Us (past tense)

Where did we go wrong?

Which steps led us

Away?

The light in your eyes

Lit up my night sky.

My very own galaxy

between the palms of my hands

To think back to those days

when a minute lasted a lifetime

when the winter waves crashed over

the Lido

Your name still flutters

on my lips

when I close my eyes, before I sleep

I breathe in the aroma:

 

Bed sheets saturated in memories. 

Among pillows lie hair

and tears 

and sweat

Remnants of love

and the smell of your skin.  

 

Where once your heart 

was beating

against mine. 

Ache

The gradual drip drip of emotion slightly grew 

Inevitably;

the build up erupted: 

A pool of lust,

of breathing heavy

of roaming hands

Declarations of love. 

Clandestine meetings 

at misty dawn.

Clock stopping hours

Heart-stopping seconds

Electricity charging through nerves 

Golden

Canopies of emotion draped around me
As I lay lazily; hazy in a bittersweet trance
Of memories colliding in midair
Showering me with waves of remembrance
Aromatic nostalgia, perfuming my mind
And embraces of past joys celebrated 
The nirvana of our yesterdays.  

I miss you. 

Random scribble.. Unfinished

The ticking clock cares not for the lashing rain
(puddles collect in guttered hearts)
Nor for the sombre hour of the day
when the grey of the world
descends
in dreary clouds
and suffocates the thoughts 
from my mind

Soporific seconds justifying time
Each day, much like the other:
Dreams for dreamers 
An itinerary for a life not lived. 
The sands of my time built me castles 
Atop of dunes, golden cascades of
Luminance. 

Autumn

Condensation of the soul: a pitter-patter of conclusions.
of thoughts.

A collaboration of anxiety
and a hurricane of tiny specks;
stinging shards of
Delirium 

Inside a hollow room
mournful acoustics echo.
The symphony
of an aching regret.
Of throw-away love

Like a withered tree
upon the equinox eve
the billowing leaves fly

Then fall. Upon a rotting ground
their faces turn to the heavens. 

Insomnia

The moon’s glow was subtle 

Feebly casting beams onto a frosty world. 

Vulgar lights strutted dazzlingly 

Scaring sleep from my eyes. 

Uncomfortable warmth; pillows too soft 

Piercing silence humming in my ears. 

Slumber, mortified at my yearnings, 

Abandoned me. 

Deserted by all forms of rest 

I wandered toward my foe 

Boldly framed, by a curtained window. 

The street lamp glowed on. 

There beyond, lay Neon City screaming 

Abusing the sanctuary of night 

Sparkling garishly 

Killing all hopes of peace. 

Midnight cats pursued shadows. 

The odd owl flew haughty overhead 

Disgruntled by the commotion 

In obvious protest 

to the garish glare 

Of humanity. 

As was I, when insomnia 

Reigned over my mind 

And thoroughly soaked me 

To the bone.

Unfinished..

If I close my eyes
and disappear into a wonderland crystal ball.
I’d hold your hand, and fall into the feeling
and fly.

Moment

The old sash windows had such gapes that the draft billowed into the room. At least it wasn’t raining, she thought. At least she had dry clothes on. The new cigarette pack from the night before still lay awkwardly on the coffee table, almost as if it knew she wasn’t a smoker.  She smiled though, as she remembered how the nicotine made her fingertips tingle. Does everyone feel like that? After the initial drag? Hell, it seemed like a thing she most certainly could get addicted to, should she let herself. But letting herself do things wasn’t something she was accustomed to. The blindingly tight reins of control she kept on herself stifled any whimsical notions, such as an addiction to cigarettes. A blessing in disguise one would suppose.

In the beginning I was just play-acting, teaching my friends, but then I realised these children will never learn to read and write if they don’t have proper lessons. It’s my duty to educate them, to help our country build a better future.

— http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/south_asia/8299780.stm

Remember me when I am gone away.

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

by Christina Rossetti

found in The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti; (Louisiana State University Press 1979-1990)