My day yesterday was like a thermostat gone wrong, its needle swung from the hottest to the coldest temperature, back and forth, searching for the right measurement, unable to sense what is real and what is not.
I couldn't sleep last night, though I am a regular insomniac, but yesterday it was more acute than it has ever been, I could feel the wind changing its course and my stomach churning, pushing everything up that's stuck inside.
My gut knew but my mind didn't. My mind was going around in all directions like a ship that sailed itself into the Bermuda triangle, and was circling in the same path, over and over again .
We all have our Bermunda triangle moment, or may be not all, just the ones who continue to move from one coast to another, wrecking one ship after another,
in chase of the perfect shore.
// Continued in Caption //-
_'MUSIC'_
Music is always in my brain
It's makes me happy,
& it has a power to heal my pain.
It's makes me happy
when I hear their notes,
make me to sing from the inner soul.
Every verses with grace,
like a swing in soft breeze plays;
Deaths is a carnival of glare,
& the music dawned above despair.
Music comes up in all forms bring peace,
sometimes I feel that it's has own natural beats.
-
Amidst the garth lied my dairy, I remember I kept it hidden near the verdant green plants of red carnation.
It's been a month or more but still you didn't get it. As I wished, it's decaying with the fallen leaves and withered flowers. But I know you will reach there soon, as the whiff of bibliochor mingling with carnations will reach you.
You will find my poetries and journals; half abated but still dancing on the redolence of love and memories.
You will read my every secret; you will know how I kept waiting for you, how every moment I had with you was present there, you will find your words in my verses and you will also find my last entry which was never meant to be the end.
You will want to keep it with you.
But it's my entreaty that let it be there, let it turn into soil.
For I know it will grow into something beautiful,
it will be me growing there with your care...-
On this scale of "who hurt who the most"
On this scale of "who was more cruel"
Your words weigh heavier than my actions
What I did is a memory,
and people forget
But your words are tattoos
Etched on my skin
There aren't enough tears to wash them away
So I will wear them as poetry tonight-
When thoughts come to your mind,
Don't let them go without
a warm welcome in your diary.-