Take me

Take me from me
like you'd take 
a poem
and make it your own
with sighs and pauses
under your lukewarm breath

Take me on face value
like a promise
of bright springs 
and sunny mornings
of soft, slow, dry kisses
and of the less than ordinary things
that would make us 
a little more
than ordinary

Take me 
like an opinion
and read me between my silences
Contradict me, shape me
nurture me, mould me
grow on me
till 
I cease to be

To Life

Here's to sleeplessness
and to wide eyed dreams
and also to jobs not challenging enough
and to ennui of extremes

Here's to fucked up relationships
and all the shit they create
to dilemmas and deadlocks
and all the love and hate

Here's to adolescence
and its foolish expectations
and to growing up and letting go
and all its implications

Here's is to the only thing
with no hidden strings
to childhood and its rains
and its marvelous springs

That time of the year

Its that time of the year again . . .
The nights are starry and almost cold
and it is almost the season of love

Its that time of the year again . . .
when people take out their overcoats
and walk on the pavements we had walked.
Once.
With the stars brightening our eager souls
and our hearts fluttering in the breeze . . .

The city is almost dressed up again . . .
with yellow flowers and fragrances
and a few leaves are dying again
to be crushed by couples walking under trees
so that new love can be born . . .

Its that time of the year again . . .
when we had walked the stretches of the city
on foot and heart, and on hopefulness
when we had wished upon stars
and lit candles in old historical churches
for the unknowns and the uncertains . . .

Its that time of the year again . . .
and my heart breathes out
warm dreams that we had weaved
upon a broken star
that no one wished on . . .

I have a dream

I dream of writing songs. I dream of being in the company of musicians and write songs and watch them become music, watch them float in the air, in the sea, and in the pores of the soil and sand. I want my words to add, however infinitesimally small, a meaning, to sunshine and salt, to winter breeze and the taste of sea water. I dream not of a name, no, thats not what I want. I just want my words there, out there in the world, on their own, without my shadows, but with hidden bits and pieces of me, and all that I am, in a secret way. I dream of a day when the sun will shine through a window and someone like me, someone I've never met, in some place I've never been to, would recite a few of those words, with sighs and pauses, with the sun in his face, and gratefulness in his heart.

Divide by zero

Lets place our dreams in expressions
as a sum total of all unknowns
Let them scatter 
into bits of nothingness
And watch them be
infinite

Tonight.

Tonight, love me not
for the luster of my locks
or the softness of my eyes
Do not compare
to velvet, my voice
or to music, my laughter
Tonight,
take off my pretense
and watch me
naked with my sorrows
Kiss the disillusions on my eyelids
and touch on my trembling lips
the laments of a life
not entirely mine
Find in me the night
that has stagnated in some corner
as an endless wait
and the darkness that smells
of unfulfilled promises
and unfinished songs
Tonight,
drink from the cup
of my regrets
and soak in my solitude
Tonight, lets be solitary
together

Encore

Then, there'll be times when you'll be there. When you'd have done everything you wanted to do when you were ten years old, or twenty, or a few years younger. Then, there will be a moment of calm, an eerie silence, a void in the world of your dreams. Success can be scary. It will be scary. You'll be solitary, you'll be scrutinized and misinterpreted, you'll be loved by many, but not for who you really are. No matter whether you are a writer, an actor, a musician, a dancer, a painter, to the world you're just an entertainer. They wouldn't know where to stop asking you for an encore. There will be times when the noise of encore will transcend from the ears of the entertainer to the ears of the human being who craves for silence. There will be a blurring of the boundary between the entertainer and the person, the beauty that is created and the beauty that really is. You will not be expected to stop. You will not be forgiven failures. That is why you need to know not just your passions but yourself. That is why you need to realize that you are more than your passions, you are also your failures and disappointments. That is why you need to learn to forgive yourself.   That is why you need to learn to fail.