this and that

you know what's tiring?
this. 
ah, but now it has become that.
now if this were that...
but then again, it is, isn't it?

if only life were signified
by something other than 
this tiresome fluidity -
or is it that?

the wishful rebel

but how would i know its time?
i see signs all around -
what signal am i waiting for?
nobody's told me the password
i never learnt the code 
(i am certain there must be one)
i stand looking at the fading horizon at dawn
and gaze at the burning crimson at nightfall
i keep turning around 
expecting a tap on my shoulder.
there has got to be one.
how else will i know, right?

i ask my heart

it is not your loss to grieve
it is not your grief to mourn
then why do you ache,
why do you feel heavy?
tell me .. i want to know.
the silent sadness of the heart
is all i get.

i am talking to you...

Stop me.
so i can go on.
Laugh at me.
so the tears arent afraid to flow.
hope for me.
so i know its the end of the road.
take me seriously.
so i can play through life.
respect me.
so i can roll in the mud.
reassure me.
so i wait for nothing anymore.
define me.
and watch me break free.

nostalgia

Nostalgia,
you make my yesterdays glow
come paint my today with your colours.

youth nor childhood match
your glorious sepia tint.

i want to be beautiful again,

i want to feel whole again.

spread yourself and cover

all of me and mine.

important conversations

the corporate office of the mind
in its innumerable cubicles
is busy in furious page turning
to find a conversation starter,
any conversation starter,
now that the filter of appropriateness 
has been set aside.

every page that makes it
out of the tattered files
that are our lives,
and their most recent, 
even if the most mundane memory -
'REJECTED'.
"it does not seem right" 
"it won't work."
"too risky" -
too much reasoning, same result;
too much thought, same action.

rejected conversations.
dejected conversations.
unsaid conversations.
dead conversations.
it is safe to shut down the office.
the work has been outsourced
to silence.

sophistication

just look at the rustic shambles of your life.
for god's sake.
of course they laugh at you when you talk of spending your day sitting alone humming a tune.
of course they scoff at you for not being like them, and what's worse - not even wanting to be like them.
your world - its the stuff of nostalgia. things one talks about, not lives out.
yes yes, they did say 'keep it simple'; but simplicity, my dear, is fashion speak.
really now. didn't they teach you anything?