The Poetry Marathon

Sun sets,
in the west,
or does it?
How does it matter,
north or south,
left or right,
ahead or behind,
the world goes on
along with the sun.

Chandeliers swayed,
moths confused,
dark night, loud storm,
stage was set,
the murder was done,
in the altar,
with God as witness,
a life was taken,
no one resurrected.

The multitasker,
graceful, grateful
and gracious.
Devoted, tolerant
and hardworking.
a teacher, a nurse,
a chef, a cleaner.
A million titles,
a million roles,
that you give
and shame her
for not being
a robot, or a goddess,
a mythical being,
with superpowers,
for being a human.
Its not a compliment,
but a trap,
a well crafted prison.

I don’t want to be
a goddess with twenty arms,
let me be a human
with two.

Almonds and cashews,
lemons and limes,
with berries of sorts,
off they went,
for a picnic.
A bright sunny day it was,
Until it wasn’t.
Little mushroom
with her big fat hat
became the umbrella
and saved the day.

Knock knock,
“coming to get you”
quick,
under the bed,
behind the door,
in the cupboard.
Hide and seek,
wish it was a game
and not the life.

Tall buildings,
tarred roads,
memorable monuments,
amusement parks,
homes and dreams,
engulfed in ivy.
Busy streets
are still busy,
with rats and penguins.
The city looks green,
not in a way they dreamed,
abandoned and dying,
mesmerizing,
tiny little flowers
peeking from balconies
playing peekaboo
with bees and birds.
The city is still alive,
It will always be.

She shouted,
screamed,
cried,
for help,
from this trap.
She is trapped
in a moment of joy,
she wished it to last
forever,
forevers are dangerous.
Her moment of joy
is turning into
moment pain
and she’ll soon
hate it,
as boredom starts to work.
Poor one,
all she wanted was to be happy
forever,
little did she know
forevers are dangerous.

The closer I got,
the farther I was.
You think you got it,
its deceiving.
The same pattern
over and
over and
over again
beyond dimensions.
On each groove,
there’s infinite more.
Recursion.
A blink of an eye,
and your life ends,
on one of those grooves.

Eyes burning,
limbs tired,
head throbbing,
the world went grimmer,
darker and sad.
What do I need
to go on
forward?

The cold creep up,
through the skin,
into the bones,
into the soul.
All I could do was
to think about you,
the warmth,
the heat.
Wonder what it did,
was it warmth
or a sharp chill
right in the heart.
Out bodies were warm,
but the heart,
a bit too cold.
It kills me,
slowly,
and then,
all at once.