I Am- II.

March 31, 2013 § 9 Comments

I am the algebra, the meaningless numbers you cannot define.
I am the pain at the loss of something you wanted badly.
I am the brain chemicals which make you panic and act stupid.
I am the serial killer, the stranger in the dark.

I am the calculation, the girl who knows how to set things right.
I am the joy of reaching a far-fetched destination.
I am the much-needed sanity on those long-nights.
I am the daughter, sister, friend and lover. I provide meaning.

I am naive and inquisitive.
I am limitless and i have my boundaries.
I know it all, and i am still learning.

I am the one who is suicidal
and i am the one still alive.

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I am.

Dream-III.

March 28, 2013 § 7 Comments

In the moment when
my mind lingers between
reality and my inner world,
I think of you.

Of your heart beating against
mine, your naked shoulder
caressing my skin, my long
tresses leaving a trail of
desire on you.
Of my aching flesh.

I wake up and see your
face in the clock on the
wall. Each detail of your face
etched upon my subconscious.
You smile your cryptic smile,
the one I’ve been trying to
interpret for a month now.

I sit up and let you touch
me. Yes, at places I didn’t
know existed inside of me.
At places long forgotten.
Our bed seems infinite,
spreading past the window
and we’re covered in moonlight.

You lean into me, foreheads
pressed together. Holding my
gaze, you run your fingers
and play me like a guitar.
I grasp at your hair and you
sink into my flesh.
And then, disappear.

In the moment when
my mind lingers between
reality and my inner world,
I think of you.

I wish the dream never ended.

Dream.

Dream – II.

Us.

March 27, 2013 § 17 Comments

The sudden weight as
you lean into me.

I feel the beating echo
of a heart, in your mouth.
Feels like a lost key.

But this is a rarer place. I
had forgotten this feeling.
My absorption of your slow,
cyclical, nameless grief. My
acceptance of it.
And the point where i am
no longer a stranger to myself,
no longer a stranger to you.

I engulf you in me. I hold you.
And i can’t remember a time
when i didn’t know you. It
feels like i’ve always been you,
and you’ve always been me.
Like a million rainbows super-
imposed over each other.

And afterwards, there are fewer
shadows in the late evening garden
and the air is softer. And we are
kind to each other.

I will forget again. I always do.
But you will come again, and i will
hold you again, and be glad to do it.

If.

March 23, 2013 § 11 Comments

If I give up, things will come right,
so they say.
If I tell you that I have given up on you.
If in response you rush joyfully into the distance.
If I turn my head to hide my tears.

If I walk away, quietly.
If I walk long enough, to a far distant place.
If it doesn’t work and I find I am truly alone.
If I relinquish my ego to the heavens
but they return it back to me.
If the heavens decide I need it in order to do my work.

If I ask ‘Where is the way?’ and look
among the houses to find a Teacher
who’d help me find Way.

If it doesn’t work and the teacher is already
gone to find his own path.
If he only left me a book and it doesn’t
contain the way to the Way.

If it turns out that this is the Way
and I am already on it.
If the Way leads me to a thousand different
houses, and each house has a piece of puzzle.

If once I find a piece, I must move to another house.
If some of the people from the houses follow me.
If I become a teacher, incomplete as I am.
If letting people call me a teacher is a shameful piece of egotism.
If I am always a student, deep down.

If only all the pieces were in one house, I could
sit and build that house
and invite everyone over.
If I built the house anyway, everyone can
bring their pieces.

If I’m not strong enough to build the house, I
can build a room of my own.
If everyone comes and adds to it,
it’d turn into a b’ful room.
If that house is like the house of Wikipedia.

If there are still pieces missing we can make them
ourselves, or just enjoy the puzzle.
If it doesn’t work and the puzzle has an enormous hole in it.
If I get scared and unsure looking at what’ve we done.

If I go back to the road and the search,
away from the people and the hole-d house.

If you would walk beside me, it might be nicer.
If you would walk beside me, each of us might be less lonely.
If you’ve got some of the puzzle pieces, even better.
If you’d give me your pieces, there might be no hole in the house.
If you are walking beside me now, but my ego is blocking my senses.
If you’re talking to me now, and I’m too deaf to hear you.
If you’re looking at me, but I am blinded.
If you’re holding out the pieces, and I don’t take them.
If you want to swap them, for something even more precious I am holding on to.

If you know you are the one, do not knock at my door, just come on in.
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Photo credits : A Pensive Polaroid.

Whoever you are.

March 17, 2013 § 8 Comments

Done with our work for the day,
we go out. To a fancy restaurant. You,
me and our friends. Where a music
channel shows tacky videos of
shallow singers. We laugh at ’em.

We talk about work, music and
life: the regular stuff. Bitch about
the ones who didn’t turn up.
What’s the plan?‘, you ask.
I want to curl up on a couch
and eat hot chocolate‘, i reply.

We go to this another lounge
that’s newly opened. Aesthetic, we’ve
heard. All country-style, done with a
fireplace. I kick my pumps and sit
on the couch with folded legs, eating my
hot chocolate. This one plays
an old U2 concert.

All i want is you‘, Bono sings. While
i stare into your eyes. Deeply. You wink.
Next he sings ‘With or without you‘,
as he chooses a girl with straight hair,
and a black vest. She lies down on the
stage with him, singing.

And it’s a magical night. You touch
my fingers, put your arm around my
waist. And sing along.
I can’t live with or without you.’

It’s exactly how I’d imagined I’d
be loved. As i sit crawled up in
your arms.

Whoever you are.

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Depth III.

March 16, 2013 § 13 Comments

The night you faced the
sea frightened me more
than anything in life.

You stood and screamed as if
you were unafraid. As if you
were indifferent to the life
that gushed out of you.
Words dribbled out of your
mouth but mostly i could hear
you fighting against the
waves as they were carrying you
away from me.

I called for you to come back,
the voice trapped inside my head.
I knew that i would be drowned in
the waves and the gushing sea
but i kept calling out. It felt like
someone had lightened me up.

Maybe one day when i have
learnt how to swim the depths
of your ocean, i could do more
than to call you out from the shore.

Depth.

Depth-II.

On Relationships.

March 15, 2013 § 8 Comments

Humans, in their love relationships, are like porcupines out on a cold winter night. In order to keep from freezing the animals huddle close together. But as soon as they are near enough to provide critical warmth, they get poked by each other’s quills. Reflexively, to stop the pain and irritation of too much closeness, the porcupines separate. But once they separate, they become cold again. The chill sends them back toward each other once more, only to be impaled all over again by each other’s quills. So they retreat again. And then approach again. Endlessly.

And the cycle repeats, as they struggle to find a comfortable distance between entanglement and freezing.

 

~Deborah Luepnitz, from the book Schopenhauer’s Porcupines.

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