The Poetry Marathon

It’s time to go now, my child…

No! I can’t. I am too young, my kids are too small –

You’ve raised them well.

They’ll survive

I don’t want them to survive…I want them to live!

I don’t want them to scrummage and

scrimp, bags under their eyes, skin peeling off their feet – NO!

They should study, and travel and laugh

without abandon!

How can I make that happen if I am not around?

They’ll get to their destinations one day.

I promise you, they’ll be okay.  

But I want to be there –

for their graduations and weddings

and heartbreaks and successes –

You can always watch them from above – 

But I can’t make my son’s favourite dish from above

or hug my daughter and pull her cheeks.

Can’t you make an exception – they’ve been through so much

So have you,

you have fought hard,

you should be proud,

you did everything a mother should.

It’s not fair, others get to hold

their grandbabies and

live long enough to befriend their daughters.

Who’ll be there when they are lost?

or scared or confused?

They have each other, they’ll always do.

Their lives will go on without you.

They love you so much, you’ll stay within them

and you’ll find each other, in the end.

But –

Let me take care of you, my child

let me take you to the heavens above

your heart is failing and lungs are tired

I wish it wasn’t, but it’s time to leave

Then leave me be till the very last second,

let me soak in their faces

let them soak mine.

Let it be only me and them tonight

please don’t linger by my side.

Alright my child, I’ll step aside

but come morning, you must abide

for the road is beautiful but it is long

You needn’t worry, 

I’ll carry you in my arms

Conversations, songs, us – steeped in rain,

we lived each moment together,

sure of our forever…

but now our sweet duets

I sing all alone

arms have no one

to embrace.

I’m soaked

alone.

I thought my ‘soulmate’

would fit me like a puzzle piece

a perfect fit

the yin to my yang

bread to my cheese

until you entered and proved

that soulmates don’t exist.

You didn’t fit into my flaws

you weren’t the half I was looking for.

You strutted in with your smile

and your gentle heart

put on your overalls and got to work.

Held up a mirror large enough

for me to see,

that I didn’t need someone to complete me.

I was whole with all my chips and cracks

I wasn’t a puzzle but a fascinating story.

It is true,

two halves do make a one

but when two wholes come together

it is magic.

Ethereal wisps in the dark sky,

I see several moons gliding by,

My feet stop running

slow down to a jog, a walk – they stop.

I lay my head on the grass,

listening to the trees conduct a symphony.

The world looks dark – a soothing dark

like a warm hug that leaves you breathless.

I am in limbo

a pause, a gorgeous interval

where every breath I take

feels eternal…

This too shall pass, people often say

to make you soldier on with a smile

so you plough on

don’t complain

chant it as your soul drains.

It is fire that molds a metal brick

into a sword

but you forget that the brick

loses its form

you burn, burn, burn till

you turn to ashes, rot.

This too shall pass

Yes it shall, but at what cost?

A haunting that scared me

with only words

no images, no jump scares

no sound effects needed

just pen on paper

creating an atmosphere so tense

about a family of three

staying alone in a massive hotel.

It was cold, a gradual descend into madness

a gifted boy, a loving mother

a father whom the place possessed

who roamed the halls

seeing parties, managers, and

a woman in a bath

his mind slowly drained

of reason, love, rationale

till he goes on a murderous rampage

only to die in a fiery blaze.

Be a burst of yellow,

or an eruption of mauve or a flaming red

in the sea of beige that

swallows all.

Dare to be happy

unabashed in your bliss,

celebrate, rejoice, scream with joy,

refuse to let the world paint

your walls, instead

take buckets of the brightest

hues you can find

and splash them on your door

and you’ll see

the miracles that tiny specks

Stand proud, laugh and keep on

adding tints of uniqueness

in the lifeless grinds

that envelope us.

Their eyes met

as they had done then

the band began to play

and her feet fell in step with his

like they had done

decades ago.

They danced to their own tune

their heartbeats making up

for the lost conversations.

The years in between crumbled

to nothing

their forked paths again intertwined

as they glided through the floor

their bodies rejoicing

in the familiarity that was feared lost.

the band played the last song,

the night faded to dawn

to twilight to dusk,

their dance continued

adding new chapters to

an old story.

She would walk into a wedding always

dressed in grace, bliss and happiness

that the older ladies and gentlemen would

label as ‘bold’ and ‘weird’

for she would always pass by

with her head held high

even though she had no man by her side

and would be much older than

the bride.

They whispered about her solo travels

and shook their heads over what was surely

to be a lonely future.

For she was the girl who

was single and strutted around,

daring to be happy.

They would talk, advise,

squash discussions on choices by

throwing words around ‘culture’ and ‘tradition.’

In the meantime, she would just live.

Credit – Last line taken from the book P.S. I Love You by Cecelia Ahern.

Too may boxes for far too long

have been checked on my name

with sweeping declarations –

“You’re fat”, “You’re lazy” “You’re ugly”

“Sloppy”, “Forgetful”

And many have me filed under the not’s

“Not street smart” “Not capable of handling things”

“Not quick on your feet” and

the list goes on.

I listened and I believed

and ripped myself into tiny pieces,

each one scrambling to get a nod,

to erase the tick mark.

Till one day – there was nothing left

and I heard my own voice say  – “Enough.”

Now I am on a journey

that belongs to me alone

and on this path,

I walk as a whole.