I do not mean to

​I do not mean to pry, my dear,
But soothe this bitter longing
For reasons I can justify
And muse the songs I’m dawning

I do not mean to cry, my dear
But choose your answers wisely.
For I am brittle in your gaze
And end the night in sighing

In mornings I’m abiding
So passions will start weaning
Which currently are beaming
As slight teardrops, they are streaming

I do not mean to lie, my dear
But how can I confess…
The topic of my mind is you-
Praying,
To love you less.

dinner

nascent beginnings
adjacent living
complacent sitting there,
imagining if you are eating dinner
and why i can’t be the spoon
or the napkin
watching over you-

why am i not
placed across you
surveying your face
every time you look down
for another bite of food-

no,
i cannot think like this
creepily drown myself
in obsessive thoughts like these.

ridiculous in their size and creed,
fantasising how
you feed yourself-

i have barely seen you exist.

but then i still concern for your
5-a-day
and whether you’ve had enough greens
today,
the way you take your coffee or tea
maybe two sugars or black,
or milky…

oh,
romantic child,

you are useless.

just in case

In case I die
These are all the words
that I want to say to you,
but I won’t because
it’s not the right time.

When it is the right time,
I want you to read them
and remember how much
Just one person thought of you
In this life that I have lived,
And it has been
a beautiful one:

I love you.

I love you with the greatest compassion.
I look at you and think of the million moments shared,
Eating
Laughing
Watching movies that made our hearts twist and turn,
Lying in bed
Dreaming
Thinking of the future
Reflecting on the past
And how thankful I am
To have been a part of your journey
Developing slowly
All the struggles and discoveries

I look at you and recall
Every wonderful moment
Every painful pang
Every mundane and exciting time
That allows me to reminisce
That allows me to confess
How lucky I am to have met you
All of you
Everyone I have seen
And hugged
To become
a part of my heart.

I have tried to remind those close to me
How precious they are
And I will tell them time after time…
You are loved.

How you are loved!

How I love you
Exceeds the limits,
Is boundless as the sky we gaze into
During the loneliest nights
And the exhausting mornings –
Surpassing perception
So that it may only be an intangible amount
Because it is immeasurable by the literal.

Unimaginable,
Regardless of all the gifts
All the shoulders to cry on
All the food cooked
And all the clothes I’ve put on you
To keep you fed and warm.

All of the gatherings
Where the only mission was to pass the hours together

All the reunions
Whether the gaps are hours or years
Whether the distance is a few miles or thousands

All the lovely eyes that I’ve peered into and felt safety and empathy,
Kinship and friendship
Romance and adoration
Coated by the affection
I hope I have adequately given.

I don’t want to leave this world without having said what needs to be said,
and so I’ll say it now.

Just in case.

Just in case
I perish suddenly
Without warning
Like how they die in the movies
And leave everyone at a loss.

I have loved all of you
With all the love I have been gifted
And all the love I have ever known.

So even when I am gone,
I live on inside of you,
Keeping you strong
Even if you think you’re wrong.

These words are cliche,
Because love can be quite simple,
There is no complicated mechanism
That needs to be made.

But I will dedicate my whole life
As a romantic gesture to you all
And hope that makes
you blush in awe

Never letting you forget-

You are loved!
You are loved!
You are loved!

Poem of the Day: With only one life by Marin Sorescu

Hold with both hands
The tray of every day
And pass in turn
Along this counter.

There is enough sun
For everybody.
There is enough sky,
And there is moon enough.

The earth gives off the smell
Of luck, of happiness, of glory,
Which tickles your nostrils
Temptingly.

So don’t be miserly,
Live after your heart.
The prices are derisory.

For instance, with only one life
You can acquire
The most beautiful woman,
Plus a biscuit.

[Trans. Joana Russell-Gebbett and D.J. Enright]

cinnamon swirl

I love to swipe the crispy flakes of leftover pastry
in the steel trays of Sainsbury’s bakery section.

It’s not a sin,
or is it?

Isn’t it?
Psh!
It’s harmless!

They would have thrown them away
anyways, into the putrid food waste bag,
alongside a load of unopened packets
which lie discarded, rejected, reduced,
and perfectly edible,
but awfully illegal to give
to the starving mouths in this city
and on these streets
for some reason.

Some friends of mine fish out these remains
to save some expense from their always shrinking pockets
and their always worrying conscience.

Last they told me,
in utter lament-

“They locked the bins.”

Access to their trash.
Our treasure.

because you are there

my love,
my love,
my thoughts are eager children
wanting to tell you
about their recent discoveries,
whether playful or tame,
wanting to indulge you with
pointless games

just to look up to you
and smile
for nothing other
than a plain and innocent reason-

because you are there,
and you care.

cut me open

the pain
in your unwilling honesty
inspires me
to cut open my own veins
and share with you
the warmth of my own sorrow

so you may taste
the fire
in my blood
and see
how the flame
will come back