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Tag: emotional

To my friends

To my friends:
now, a new chapter begins.

You, who have stood by me
while all else deserted;
You, who could see
what really mattered.

Those of you I joked around with
or engaged in staring matches
being normal: a myth…
You, who also had sweat patches.

Then there were those closer;
more than just friends
those to be hugged tighter (or pushed further)
to steer clear or worship as godsends.

The Beethovens and Puccinis
astounding, so incredibly talented
others, as dry as ten-day grissinis
or like ancient blades—blunted.

Peculiar, bizarre or perplexed
your faces have been;
while I was not vexed
some things cannot be unseen.

The future world leaders
and the future garbage men
all learned literary readers
some wishing they said “amen”.

The party animals
with seemingly bottomless bladders
others, mammalian cannibals
starting already to climb career ladders.

To be very brief, indeed,
it matters not whence you come
or what devils you believe in;
it’s the shared experiences:
those are second to none
and the cameras we have smiled in
putting aside our differences.

I have a message unsmall:
I love you all.

The sweet morning breeze

Upon these Wallooon fields
Of wheat, cabbage and barley
Where the sweet morning breeze
Brushes all thoughts aside.

They may be of loves past
Of loves in the future
Of self-reflection
Or the entire human experience.

It matters not;
They are all blown away
Far, into the distant clouds
By the sweet morning breeze.

Past/future

It was naïve beyond belief
I thought our love was to stay;
Nor could I imagine the relief
When you finally went away.

Now, looking upon new horizons:
with unknown places left to explore.
I will avoid drawing comparisons:
it will be a new start, nothing more.

Many emotions on this final day

On this final day
where a journey falls away;
a journey of many years
of both tears and fears.
And it wasn’t so cool:
it was only school.

But on this final day
when goodbyes we get not to say
all I am asking for,
a favour, nothing more;
a big, warm hug
something for my heart to tug.
A loving embrace
and then a glance upon each other’s face…

But I guess even such a simple task
Is simply too much to ask.

Riddles in the light (1)

Life’s many facets
discussed and examined
not to mention religious tenets
who were rightfully refuted.

All this while the summer breeze
refreshes these moving thoughts
reminds me to freeze
and enjoy these resplendent sights.

Speaking in riddles
easy it would be
if this orchestra of fiddles
showed me how to see
and indeed how to know, how to tell
a riddle from a fiddle
and showed me how to stop the dilly-daddle.

So many questions in my mind
who knows what answers we’ll find
more questions that devour from within
not knowing what direction to go in.

Riddles in the light (2)

Life’s many facets
discussed and examined
not to mention religious tenets
who were rightfully refuted.

All this while the summer breeze
refreshes these moving thoughts
reminds me to freeze
and enjoy these resplendent sights.

Left, right and centre
and of the faraway stars
and of our collective future
as students who do not frequent bars.

For it is this thought-provokingness
which gives me utmost joy;
these conversations ridden with thoughfullness;
no, it was not a ploy.
Rather, quite a wonderful time
of refuge from life’s sour moments
a solace paradigm.

Fire

Many months ago,
a large bonfire was lit
upon the dust and ashes
of events that preceded it.

A loving, tender warmth
radiating from within;
but the erratic, flying sparks
distracted; instead of a grin
there was confusion, worry
a fear, perhaps, of not knowing when and where to begin.
Or when to end.

Over time, this bonfire coughed and wheezed,
the months took their toll;
transformed from luminous explosions
to almost being extinguished whole.

Yet it endured.
Its embers, glowing in the shadows,
that warmth from them radiated.
Until, one day
be it today,
it has been rekindled.

It has come out of the corners
to once again take centre stage
as I try to turn a life’s page,
it has taken on many colours.

Alas, help it, I will, to grow.
For there is something she ought to know.
Although even myself, I am not sure
whether this uncertainty has a cure.
Only time will tell
whether this sentiment upon which I dwell
should be shared
or as it was until now,
be left as an unattended bonfire:
source of much internal ire.

Flower’s eyes

Reflecting upon the tenderness of years past
ones lived through emotion alone
now that our love does not everlast
like a beautiful, solid, stable statue: now overgrown.

Once mighty, strong, full of artistic wit
already dethroned from its might
today, a weedy, thorny pit
a rather grim and sombre sight.

A thorn in my side, ever it bleeds
remembering you draws my energy
makes worthless my romantic deeds
long time past, we were in synergy.

Can’t thy leeches never leave?
Go into the abyss of time
something you managed to achieve
a feeling, gloriously sublime.

Yet you haunt me still
as I look into this flower’s eyes.
A new future, build I will
of splendour and affection will arise
with or without your aid
my memory of you will fade
as this beautiful lady blooms
with all her sweet perfumes
without your pesky fumes,
a new life proudly resumes.

Past

No, I have not forgotten anything
to your voice, there was a ring;
nor the way your smile used to sing
as you sat there opposite.
There was more between us to admit
your look, for my emotions a conduit
to higher, deeper words inside
as our universes used to collide
emotions words could not describe.

With a sorry, I concede
it lasted longer than agreed.
No longer was I able to read
all your secret and obvious signs;
then, I knew, that this defines
and most certainly undermines
what was left of the beauty;
we realised it was not our duty
to tend to our tender amity.

Behind the door

A howling whirlwind
just as you open the door
“what’s wrong” is not a good question
nor was it the best decision
to ask what’s going on
behind the door.

Upon it, wheels and locks
like on castles, or in clocks;
intricate machinery, thick iron
making your stomach churn.

Lest we forget
no tools are needed yet
it is with simple words,
(human musical chords)
the bars fall loose
slowly shattering
with a shrill shriek.

You’ve opened Pandora’s box:
what on earth do you seek?
Couldn’t you have left her alone,
left her troubles her own?
Safely stored away
kept deep within
kept deep at bay.

On second thought
except those moments when she sought
seclusion, running away from her fears,
in a corner, unable to stop the tears.
When the world crumbles,
its supporting pillars tumble.
Halt!—
A ray of light
stops the rubble falling
a new hope is calling
a rushing spirit
a light glowing bright neon
for you’ve asked
“what’s going on?”

Be aware of a likely torrent
muddy, stained memories
bloody, pained—no longer secretive
like a nostalgic fugitive.

Fill your soul with empathy before
and she will be grateful for evermore.
This one fight will be won
For you’ve asked what’s going on,
you’ve had to implore,
what’s going on behind the door?