#610 On My Blasted Eyes

Did you ever suspect that we would find each
Other? Through the thickets of false friendships
and brambles of failed encounters, He was leading
Me to you: I was down on my knees, bleeding. Teach
Me to love you wholly, I said. My hands and hips
And blasted eyes are yours, yours for the healing.

#602 On This Box of Broken Hearts

I've trapped a lifetime's worth of memories - 
Letters, photos, broken hearts - they are
Piled on top of each other; shattered fragments
Of lives unrescued, abandoned to Life's vagaries,
Their screams locked away in this box, far
Away from my attention, my daily distracted moments.

#562 On the Poetry of Everyday Things

I want to write about
The poetry of everyday things:
The smell of coffee in the morning
The gentle breeze as I look out the balcony
The fragrance of the flowers on the window sill
The bark of the dogs down in the valley
The growl of the cars zooming past on the road
The uncles and aunties taking their morning walks
The security guard nodding sagely from a distance
The cats lounging by the side of the street
You holding my hand, flashing that smile that makes me fall in love with you all over again, everyday.

#502 On Your Turn

It’s your turn, baby
Who knows how Life will turn out
For now, it’s just us.

(With mad respect to Ty Dolla $ign)

#497 On Ascending

I scratched my hands today
To see if I still bleed
Tried to wash it all away
This deeply-seated need

To love and so be loved
But you cannot reveal
The pain of all these years
You can never heal

What have I become
Your broken child
All I have to taste is
Your dark, tainted bile

And you could never have
My empire of love
I will leave you here, as
I ascend above.

(with apologies to Trent Reznor and Johnny Cash)