evening waves

Evening waves,

tell the most beautiful of tales.

 

Electronic

grid-like fluctuations,

jittering trepidation:

 

waves,

 

lulling

each other out of and back to

incandescent

sleep.

 

Murky mercury

hiding under slick

silver.

These

glowing

pre-pubescent hills,

too scared to expand,

hence, retract,

push back.

 

Suddenly with a playful,

almost knowing

glint,

they change their mind,

and roll forwards,

loll their head back,

with hair that

sprinkles baritone

hums

down the ocean’s spine.

 

Hums of

an unrecognizable

tale;

just like the tide,

it spirals out of its

shell as rapidly as it

scurries back

behind a

wave’s swish

of a gown,

hiding their blooming

flourishing

cheeks:

 

ready to exhale

salty relief.

 

And if the tide

subsides

and if

the waves

turn sleepy,

eyelids folding over the shore

with what seems

like

infinite

patience,

 

then, humans lean

over. Look closer,

and in this miracle,

they see

featherlight depictions

of who they dream

to be:

sensual figures

skate alongside

waves,

ever morphing

ever merging,

becoming one.

 

For that second,

life seems a bit more

mystical.

capsize

I can’t muster up,

roll up,

a compendium of courage

just enough

to balance onto this string,

so i’m always on

tiptoes,

either grappling for gravity

or

floating (so high I can’t feel my fingers)

 

teach me these few

things, how not to:

clip fingernails to

split knives, then try to trace my face

or smash teacups

because the house has

ceased to whisper (i can’t stand silence)

or scorch the tips of pencils

when words stay hanging below my throat,

limply,

refusing to move any

farther onto paper

 

sometimes,

if my mind eases on the accelerator,

i’ll make sure to

stand under a storm

and hope for lightning

i’ll have my hands full of

plasma coalesced into electricity

(so blue it could burn your eyes)

at least there’s this

effervescence,

i may say,

that I can dissect,

squint into,

pick and fiddle with

like an old toy

made out of unknown

mechanisms

 

my life is a time bomb

and i’m running away from

the silence between each tick

tick

tick.

from feeling like

an empty hotel room with

undone beds.

don’t leave me vacant,

 

 

I’d rather capsize a boat

than have it float

sparkling water

Frizzling,

sparkling water

effervescent

trepidation

on the edge

of serenity

 

capsules of gas

clumped up like

clams

coating the bottle’s

edges

 

a few brave ones

push off

shoot off

towards the glimmering

exit sign.

the portal to the

external

breathing world.

 

they start off

timidly advancing

upwards,

trembling,

trying to justify their

actions,

then…

pop!

off they go

hitting the water

surface,

and disappearing

with a glint

 

a cry for freedom

from the ones left

behind as you

close the bottle

between my two front teeth/an ode to nature

it’s like a gasp,

mouthful of mountain air

after spending

3AM

underwater

 

i’ve finally

raised my head

let the crickets

cradle my hair,

wind straighten my shoulders

and ill let birdsongs

stretch my lips apart

so earth can fit through

the gap between my

two front teeth

 

green, green of

morning leaves,

rustling trees,

broken knees

stitched back up

by the arborescent

fingers and strips

of creation

 

i feel its

majesty

bow down to me

as i bow down to

it.

it’s sacred tongue

glides over the

wrinkles on my

hands, between my

toes and thighs

 

i’ll let myself fall

back for once

into that cosmic

perfection

suppleness

watch these

teardrops crawl down

your soft

supple skin-

not so supple

actually,

if your fingers can graze

those thorns

made up of piled up

regrets and retorts

sinking into your cushion

when you sleep

when will you realise

you turn on the engine

press accelerate,

cloud your eyes with

gasoline and exhausted smoke,

then you’ll let out a sigh

saying it hurts

stop stepping onto

your window shield to block your

vision, thinking only others

deserve something clear

stop thinking eyes don’t need to

glance this way

because there are miracles

and you’re not

one of them

stop bowing down,

letting hair get into the

way of reality,

stop falling into arms

of those charms, sugar-coated

in self-victimisation

remember what you have

in your backpack,

(but don’t tie strings to it)

you may drop things here and

there,

never finding them again or

tripping on them

and some days you may find that

your fingers extend a little longer

or

shorter

or you might just discover

you’ve grown another tooth-

just stop those hands from ripping it all

off

instead

stand still

freeze

agree

with it all

and

adore

soar in the

vastness

of possibilities

Broken Promises

She looked at him, amazed, with pure joy. It was as if she’d seen him for the first time. For her, he was like a luminescent spark appeared after rubbing two rocks together for countless minutes. Her eyes admired every single bit of the man she knew so well.

She was leaning towards him in her bed, her frail body almost trembling with emotion. Continue reading

Plants, People & Music

I really adore plants, of any type, if that matters: young ones you can barely see and those that could almost overshadow you; dying plants, which cripple out complaints, and blooming ones that let out strange green auras. There are just so many types of plants; my head wants to spin in awe. There is so much variety, and they all live along together in a quiet flow of calm.

It’s especially refreshing when I find them in unexpected places. I’ll turn into an alley – and there’s a plant crawling up the windows – “Oh! How charming!” I’ll say to myself. I let its green tenderness sink through my thin skin and into my veins. Maybe at that moment, I can feel a little less worried from this life. Occasionally, the plants exhale a gentle blow of oxygen towards me as a thank-you – that is when I feel grateful.

At times, that even makes my day.

. . .

I hurry a bit faster towards the Yoshios’ apartment. Ms.Yoshio has asked me to babysit her newborn baby. Being slightly broke, I did not refuse such offer. I will exit that house with a bit more money. Continue reading