Oh, the quandary!

All this thinking.
This relentless reasoning
And persistent pondering
Leads nowhere.
Not now.

The wonted adjustments
And clinging to the familiar.
The dreams of new
And varied days.
They don’t meet.

A thousand words
Walk down every alley.
As i holler songs about
Being young & me.
They don’t rhyme.

The wishing well,
The magic mirror,
The cryptic crystals,
Doze negligently.

Perhaps the planning
Is destructive.
Perhaps days are meant
To be lived as unorganized
As our pasts in the attic.

Beginnings are like that.
Lost & found.
Gainful & compromising.
Dull & thrilling.

Someday, these cobwebs
Will elicit laughter.
But tonight,
Everything’s a pickle.

– Meera

Advertisements

Fury

Like a paper-plane
Let the wind whisk it away.
Like a sand castle
Let the tides wash it away.
The fury that is growing
Inside of you.

It does no good
To keep it pent up
This rage that threatens to
Drown you.

A noose around your neck
A sword over your head
Embracing this beast
Never ends well.

Held back from your
True potential. Your anger
Misguides you. Conquering,
Transforming, from the inside out.

If it’s so easy
To acknowledge the cons
Why must it be so strenuous
To look past its conniving web?

– Mia