Monday, January 31, 2011

tick tick tick


Our minds are fickle. Our dreams, fickler.
We let them grow from a pocket of fire, that we carry around in our hearts.
Do I dream when I'm awake, that we'll be together, with the dresses we wear, knit by our fate?
When I'm asleep, I can only hope, that the bar around the corner, is as warm as we want it to be.
I take comfort in your mind, as you do in mine.
And entwined, we'll wait for the clock to strike eleven,
and for the chords to turn into heartbeats.
Because we wait, with the patience of a timer, that's unwilling to go off.


tick tick tick


But if not wait, what are we to do?
Our lives are those little timers, waiting to go off, so we can burst forth in colour, like they do in the movies.
When it does, I'll hold your hand, and we'll dance in the City lights, till our feet are bare and souls alight.
Because with you, there is mirth,
in your words, there is joy,
and in our dreams, there is eternity.


Till then we'll wait, wont we,
on this kitchen floor,
and stare at this timer together,
waiting, willing for it to go off?


Because we are together,
what we apart,
aspire to be.


tick tick tick

Monday, January 17, 2011

Blackbird




Blackbird, you come to my window every evening,
To listen to the sound that is my heavy breathing.
You put a wing up to the sun,
And said the world is sleeping.

But Blackbird what of the Sun & the Moon,
What of this morning that has come too soon?
Do not tell me of white trees in September,
Do not tell me of fast cars in June.

Do not fix my head, or begin to mend my errors,
And do not teach my tongue in forgetful forevers,
That when my lover left, he left hope behind,
And the heart endures what the heart endeavors.

And if you must sing to me, sing me the blues,
Sing me the sadder of the golden tunes,
And if you are to fix me, Blackbird,
Make me the object of another man's muse.

So leave me your feathers,
Blackbird, on my window sill,
And I'll write that epic letter,
the one to my lover,
And have it laden with goodwill.

But promise me this, with my letter when you roam,
You'll leave me behind a heart-shaped stone,
One I can cradle and caress,
Till you somehow bring me, my lover home.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Lazy Wednesday

Sometimes,
My hands cannot keep up,
With the things,
My mind wants to complete.

Thoughts move,
Too fast for my heart to grasp,
To measure,
If the passion meted out is enough.

So I,
Stop mid-way, and stare at my hands,
Willing them,
To get more done, without moving at all.

And technically,
Shouldn't I be accomplishing more,
If I do,
Absolutely nothing at all?

Because,
In my mind, I have done them,
And the world,
Is but a reflection of my mind.

So I will be happy,
By achieving with my thoughts,
Because delight,
Is that purple Sunbird, on my morning walk home.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

You Only Keep Me Here, So I May Not Keep Myself.

As the evening grows louder,
I cannot take any more of you,
As the city grows cloudier,
I doubt I'll see this through.

Because my heart,
It belongs outside the window,
It follows the breeze,
Go where it goes.

You cannot hole me in here,
There's too much I haven't seen.
You cannot hold me with fear,
Once my mind has been set free.

There's a busy station somewhere,
And I must be a passenger,
Be a part of greater equation,
The begins here and ends nowhere.

But you keep me held down,
Telling me you're keeping me safe,
You only hold your ground,
So you might not lose face.

My world grows emptier,
Darker, and smaller each day.
Would you hold your ego greater,
While you watch my mind fail?