moments

 

Sosketchlovemetimes, it’s more than a meeting of minds.

Bodies touching.

A moment.

Precious.

Entirely on its own.

Stands up to the blistering light.

Interrogated.

The humming of the night hushes the blemishes left by words that cannot be spoken.

Postponed for another time.

Hopeful.

We return to the spot.

journey to its serenity

The moment of death is fixed.

Life is nothing but a journey to its serenity.

The moments in between.

Tears.

Conversations at midnight.

Death is a wide open embrace.

Somersaults of winds that bring the rain at night.

Dreams of summer bring nothing but crazy memories of brown skin against wet sand.

The moment of death is fixed.

Life is nothing but a series of steps up a hill.

Tumbling down sand dunes.

Salt water seeps between cracks and gnaws at the wound.

The moment of death is fixed.

Its muted tones leaves a trail of stillness.

I know what I knew then: Lying here would bring me closer to my maker.

the deal

Nothing beats the discovery of love in tree houses.
With birds chirping all around, loud enough to muffle the sounds
that we shouldn’t be making in the first place.
We imagine ourselves in that other city,
In another world another time where no one knows who we are and
where we’ve been
Avenues lined with palm trees,
We walk hand in hand
Far from a life punctuated with uncertainty.
Nothing beats the feeling of stolen moments
Whispers in the dark, secrets sworn
Happy in the knowledge that we’re each other’s One.
With the prospect of marriage looming happily in our horizons
Mirages of a life we’ve been dreaming of for so long.
Well, that’s how we hope it is going to be.
He never escapes my imagination and I his.
He is presence and I am reality.

magic series: i see rainbows

i see rainbows..

even when it doesn’t rain…

i see rainbows…

streams of warm colours

that tremble when touched.

i hear songs

harmonies of pleasure

that hum along over scattered rhythms.

i see rainbows…

and i remember

a time when i loved you

before you could bring yourself

to stop throwing up

at the sight of your face

reflected in the still waters

around our home…

i see rainbows

streaks of hope

between the ribbons of light.

and i wonder

if my imagination is enough

to carry me

to its ends….

book project: lies = fiction

the story of you’s been walking around the world with me for so long, that i’m now lies and fictionafraid to let it go on paper.

you’ve been growing in my head all this time that i can hardly separate truth from lie from fiction.

i’m not me. i’m not you.

what about all the lies? were they part of the narrative of you? a way of escaping the unbearable reality called life.

multiple personalities? there must be, how else do you explain the intricate lives your character is juggling?

paranoia? afraid that someone will figure it all out. the fiction.

anxiety? well…

fear? hardly surprising considering the fictional living

all make for an interesting state of mind…

do the lies we tell, the small untruths, add up to the fiction of you?

if they do, then we are all born storytellers…

magic series: inside out…

inside outSo many bodies,

so many hands that have touched.

Clambering to get away.

It’s like looking in a mirror.

All around me. These faces.

They don’t stop gazing. Looking.

Running doesn’t help.

Climbing walls to get away.

They are already in.

Groping.

Reaching. For me.

Inside.

Scrubbing doesn’t help.

Forgetting doesn’t work.

Climbing walls to get away.

Bordering on music.

I stop there.

Afraid to carry on.

Scared this beastly creation

would leave my body.

Exhausted. I toss and turn.

Tortured by visions

of where I should be.

The lies told to the minds which choose to believe them.

Sometimes we think we know what we want.

Then we get into situations that we believe resemble what we want.

As time goes, and we start exploring what we are in, we realise it’s not quite where we want to be.

Maybe we have changed our minds.

Want more.

Want less.

She is lying on your chest now.

Her body supposedly in this moment.

Her mind, however, is fighting demons.

Trying to forget the one before you

She lies there. Hoping your body will transport her, for a while.

She moans and groans. Hoping to drown any thoughts of him.

The other person in this room.

She needed a place to stay tonight.

Too soon to have another body in her bed.

Hasn’t even had a chance to change pillows from the last time.

She lets you touch her preciousness.

She feels nothing. But wants to you carry on regardless.

Tears streaming down her face.

The embarrassment.

He puts his hand on her chin.

Lifts up her face up till their eyes meet.

She believes what is there. 

Deep down in shallow pools of brightness,

As she tries to wash away the sad spread between her legs.

She hides behind her hands.

Her eyes cannot take the brightness.

She opens her mouth to protest.

Nothing comes out. She retreats.

He keeps on coming towards her.

His arms stretched towards her.

The brightness. 

‘Heaviness is shattering. Colour is lost in its folds’, these thoughts don’t leave her. 

She needed somewhere to pass time. 

No need for pity.

magic: melody, dancing and you

magicdancing..

swaying my heavy body to the hypnotic beat..

takes me to a far away land,

reminds me of a time

when i dared to dream.

dared to remember the cause,

the plan,

the goal.

moving

to the sound of music in my head.

the endless song

playing in my mind’s ear.

i wondered if,

you heard it.

i am hoping that,

you’ll like it.

that it’ll steal you.

give you a peek into another world.

another time

where

the plan,

the goal

all intertwine

and give birth

to a beautiful melody

of time with me and you:

magic.

thoughts: mirrored reflections..

then there are those moments when a reflection in a mirror catches my attention. just as i start to follow it. a shadow cowers over it making it hard to read the words underneath. we carry on…

mirrored reflections 2

listening to the music around us. until the next moment of clear silence comes around. We obey the beat inside and climb into it. Just we are about to reach the pinnacle of the crescendo. It starts raining. While frantically searching for cover. A window pops up, opens wide enough to see the other side.

random: unicorns dipped in magic

make ideas realideas are fleeting acquaintances that come and go as they please. meaningless with no follow up or proper plan for arresting them and turning them into reality. everyone can come up with ideas on tap. most things began as ideas, didn’t they?

some say the best ideas are conceived during moments of whimsical abandon. in rooms full of like-minded bodies, searching together, pursuing a goal.

but they lie, ideas are cheap without any logic in hindsight. they require rationale to work and grow into meaningful creations that can be consumed meaningfully…

here are some fleeting anecdotes that have passed through my head… lately…

unicorns dipped in magic

The silence you only get when it snows\unicorns dipped in magic\bumping into people who look like they don’t have homes\riddled spirits\incompatible figures\incoherent metaphors\comprehension in their eyes\means they tolerate the lies\toldwith straight faces\with no regard\for all the places\these hearts have been to\and back\hope still lives\and love will never lack\spaces to fill…

ideas are fleeting

Pens down\and the genie leaves the room\If you breathe\You won’t miss it\Arresting silence\(is not) tranquillity\Worth every cent\Ideas are fleeting acquaintances\They come and go as they please\Hardly bothering us much\Like the sun shines during the day\And the moon at night\Beautiful strangers who never meet\We consume\without question\