The unlikely ones: Time
I’ve never liked watches: Those illusory attempts at time control. We can see the sands of time slip through our fingers for a while but we can never hold time in our hands. We just have to let go of… Continue Reading
English
It ain’t whatcha write, It’s the way atcha write it.” – Jack Kerouac
The unlikely ones: Hopeless
It was hopeless. He needed to stop every time he heard a bandoneon being played. He was hopeless but so was she. She held a charm over dogs. Every time she passed by a dog, it would inevitably follow her… Continue Reading
Loca-poem
Passionate as a misfired bullet, You aim at me but never hit, you have no target, but you lit the whole place on fire. Then you see through your own eyes, though there’s nothing else to see, this… Continue Reading
The unlikely ones: Higher class
“Where the fuck are they?” he grumbled while he opened all the drawers of his living room desk. He would absentmindedly leave his keys on the first place he found and therefore he needed to look for them in odd… Continue Reading
The unlikely ones: He tried but failed
Tragedy rarely comes unannounced but it flows to our heart in small sporadic doses. We always try to arbitrarily attribute the quality of tragic to a single event, such as a Tsunami or a Holocaust, but even these events are… Continue Reading
Windowsill- poem
When this is all over, and your eyes become nondescript blue, and your name something that started with some letter, I’ll still remember windowsill, call me weird. When your face is filled with generic features to make up for time… Continue Reading
The unlikely ones: The evil hour
You can’t get inspiration from sadness; it’s not possible. Your actual inspiration comes from the hope of joy that this sadness triggers. And joy is easier to achieve when you’re sad than when you’re in a limbo of satisfaction. The… Continue Reading
The conquest- poem
First came Columbus, asking for Indians, “I don’t have any,” I said, “but would you like some Arawak instead?” and he just left, thanking me for the Indians. Then you came and baptized me with your name: Amerigo, you killed… Continue Reading
Joy -poem
You came irreverently, unannounced, asking me who the fuck I am, and I digged it so much that I made you mine stealthily, but simply, as an egg is broken, as the stars shine, though they’ve burned out. You came… Continue Reading
The unlikely ones: The autistic poet and the unwilling belle
He asked her to come in. She’d walked all the way to his flat under the rain and the wind had broken her umbrella half way through. Her name was Melisa. She’d seen Brian perform an impromptu poem in a… Continue Reading