August

Remnant of Love

pexels-photo-320266Someday, the flowers will wither

They’ll lose their colour and charm

They’ll close their eyes in defeat

And mourn the dearth of affection

Someday, every grain of happiness will disappear

There’ll be nothing left to cheer about

Future wishes and hope will fall asleep

And nothing will remain of good spirit

Someday, the door will stop being wide open

The wind and cold chill will shut it out

They’ll force it to cease being ajar

And there’ll no longer be entry

Someday, apologies will win no victories

Sincerity will be deceit in disguise

Truth will lose all value and price

And good intentions will be misconstrued

Someday, the eager bride will change her mind

She’ll choose instead to travel alone

She’ll turn away to tour the world

And leave behind all dreams of motherhood

Someday, there’ll be no remnant of love

There’ll be no sweet kisses or cuddling

There’ll be no playing under the sheets

There’ll be just a book, paper and pen.

 

 

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April

BURNING THE ROOTS OF FANTASY

Who does reality leave less than puzzled
Does Plato’s theme not disturb your thoughts?
That our rich wild world is one of appearance
And world of forms is saved for the mind.

Were our frames fashioned for frivolities
Leaving us destitute of diamonds
In whose purse were our dreams stored
Or were they less than Joseph’s dreams?

What happened to having vivid visions?
What happened to wanting to save the world?
What happened to the childhood dreams
Of living in a castle with prince charming?

What happened to finding light at the end of the tunnel?
What happened to waking up on the right side of the bed?
What happened to becoming the world’s champion?
What happened to soaring on eagles’ wings?

What happened to being untouchable?
What happened to planting gardens and fields?
What happened to happily ever after?
What happened to not waiting for forever?

Socrates taught interrogation
And my soul has made a decision
To never undermine reality
By burning the roots of fantasy.

March

ATOP OLD THOUGHTS

girl in red dress standing on high mountain and looking at the sea.jpgFolks say you just know when it’s time
But that now is a ruthless rhyme
Friends chatter about highway tunes
But you just know that’s not for you
You look through your camera
And wish you had no criteria.

You gaze at the impending valley
From your far view on the mountain
Is this the enchantment that stays
Or the spell that fails only to fade?
Is this the bow that always binds
Or the bond that may never be tight?

Atop old thoughts are misconceptions
Fragments of believe and questions
Pieces of numerous nothings
With the euphoria of new things
Soon troubling the firm fittings
Of past trust and zero misgivings.