curiosity

The Elephant in My Cell

You came at a bad time.

A terribly, terribly bad time.

You showed up the moment I couldn’t stand to touch you.

I was afraid you were never going to come.

I should have been glad you came, but why am I not relieved?

Is it that crippling fear that the moment I touch you, you fade away like a ghost?

Is it that you might be a whistleblower looking for an insecurity to use against me later?

Or is it that you are trying to distract me from tending to my garden before it dies of thirst?

 

I want to shout, “Why didn’t you come sooner?!”

I want to shout, “Where were you when I needed you most?!”

I want to yell at the top of my lungs, “Would it kill you to tell me what’s driving you away from me?!!”

But I am too nice. Too kind and gentle to scream and point to the elephant in the room.

The very elephant that a sorcerer pulled out of his hat and crippled both of my limbs.

 

I never wanted to call for help because it reinforces the notion that I should still be in high school.

I’ve crawled around all year avoiding the other teenage drama queens that worship dragons.

Seems like they forgot that dragons like to steal our fortunes and our hearts. Before they eat them.

 

Spending time with my open-minded little brother has planted a seed of doubt in my head.

A seed that gets me thinking that all love does to me is waste my time experimenting with false hope.

 

My imaginary nights with a fallen angel goes along the lines of;

“Yes, yes, honey, shower me with hugs and kisses. Oh, my love, how I yearn for you.

Pleasure me with your lust until the water in your veins runs out and you become a raisin.

Only then, will I toss you in the sun and wonder why the hell I’ve never gotten lucky.”

When will the water cycle end for the both of us?

What compels Venus to bewitch me to make bad choices?

Why else do you think independent seekers with degrees in hand avoid commitment?

Our grandparents and parents are more patient than our generation is now

Because compared to us, they tended to their gardens and their raisins.

You did a bang-up job tending to me by showering me with promises you can’t keep,

With complex wisdom about human nature, stories of your struggle to get your education over with,

And the snuggles and touches that I wished were real more than the chains I dream of shattering.

 

You’ve made this game look so easy, you know?

All that had impressed me about you lately is how you’ve lured me into your arms,

Only to neglect me without warning when the sun was at its hottest.

Part of me does not wish to see you go because I tolerate the pain that your absence has left behind.

You scarcely have time on your hands, but would you care to join me for a cup of jasmine tea?

It won’t take long. What I want to know next is what else is new that you have yet to tell me?

Curiosity

Once the world was the center of the universe.

At least it was considered to be, back then.

Then, a revelation in some person’s mind

transforms the world’s view of the cosmos.

The birth of science brought still more complex

understanding of the infinite and infinitesimal.

Yet there is always also a state of calm

between the chaotic periods of discovery.

There are pauses wherein curiosity is satiated,

and the masses accept their place in the big picture.

Except at the same time, nearly every single day,

Nature humbles the human mind once again.

One cannot help but think, that if history does repeat itself,

it is inevitable before the next calm comes rolling along.

Even more astounding, it is unimaginable what

the next idea to shatter that coming silence will be.

Our understanding will never be complete.

If so let us hope, Curiosity, is a force rivaling gravity itself.

 

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I Wonder

How is the sky so blue.

Does anyone has a clue.

And how is the sky so white.

And when it's night, the stars shine so bright.

Do you know how the grass is so green.

Or is it all just a dream.


How do the earth has countrys.

And how does a seed grows a tree.

Why does knowledge make's you rich.

And when you play the fool you end up the opisite.


Why do people eat food to survive.

And when we have pain we sometime's cry.

I wonder why we sing.

And why we like to bling.

I wonder everything.

Cuase i too love to bling.

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tags:

Tempting

When, where, who, what

I already know the rest
Dreams come and go
Crushes are put to bed
The unknown lying in the future 
Would you ask if you had the chance ? 
Take a look... What harm could be done 
Discover all in a glimpse 
Tempt you! Urge you! Dare you! 
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I wondered

Folder: 
Finished Poems

Saturday I watched the snowfall, as I walked on the sidewalk;

I wondered, why did I hate snow so much, if all it was, was water;

The Icee thin crystals were soft and beautiful;

All the little kids loved making snowmen, and having snow fights;

I wondered, had I lost my spirit?

 

Yesterday I watched little kids, more like stared;

All the laughter and screams came from them in the most joyous way;

I wondered, why did children enjoy laughing and screaming at nothing;

Is it because i'm grown and they're still innocent human beings;

All you had to do was look at their cute baby faces and they would laugh;

They would laugh because they're innocent.

 

Today I watched my puppy play, more like tease my cat;

I wondered, why did my dog like being so playful;

Her thick, black and white tail had slapped my cat in the face;

Yet she moaned and growled as if to laugh at her doing;

I wondered, why can't I have as  much fun as my dog?

 

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Dangerous Curiosity


What?

Who?

Whose?

When?

 

Where?

Whom?

How?

Why?

 

Hold your tongue, for God’s sake,

And give me some time to answer back!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Einstein once said- "The important thing is not to stop questioning"- I'm quite sure that he wouldn't support the way the beloved continues asking myriad of questions at a stretch in the poem above!

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tags:

Striped Hoodie

I'm a computer
I sometimes freeze.
Too many windows
Stop clicking. Please.
Just give me a slap
With your words
Or stare
Or if you wait, just a second
I'll be right there
With accuracy, precision so fine.
Loading with me, you like it from behind.
Above the sky below the belt
When you look back hold on to that feeling you felt
Hold on to the wonder of how and why

Year round with me you're like the 4th of july.

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Ever Changing Eyes

Thinking on the dew of a just-born day, what today seems so vibrant, tomorrow grey?
For now the shapes they bend into figures and ornaments wrapping and surrounding me like their purpose is only to supply a place where new smiles on my face can grow. The colors, they twist and crackle, they sparkle and gleam, jumping for point to place dancing, dipping and diving all around sparking flames of brilliance not unlike the ones prayer’s followers hope to unite with.
How long can this continue on before these colors, these shapes, this myriad of dreamscapes turn from twists and bends to writhing and seizing. The colors glowing so brightly they block out the timid beauty of the sun, the tender calling of the ocean’s decadent rainbow. The shapes, like the leaves of fall, stumble and crack against the wind of time, dying out and falling just short of another beautiful cycle.
Perhaps though, in this life’s bliss less downfall, in it’s breaking and fading apart, a new ending will become far away; objects forming worlds as the tumble together from their end to an elegant new beginning. The bright whites and gleaming colors collapsing into each other so as to splinter and fracture, molding and forming just to show it’s not how bright they were, it’s how well they responded to each other. It’s not how the shapes fell together, but how with dignity they fall apart. It’s not that the sun was gone, it’s just that sometimes the singing and dancing make for a better view…

September Days

An autumn chill seasons the still atmosphere,
Leaving its harvest spice settled on golden leaves.
Distant aromas linger of freshly bound books,
following the watering temptations of a delicatessen.
A man's jacket wore him like an owner,
suited to complete his eclectic persona.
Blondie brownies showcased indulging taste,
all the while oatmeal cookies kept warm on a plate.
An unending sea washed us ashore,
from a school of fish to lost nomads on dry land.
His world displayed the unending literary arts,
as that too was my cosmic identity.
The twine of captured words awoke,
while gathered books slept on wooden shelves.
A dreadful call was cue for the closing hour,
yet my stubborn hourglass stood fixed at half full.
Its colored sands sifted at a graceful pace,
as if a sign for the god's reinvention.
Time's infinity of scheduled events,
catered to the fulfillment before expiring.
Polished eyes soon morphed into the twilight's solstice,
luring an invite to drown in September's last days.

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