Experiential Distance

Even before a thought leaves my mind
with its open arms
out to grab your mind
and in it, settle

Carrying little of itself
but most of me.

I am supposed to use words
I am supposed to touch
Sing, sometimes.

That is all that i can do to close
Our experiential distance

You will recognize
from how i speak
the words i say
the way my lips quiver
and eyes close
what i mean.

I want you to be my experience
Feel my pulse as i feel my pulse
As a cadential gesture of unison.

But between us there is this huge
valley full of words
That were spoken, that were almost spoken
That are yet to be spoken, That are implicitly spoken
That are translated

Between your experience and mine
My very act of love is a translation.

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

unfeeling

i remember the day i realized advertising had poisoned everything that i knew the memetic microplastic of my time and decided to stop feeling emotions to stop being touched from one minute of people meeting at airports the garish climaxes of love and loss and then when my friends left a rube goldberg machine of going away and i decided to stop feeling emotions to stop being touched by departures at the chaotic trampoline made of weak elastics of relationships and then the day that i realized what i read in books is lies and decided to stop feeling emotions to stop being touched by characters that haven't existed in entirely made up worlds like a fever nightmare when you wake up with your stomach pitted like a peach or an avocado and then the day i realized how inexpensive it is to feel and to cry and decided to stop feeling emotions or getting attached to my own sorrow which spread occupying my whole sky every time i looked up and the day i realized every choice ...

Sometimes serious

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