Listen
to yourself often.
Not being born special worked out.
It made you humble and grateful each time,
when you were given a chance
you proved yourself time & again
When people were busy bragging
you trudged silently
but you made it
everytime.
Author: Kanika
My voice to you!
My voice doesn’t reach you there
But I know you hear it
My screams get numbed
But I hope my silences scrape you
a forlorn attempt to hold you
a whimsical endeavor to outgrow you
my memory poisoning my dreams
your absence obscuring my senses
when sunlight enters, I see
the bright light mocking me.
A voice always calling out to you
doesn’t matter it’s day or at night
Morning is meant to illuminate
not to succumb to dark.
Collecting souvenirs of wretched soul
my voice eventually chokes to death.
Like the stars…
You’re like the stars in the sky
I saw in my childhood
twinkling, smiling down at me
assuring me of a beautiful darkness.
That the places I choose to be
I’d be followed faithfully
with a poetic hope
whispering
that nights are
as influential as the light.
BLUE
When blue was vibrant
And the taste craved was white currant
Giant desires insisted
To go overboard and be a tyrant
“What’s in the diet?”, questioned heart
Outraged Mind, so prepared a chart.
“No cheat day, anymore stud”
Designs were made for your fat to shunt
“How about we clinch and come to an alignment”
Little did they know about the upcoming arrangement
“Let’s choose the day when sky chooses blue”
Since it was an era when heaven bore every hue.
So Mind agreed, no reasons to be defiant
One day in a VIBGYOR week, was the new alliance
No one knew, why sky took a tweak
Ever since that day, blue was there—every day, every week
Spend wisely
“How about 10 minutes?”
“200 breaths? Are you crazy? Don’t you know the new Respiratory Guidelines? No more than 50 breaths for a non-family member let alone an acquaintance.”
“But I thought you’d make an exception for me.”
“See, they are on constant vigil. It’s preposterous to challenge their audit.”
“Perhaps, this should come to light. What kind of law it is to calculate & limit the breaths/time for each relation. Doesn’t make any sense in 30th century. We aren’t in the same old world anymore”
“Exactly, buddy. Time is precious.”
Lost Love!
She: I am scared, baby.
He: Why is that?
She: Because I’ve lost you before actually losing you.