Think hard and fast. You need to promise. Weigh your high end plans That May end up doped, Your Gucci clusters, Your Versace threads, Your flights to nowhere. Promises are made To be – Stop!… More
it feels like someone is sitting on my chest
and the panic is like a wet cloth pressed on my nose
and i cannot breathe
some would think i am a seeker of
and some would think i need to be crowned with a tiara
some would tell me brave it out,
this is just another test.
but i know this feeling
it happened when i was cheated on
it happened when my mother was diagnosed with cancer
it happened when i lost a child
it descends like a dementor from azkaban
i feel its mouth on mine
and i cannot remember any light
not a single memory of a smile
but there is this world reeling, reeling, reeling.
preventing any entry of hope or of healing.
The headline read:
“Hate crimes against gay people rockets
In the UK”
To people who have no prejudice.
But I see prejudice
I see it in people I love.
Who say they love me.
This need, to be accepted
By a society,
A society, that says, it is
A civilisation that doesn’t accept
We get caught up,
To be civil, to love?
The more one loves,
The more one hates.
I do not wish to be civil
If loving is wrong.
Love begins with such tenderness –
Even the tears are made of joy!
What wonder it holds in that time,
Oh, what magic it does employ!
The many things that irks love now
Were what held away all its fears.
Who could truly know that sadness
Would supercede past joy in tears?
Each twist in the body was seen,
As some Grecian statue of old;
Now twists are seen with angst and pain
And addressed with manners so cold.
Love glimmered like burnished gold,
When it was young and fresh and new;
But gold doesn’t oxidise with time
And take on shades of green and blue.
Carpe diem, the poets implored,
They chased love and it chased them, too,
This chase has gods fall weary,
Then what the poet, or me or you!
Hubris is a part of all love,
Love declares it rules no ego;
But most of love fades over time,
Under pride and lust’s undertow.
Love, they say, shows its truer form
As it grows with time, some say years,
Some say it lengthens slow or fast
And rebounds truest when death appears.
Love distorts due to other loves,
Experiences are benchmarks here;
Doubt’s a seed people love to sow,
Watered by your own unseasoned fear.
Needless to say, love confuses
All its promises, in the end,
It isn’t love, if fate and time ask
And the imposter agrees to bend.