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Remembrance

Does it help that some of us are lost together? 
When what we look for doesn't exist in the same place, 
And no other validation would do, to reassure?

When we know the beating of the heart that we desire to hear
And the warmth that we desire to seek.
And the caress that would excuse the darkness in our act
Which would forgive the bleakest desperation of our soul
Doesn't exist in the world anymore

And we must live a lie, and build up a castle. 
A showplace for our personalities full of glittering smiles.
And turn inwards to that image for reassurance
Till we get thrown back into the night in the desert

Where our naked desperation breathes the cold air
And shrinks, and feeds on no love to live by
Finding others as lost as you
As depraved as the soul has become after seeing all these years
of never having been home
And never having had a tinge of an idea validated.

Maybe if a significant amount of time passes
There will be a surge in the heart again.
Until that happens, 
There is just waiting
In remembrance.

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लाल वस्तू

महाराजबागेतल्या गुंजेच्या झाडाखाली आईबरोबर बसून घालवलेल्या संध्याकाळी गुंजेचा पाला खाताना गुंजा वेचून, गोळा करून, घरी आणून सजवताना तशाच लाल गुंजांसारखे मखमली किडे पाळताना, त्यांना पावसाळ्यात पकडताना त्यांचा पाला गोळा करताना त्यांना लाजून गुर्फटताना बघताना, आईला दाखवताना मला थोडेच माहिति होते की हे अनुभव, आणि ह्या आठवणी कधी अशृ होतील आणि लाल शर्ट घालून त्या पावसाळ्याची आज तहान भागवावी लागेल

angry

my grandmother used to spot in us a hereditary anger the chest learning to well up blood learning to leap and breath learning to crawl foreheads burning with heat of little children the attempt of anger to become disgusting raging energy that will occupy every living stream. nobody wants to hold an angry person rage drunk, getting bigger and bigger until other people are invisible like ants and you can dissolve them in your hot blood and things around you break and shatter at this point she would hold. a violent hand shaking her away Ya I remember my grandmother used to spot it in us as children already And hold our hand "until you get over your rage I will not let go of your hand"  hold VERY TIGHTLY "I will not leave your hand until you learn how you should calm down" i would fail despite that gesture  to understand what was happening and i could not receive love at that time because i have so much anger But the act she is doing is still that of HOLDING
“ this is the age of rampant computing and of quantitative mania and of  search algorithms running on GPUs looking for a person shaped piece missing dead perhaps? but with a digital trace. leave it to the hypertext of imagination ”