So close,
So far away,
Ubiquitous,
Non-existent,
I feel your warmth when you’re near,
The times few and far between,
The laughs and smiles that we share,
Before you vanish from the scene,
I call to prompt conversation,
Never certain that you’ll answer,
Naively hopeful for a response,
Typically ending in disappointment,
Out of the blue you call,
To talk and catch up,
Feeling the same chemistry as before,
Feeling as though we never stopped,
Kind and thoughtful,
Overjoyed by my presence,
Warm and caring,
All words and actions genuine,
The smile on her face when she sees me,
The loving look in her eyes,
The warm embrace she gives,
Me believing there’s nothing to hide,
As she walks away from me,
The smile transforms into a scowl,
The look in her eyes cold and bitter,
The seeming joy and warmth nothing but a lie,
Her friend’s phone rings,
The earlier event is then shared,
Negative words emanate from her mouth,
Falsities and rumors are spread,
Did you notice how, suddenly
My voice thickened with pleasure?
My eyes softened with happiness?
My words brimmed with pride
My eyes shone with love -
As you crossed the threshold
I pointed at you and said -
“That’s my friend”!
Isn’t it a pleasure
To offer succor?
Oh yes, we are so genuine,
Touched to the heart
Feeling, we say, the same pain and sorrow
Though sometimes I wonder if we really do.
Be it death or a lesser misfortune
We condole, condemn the flippancy of fate
That dealt our kith or kin this cruelest blow.
Yet, I wonder, is it regret or relief
That predominates our minds
Regret for them and secretly, guiltily,
Relief that we have been spared for now?
My friend says – ‘Take it easy! Be cool!
Heavens won’t come falling down!’
I take a deep breath; try to loosen my facial muscles
At the traffic signal, I crawl up
Next to my friend's Mercedes
My thirty-three year old scooter
Hardly one-fourth its length.
My friend, his business worth crores
Puts down his Blackberry on the table
Beside my five-year old Nokia,
Scratched, scarred, and shoddy.
He hugs me, his cologne- laced shirt
Wrinkles its nose
At my faded cotton -
It tries to hide the button-less hole.
He said how, one day
He had this vision of a huge Banyan-like tree
Ants marching, monkeys jumping
Birds singing
It is nearly a year since he died;
I have forgotten the date though.
Nearly twenty years senior to me
Though time isn't really a measure for anything.
Time hardly tells you the strength of the bond -
Why, one's siblings are very often the most distant.
Friendship takes seed - hardly does it need a moment
And it grows like Jack's beans, entwining the hearts into one.
He was a quiet person - a painter, photographer
He drew funny cartoons too, though
Looking at his tall, tired frame and wispy beard
You would take him for a philosopher.
In the early evenings, I would call on him-
Sitting on the verandah we would talk -
About murals and the passing of ways of life.
He would tell me about the old town
We were best friends.
It's sad I have to talk about us in the pass tense now.
I once gave my friend a sock on her birthday, attached to the bright fabric is a note reading.
You're a free elf.
That afternoon my heart stopped when yours did
I couldn't breath and the tears started
It was no ones fault and we shouldn't be sad
because you wouldn't want us to be
but when I think I'm never going to see you on the sidewalk or at school, my heart breaks all over again and wish this was all a bad dream
I want more than anything to run into you and give you a hug and tell you how pretty you look and ask how your day is
You were a beautiful human being and you made your mark on this world
June 5th, 2017 was the day you left and took a piece of everyone with you. I hope you're doing well homie
The poems I wrote left emotions untouched,
My feelings lay hidden among my 'friendly' chats,
Only if I were to say what my heart wanted to,
We'd be closer than where we at.
But, what if, it causes dismay,
And I lose more than I have,
And that's why I better not say,
What lies within, this feeling, untamed.
Upon which, lies the misery,
Of having fallen for the one,
Whom I share my worries with,
My best friend is what I call her,
Now in want of a title that'll mean we're closer,
Oh, it'd mean so much more than what stands now,
We'd be there in each other's arms,
Even when miles apart.
Drops on bus window
why do some tarry, others
plunge headlong to ground?
Nearsighted, sensing
rain through library window–
a shiver in air.
Will you stop to count
how many short messages
written on your clothes?
After twenty years
I’m unfriended, for getting
David Bowie wrong.
Purple air mattress
outside Portland; too tired
to switch off the lights.
their eyes dimmed
and one cried while the other huffed and another just kept staring
like waiting for my Sooby-Doo mask to come off
maybe two or three more times
before i'm back to being me
but
when will people finally understand
promises are just empty words
and all of them were just
temporary fill-ins