Blissful Sonnet

Suck the marrow out of life

Implores Dead Poet’s Society

So leave me now, strife

I don’t need your loyalty

 

To be a ‘Yes, Man!’

Like that crazy Jim Carrey

Good-bye, then, plan!

It will work out, maybe

 

La vita e bella

The Italians say so

Thus, smile, young fella

To worries, let go

 

What a happy day!

YOLO away!

Cold

I can’t feel my fingers

All I see is white

It’s been a year since the sky exploded with ice

They warned

We didn’t listen

Then everything went downhill

 

I can’t feel my fingers

All I see is white

The world was gripped with terror

Chaos

Nobody knew what to do

Then everything went downhill

 

I can’t feel my fingers

All I see is white

People died

Animals died

Plants died

The earth died

Then everything went downhill

 

I can’t feel my fingers

All I see is white

I’m alone

I don’t know if others survived

God, I’m hungry!

Everything’s going downhill

 

I can’t feel my fingers

All I see is white

Excruciatingly starving

Looking at my hands

Drooling

Everything’s gone downhill

*Inspired by the movie, Snowpiercer and Stephen King’s short story, Survivor Type.

Stage

The audience roars, and cheers, and applauds,

And even gives a standing ovation

I bask in that sweet glory of success

For I gave life to a character,

Bared my heart and soul,

Performed my best despite imperfection

I shudder at acrid moments

Of voice cracking,

And forgotten lines,

And messed up blocking

But the show must go on as they always do

The tension and drama behind the scenes

The divas being divas

The rehearsal blues

You practice, and practice, and practice some more

All spicing up the total experience

Music swelling

Spotlight dimming

Curtains closing

Head to the exit

Bittersweet goodbye

The Recluse

Solitude is his constant companion

Minding his own business

Absorbed in peaceful reverie

The wall a quiet witness

 

Though living with others

They barely speak

The roommate is but a ghost

Companionship is bleak

 

Completely independent

Alone but not lonely

Yet on some days he wonders

Is he being a phony?

 

For some kind of connection

He seeks for other souls

But they all rush along

Chasing futile goals

 

And so he went back to himself

It’s better this way

He might be on his own

And that’s okay

Mona Lisa

I see you smiling in the silence

Is it a secret?

A sinful delight you can’t disclose

Or an elegant demise

Of inner demons?

The memory of you

Paints a separate peace

Peace that separates you within

And I forever will swim in your enigma

Wanderlust

Colors, smells, tastes – intoxicating

Expose me to the bowels of the unfamiliar

Let me embrace the nuances of the peculiar

 

My itching feet are waiting

Bring me to places yet unseen

To the wild and the serene

 

As I get lost in the moment

In an instant’s lingering scent

I commune with people and nature

And is hypnotized by its allure

I pay homage to its revelations

Of life’s reverberations

Metanoia

I shout, I declared it’s the end

Of the world; no more time to mend

What we destroyed using

Our own hands, refusing

To change; this fate can we transcend?

Skin Deep

Bright billboards and all these glossy magazines are plastered with gods and goddesses, beauty radiating. Mortals such as I can do nothing but gawk at such perfection. But is it real? Or is it merely an enchantment brought about by Photoshop and make-up? This we know and yet we long for that face, that body, that color. Because we want to be praised, to be admired, to be worshiped, to be beautiful. Or just to be accepted.

Precious

Turning ceaselessly like tossing waves so restless

Incomprehensible as universe itself

Measured in moments you dared to share

Encompassing your love for me

Soulless

Staring at the screen
Eyes glazed over like zombies
Social media slaves