Not a Bird…Not a Plane

My lover said she wanted me too. My lover said, board a taxi and meet me half way. Along the way I met an old hag. Her knobbly finger pointed me away. She said, you star-crossed lovers, your end is nigh. I turned my nose to the sky. Without a backward glance, I told the taxi-man, Continuer! Continuer! Let’s get the hell out of here!

I checked my map. To my surprise the distance had grown by leaps, turned to miles as far as the eye could see. I asked the Taxi-man, how far my good man to my lover, do you know? He pulled out his looking glass. He squinted his bushy brow. He counted off his fingers as he spoke:

My dear boss, I count nine hundred leagues and a half a score. My taxi cannot possibly go that far. My back will break in two seated with you in this car. I beg you dear boss, let us turn around and get the hell out of here. We will be home in time for a hot bath, a hot meal, a warm bed, a kiss goodnight and a good snooze. Don’t you see it’s the right thing to do? The old hag said—

Forget that old witch. Time for me to ditch this ride. Au revoir my good man! Head back. Warm the old hag’s bed for all I care.  My burdens are mine and mine alone to bear. Go, my man! Godspeed to you before I let loose my tongue! Vamoose!

I hailed a rocket on a docket. I boarded in a second and take off got underway. Up we went and up we went. We twirled in circles and twirled in circles. Zigzagged like drunkards. Zigzagged to space. We landed on the moon. Pit stop. Landed on Jupiter. Faulty calculation. We had a breather before we took off once again. We landed on the stars. Finally! I whipped out my laser gun. I am gonna make the stars so cross at my lover and I. I took out my laser gun and bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The stars…Crossed…The oceans…For me…They crossed…My Lover….And I…I Blasted them…out of the Sky…Our love…Blossomed and Died…And Rose…and Died…The cycle…Of life…It Blossomed…and—FREEZE IT THERE!

Picture perfect.

I was upbeat, drumming my fingers on the rocket dashboard. Humming myself a tune, I was smiling, smiling, smiling. Then I was frowning, frowning, frowning. Unforeseen weather forecast. Plummeting to earth with a super turbo blast. This day, do I breathe my last? I should see my lover! I should see my lover one last time!

<Mayday! Mayday!>

<Is anybody out there?>

<Hello?>

<Somebody help!>

<Dear Lover?>

<Please catch me>

<I don’t want to die!>

<Please?>

<I LOVE YOU!>

BOOM!!!!!!!!!

***THE END***

Lingering Scar

The 30^th November of the year 2008 was one of my worst days and I have had many of those this cursed year. The dream and hope I’d been nursing for 4 years went down the drain.

Lingering Scar, the embodiment of all the qualities intellectual, physical or otherwise I desire in a female finally put a stop to my day dreaming.

She doesn’t want me.

Actually she still wants me though not the way I want her; she doesn’t love me. And I worship the ground she walks on. How ironic.

How ironic can life get. Couldn’t I just love her with this monstrosity of a love and couldn’t that be enough? My love supersedes anything; any emotion I’ve ever had for a human being (over-exaggerated, I know, but it can pass) Let that be enough.

What I am trying to say is, for me to give up what I feel and have cultivated for almost half a decade is like asking me to give up breathing; you’re asking mine to die. Not so soon. Maybe I’ll love her for as long as I live, maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll love again, maybe I won’t. I don’t set about trying t find solutions to every problem and question in life. This is just my first love.

I honed my gift in writing and poetry not so I impress her or line her. She likes poetry and I like poetry. Let that be enough. On the other hand, I wish not my poetry be something she liked and something I wrote but something we shared, our thing.

Before the situation could sink in, I begged and coaxed and threatened and pleaded. I claimed my undying love to no avail. I swelled with rage and paced with anxiety, and deflated with defeat.  And she acted calm as the sea through it all: God! How I love her.

She doesn’t love me.

Maybe she does. Maybe she doesn’t maybe I’m wrong and she isn’t what I make her out to be. Who cares! I relish the ignorance. True love? Fallacy? Infatuation? Look at it your way. It won’t modify what I feel in any way. Maybe I know that it’s over.

I am torn to think that someone else is loving her. That someone else is ogling her with lust and I who stripped off her surface and peeped into her inside, I am here. Alone, this minute wondering why the hell we don’t always get what we want in life. She asked me this one time, She asked me this:

“Why don’t we always get what we want in life?” she wants me. I want her. The chemistry is right, the compatibility is perfect; the genetics are suspect but what the hell. If every word I wrote was to win her over, I’d write them all. Without her, I feel ruptured, incomplete; an umbilical cord has been torn from me. My thoughts are scattered in a million ways but yet all crowd together when I think about her.

I still get goose bumps like a plucked chicken when I remember her ways: the way she calls my name, the way she guffaws when she’s amused and slightly embarrassed by something I said; the way she writes in that ugly, cute handwriting. The way she double-writes my name. ..I am lost for words. She’s perfect to me. Perfect for me/

To imagine that I lose her at such a time when I need her the most is most cruel. I could wait for her I know, but what If I wait in vain? What if I put ideas in my mind that she’s The ONE and she isn’t. Wouldn’t I miss hooking up with my one true love? What if Scar is the ONE and I need only to try harder if we are to go places?

So many questions and very few answers in this part-tribute, part-reflection, part-memory. I pray karma is kinder on me.

Silence Falls Thick

When the silence falls thick, unnoticed, wraps me in sinews of flesh, unbidden, robs me of air I am suffocating, When silence is sitting on my chest, unmoving, a death god, unchecked, unwanted, it just won’t budge, however much you try, tell me now, what can I do?
What can I do when heavy silence falls on my heart like steel pylons, robs me of air, unflinching, wraps me in a straitjacket of oppression, gags me with his loincloth, unwashed, I am gagging, robbed of personality, slaving in anonymity, wondering who am I? who am I? who am I that the darkness won’t blink; who am I who a myoclonic jerk won’t rouse; who am I who a heartbreak won’t douse; who am I? Who am I? Who am I?
When the sinews of silence stretch taut around me, suffocating the thoughts buzzing in the darkness sewing black cloth to house me; when the death god turns host to accommodate me, tell me now, who can I call upon for a few words of comfort? When my ears buzz in absence of sound and my mind echoes with static devoid of all thought, when my eyes see the silence for what it has become, when my name slips through my conscience and my words leak through my jowls, like…like…like…I cannot remember, for the silence is a thief, a robber, a taker, a devil and I am devoid of all want.
What do I want? WANT? WHAT? WANT? What do I want? Before I forget, before silence, the thief, the robber, the taker, the devil, robs me of all want, project this need, do this one deed, tell me now, what do I want?
I WANT YOU!
I want you more than the wholesomeness of thought brimming in my head, I want you, if I forget, I would want you, to whisper it in the caves of my mind, whisper it in the silence of night, until it echoes in this deadness of thought.
I want you to be the last thing I forget.

A figment in my Lover's memory

Dear Beloved

You very well know what happened to make me this way…you were at the center of it! You found me fully in control of the universe of ME and you pivoted me off the axis of my planet. And now here I am, dizzy from the breakneck roller-coaster I just had the misfortune or the honor (not yet decided which) to have experienced.

A quickie relationship, you could say – Get In, Love Insanely, Get Out. OMG! I am breathless! And confused! OMG! That just didn’t happen – You just PASSED through me! Like I am a freaking corridor! That ought to sting like a bee!

YES! Here I am, not yet sure where I stand. Should I fight? Should I slink away into the dark? Can’t I stalk you? (WICKED GRIN) Just a little bit! NO? YES? Make up your mind woman!! Ugh!! NO it is. That’s okay still, I had to try you know.

I am trying to play back the initial love scenario in my head – was I too easy? Must have been? The minute you broke word of how I germinate butterflies in your tummy, I was bowled over. JUST LIKE THAT! SNAP!!! I admit that was easy…even for a mastermind like me, veteran of a dozen mental love conquests! I never fail to impress. Too bad it’s all in my head…

Now you left… or so you think, I offered you my heart…and you gladly took it. I gave it all. And its all for keeps. I sold my soul to the memory of YOU, every little whisker and mole. I GAVE IT ALL. You don’t just get to up and leave. –my love is no-strings-attached. When you leave, you leave with a sizable chunk of me. The good part of me. I cannot get it back. I am yours for good- GOODS ONCE SOLD, ARE NOT RETURNABLE…

Listen to reason, especially if it comes groveling in the dirt…

Dear Beloved…

Death Note

Dear Diary,
When you read this, know that that its already too late and I am dead already so do not shed your Ink; do not think I did not love you, for surely I did, as much as I was allowed to; but everything has a beginning and an end, and I suppose this is the end for me and the beginning of a different journey for you, one without me. I neglected you so.
I am accustomed to dying already, done it so many times already, but man! Every time it gets harder and harder to bear the pain- of dying inside. Death is such a dark lonely place. It’s so cold, so threatening to be all alone, to die alone and not have at least one soul to tell your story. But I am dead already, so it doesn’t matter much.
I thought I would continue caring for the comforts I cared for before. Sadly, I don’t. Dying is no different from living a half-life. For death is a half-life as it is. I go through the motions of death (Call it Life if you may) with a faraway look. The days are a blur. The food is bland, water…well that at least still tastes the same- like nothing! My legs trudge on, the lungs breathe on, my eyes look on as I live or as I die. For each moment I breathe, I die once more.
At least you didn’t leave Dearest Diary- though I suspect you would have done the same had you little windy legs and flailing arms to carry you far away from me. I know you too would have chosen to make a run for it. I do not blame you. I am a marked man and as is the way with marked men, they lose everything they hold dear to them. What is one more heartbreak? What is one more loss? What is one less Diary to keep at my chest for comfort? You do not want me anymore. I neglected you so.
Dear diary, mark my words; I will be less of a burden to you. My death marks the day I will release you from my bondage. I will rid myself of any renegade feelings I felt for you. Live a happier life than I could give you. I have to go now. Keep my secrets and I will scratch you back…