school teacher.
She looked like an angel,
In a salwar.

He stepped on a bench,
And she looked up at him,
He stood on the edge and spread his arms apart,
He lost balance,
But it looked beautiful,
Because she put out her hands,
As he came down.

They were born to dance this way,
In this rain,
And together.
The sharp adjustments,
The fine movements,
The chemistry- ah it was sizzling.

Their faces wet,
The smiles and the nervous tension.
She spun away from him,
And he went chasing after her
She’d suddenly stop,
And spin back,
To meet him half way.


His heart knew no joy like this,
Each step brought out another bout,
Of insane happiness,
Happiness that was too real.

He looked in to her eyes,
To see the devil,
Of malice and broken dreams,
But his body took over,
And he went on dancing,
Happy to sink in to those doe eyes,
Happy to just be.


The bloody fool was falling in love.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

I think too much- Mea Culpa!

I think too much,
Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa!
For that is where I find most joy,
That is what strings my soul and is my light.
Forgive me for trying to fathom,
For trying to uncover life’s meaning- ‘Myself’!
Yes- I’m guilty, but I don’t feel guilt.
I say it aloud here only to share my motivations and my failures.
In this random world- how is one to make sense?
If I focus on others I’m being ‘controlled’,
If I focus on myself- I’m ‘selfish’!
Right or wrong is a matter of perception- but whose?
Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa!
I have questions- mea culpa,
I always have questions!
I’d like to imagine it like I’m peeling away at an onion,
But in reality I’m removing a drop from the ocean.
What is all this for? (Or should I cover my mouth for uttering the unutterable?)
I laugh at your naiveté,
But secretly- I long for your certainty.
I long for your simplicity- I long for…
But, alas! I have not only tasted the forbidden fruit (we all have),
I have also applied it!
Mea maxima culpa!

I think too much!

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Doubt


Dedicated to Mr. AK and Mr. BT


Can I?
Yes you can.
Should I?
That depends entirely on you.
How do I decide?
Look at the pros and cons.
I’m still not able to figure!
(*Laughs) Think! Think! Think!
Should I be rational about it?
Not about what you want. But, you need to be logical on going about it.
What if I make a mistake?
You will learn from it.
It’s tough!
That’s great!
Will I really be able to do this?
I’ve already answered that.
Is it worth it?
I don’t doubt it!

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Regression


Regression

I bought a bottle of rum and coke,
And regretted it
Never liked the shit, bought it for nostalgia,
Smoked up a few with fuckers I don’t like,
Because I wanted communion
There’s no joy in that shit anymore, it’s silly
Its insanity
Felt silly, felt odd, was putrid.
All the fucked up things, come flooding back in to my head,
I loved a girl,
She knows now I’m a loser. I’m happy
For her
But not for myself
That sonovabitch was rude to me on the phone,
I tried to give it back to him but failed miserably.
The conductor didn't have change and so I was the most
 Useless piece of shit
That he ever came across.
My boss wonders where my fire died,
It’s still there- I lied.
I talked to an old teacher about on old lesson,
She thinks I’m cuckoo.
Miss…would you like a kiss?
It’s not bulls & bears
Its bull shit and bearly understandable
My phone beeps, and there
Never is a fucking message for me.
Solved a problem,
That was easy… here’s another bigger one you moron!
The waiter scratched his balls,
And dipped his finger in my glass,
And at that fucking moment I felt thirsty.
Bought new shoes,
Rest of the wardrobe is 2 years old with slight malfunctions.
Sex is always on my mind,
It gets hard inside my pants
When I think of that actress with fake lips
And a beautiful bosom
Listen to sad songs
And it pulls strings in my heart
Like that girl I wrote poetry for,
Though I never loved her
My writing sucks,
This is supposed to be a poem
Where’s the rhyme you ask?
Do you even understand?
Why do I fucking bother?
My back hurts
Means I have the license to be lazy
It’ll never get better,
Nothing ever does.
The regret. The end. Period.

Author's note: Writing style inspired by Don DeLillo's Americana. Narrative is in first person and random sentences are brought together without any cohesion. Use of strong words to create powerful imagery. Designed to provoke dark humor.