The Show

A remarkable performance.
with ups and downs,
downs and ups,
wee, wee, woo!
The audience applauds, the actors bow, and oh do they bow,
for what a show!
wee, woo, woo!

Everyone began leaving the scene: the audience, the performers,
But no,
not I.
I sat in my seat and clapped, clapped and clapped to my own audience.
That’s right!
You should have seen it,
I had stolen the show,
here I come!
Wee, wee, woosh!

And I would stand in my magnificence to cheers, and I would bow myself.
But when it was all over, I found yet again,
that there was only me.
And there were no woo’s, no wee’s, just me.
And I laughed at my fears, and they laughed at me.
For I was not content to die, for whom it seemed to be, as: me.


I remember when there was time.
That was different,
and I wasn’t caught with this feeling,
that everything was just collapsing.

I was standing among the ruins
as you
looked so sweetly at me.
It was a moment all for myself, the delight in your eyes, the smile on your lips, the sweet smell of lilacs about the air, and me, in shambles, about the ruins that were my home.

I turned my back to you and knelt in the ruins,
And when I turned around you were gone,
I couldn’t believe it.
There was no where to go to, so I assumed you would be back.

I waited.
Stood about.
Killing time.

And as my efforts became trivial,
I too felt a sense of calm,
of being,
of wishing,
of knowing that there will be a time, when I will be gone too,
and all was for nothing.

Rest Easy

I pleased myself a day of relaxation and all I found were thoughts of a troubled day. I heard calls of work piling upon each other, begging me to rescind them of their duties. And I would pace about my room and relax, yes relax, lie down, relax. Relax to the demands of time and its timer incessantly clicking, tick tock, gone. And all I felt was an inner tension, a guilt to be spending anymore time on my sea of relaxation. So I stood once more, and walked over to the window, to the quiet shorelines that gleam and bounce its incandescent rays of light peacefully to me -the peace I so desperately sought- and then, only then, did I turn to my work: dying.

Ready for Tomorrow

I stumbled upon a path and found myself staring at a sign,
As I read its description, of the two different paths I could take, I found myself standing, contemplating, and mulling over the possibilities of each path.
What would each bring me?
And so I stood there and thought.
Others passed me as I waited, choosing their paths with utmost confidence, without a moment’s hesitation and perhaps with more reckless haste and decisiveness than I could garner.
Ill-fated for me, the sun began to set and I had yet to reach a conclusion,
I would find myself sitting upon the gravel with the starry sky above me instead of a warm home,
And I felt the coldness of reality, and it was good: so I savored it.

Today is Familiar

You feel a restlessness about it all,
And it dawns upon you every time that perhaps things are not so different,
The ups and downs,
It seems as if they have all amounted to the same trends,
Predictable and humorous in its movements, you silently observe,

There doesn’t seem to be an end to it, just constant movement,
Ultimately leading to the same place every time.
It is futile to wish for anything else,
So you wait for it all to finally reach the end,
Independent of your will.