That Empty Glass

The glass. Enchanting, really. How it captures motion. Drags it along. Pulls it, stretches it. Smiles at it.

The face opposite, blurred. The smiles, broader. Eyes, wider with horror or contempt, whichever you like. The nose, slide-like, placed arbitrarily above the fat flap of double chin.
The light now, spreading faster, wider, circular. The circle of life. Complete, yet in-complete somehow. Trying to make ends meet?

The smile, the blur, the light, the change, the movement, the build up, the climax,
The end.

Surprising, though, how transparent it is. Vivid. Clear, through this glass of crystal. Surprising, I say.

But weird, how we don't mind. These changes. How we don't shout at it for projecting a fallacious us. How we don't imprison it. How it is. It is just okay.
Fine, really.
It's just glass.

Defence-s

It's time I thought about you. It's been a while now. Some one year, they say.

They'd know best anyway. They did it to us. They climbed up the staircase, they caught us. The buggers. It was my first kiss, you know. I never came around to telling you that, did I? In the boiling passion of that one night we knew each other, we didn't talk too much. Not really, no. It's different now. I can't not talk when I kiss him now. You know, him. He is special. Its like I am living a blurry hallucination. Such a rush. With him, it is. Yes. You know? It's weird though. There's so much of moaning, groaning and sweet talk. But it's all special I guess.

Here's the thing though. These man-whores, they just wont come crawling out now. They won't. They are asleep under my bed, but they just won't come up to the surface and face me. No. While I am lying there, all naked. With him. His arm around me, our fingers entwined. Nothing.

It's strange, really, how they bashed me up the first time. Just when our lips met. Just a kiss, and it was like there was blood all over me. Today, nothing. Not a word. Not a tingling. No fear.
It feels nice though. Yes.

It's real funny.

Who, What, When? An exploration

The day that never was,
Was the one I lived yesterday
Alone, lonely;
Repenting,
My past,
My future,
My yesterday.

The day that never was
Swept me by.
A hailstorm,
Dust in my eyes.
The iris, wider,
The eyelashes, still thin.
The past. Today?

I don't know
What it was.
Where
When
And how?
Those hours
In my dreams
Another world
I don't know.

Was it?
Yesterday
Or today?
Will it be?
Was it?
I don't know.
It never was.
But it will be.
Today. A dream?

(Led on
And left,
Standing.
Under the sun,
Today, this song I sing.

The day that never was.)

The Dying Father and his Daughter

The room
Dense, empty, stark.
A voice echoed. Sudden.

'Pulse?'
'Negative, sir.'

'Love?'
'Was forever.'

'Laugh?'
'In fits.'

The room had lost its charm. She had gone. Was married away. There were no more memories.
Talks. Chatter. Conversations. It was lost. The charm had swept off. Another home, another place.
There was no answer. None to the doorbell too. It was a plain house. With no-one in it.
Except the ghost of some memories.

Sometimes I wonder how she is doing. Is she happy? Content. Does that word apply?
As I stand here, looking at that rickety old armchair, I wonder.

She had stood there, talked to me. Told me her last wish, to get married.
Love, she had whispered to me. The man, she had talked about him.

I had lashed out.

What else could a father do?

It took two minutes. The confrontation.
She walked out.
Independent women, I say.

I am Unique.

Unique?
With two ears,
Two eyes, a nose.
Unique, Okay.
Maybe, later?

Reality

The Clouds, pink,
An Earthy sky,
Walking stick figures.
It was all fine.
I was, blind. By birth.

Words, when they talk. To me.

Thin pages out of books
Smiling at me,
Alphabets,
Arbitrary
Yet together.