On nights like these, disappointment creeps into my veins,
Slow and languid, and unrelenting,
It lingers around, fogging my brain
Of people I miss,
Of words left unsaid,
Of the letters that lie in the closet waiting to be read,
Of moments that rip apart every last shred of hope,
It lingers around as the night settles in,
soaks me in a silence, dark and deafening,
It lingers around until sunshine
through the creek of my window,
Wanton and luscious, and fierce,
And whisks me away, towards a new dawn.
Can’t believe 2018 is coming to an end. Well here’s wishing a phenomenal 2019. Here’s to hope, love, light and laughter!
When I’m drowning in an ocean of nothingness, when despair begins closing in, like quicksand,
All I seek, is a hand
to hold, to pull me forward, to lift me up from the tatters,
to calm down my jitters,
So, when I’m dreary and can fight no more,
When there’s nobody and nothing left, to implore,
When every last speck in the universe pushes me to give up, to let go,
I see light, I see reason to stay, I see, hope.
The smile on her face lingers,
as her trembling hands and fumbling fingers
grapple the tiny carton
of apples. “I’ll take this home for my son,”
she says. I notice the fatigue in her eyes as I turn around to leave,
when, she gently tugs at my sleeve,
thrusts into my palms, her last bunch of orchids and yew,
and whispers, “Thank you”.
It’s easier than you think,
sharing, might perhaps, help make your day a little less unsettling.
I secretly collect words
that remind me
I hold close to my heart,
that breathe life into my soul,
I’d give my all, to relive,
and string them together,
one after another,
in monochrome, in colour,
so when I’m broken, and lost,
and a forlorn, blithering mess,
the beacon of hope,
that’ll push me to dream
of new forevers.
What do you do when you’re devoid of ambition?
Do you shut yourself up and stop looking for inspiration?
Do you mask your emotions and scoot ahead because that’s where everyone else wants to be?
Do you pretend to stick around until the exhaustion seeps in and you begin to feel empty?
Do you pause, and unwind?
Do you play peek-a-boo with your mind, every time it wants to step back and rewind?
Do you tread on eggshells when you choose to resist change?
Oh, and what do you do when the world somersaults towards the next new crown? What of your adrenaline rush? What of all your panache? Do you begin to find them a little too strange?
Left to myself, I’d work just enough to fetch me square meals, three,
Find my joy in Wordsworth’s poetry,
Drown my sorrows watching The Big Bang Theory,
And, let my world begin, and end, with the tattered, old pages of Laurel and Hardy.
She’s wild and free.
Oh, what’s the word?
She floats like a dream,
Eternally, inexplicably besotted.
She fights her battles alone,
Yet, calls the world her home.
You can’t keep her off,
You can’t bind her in,
She’s mellow, she’s sovereign,
She is a handful,
Quite like the curls you see, on her “tiny” head.
It takes a lot of restraint
To pretend to not know you,
To maneuver past
Your looming presence,
The longer you linger,
The harder I find it
To let you go.
I seem to fail,
I choose to wipe traces of your existence,
I choose to erase memories bygone,
Every time I realise,
I have, without choice,
Ingrained you deep,
Into my veins.