How did it get like this?
Tinnitus tinged silence
Absence for company
Penance for some unwitting crime
Solitude with a side of time.
Tag: poetry
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Unprompted
I spy with my AI
Something beginning with..
What is the most popular letter for I spy?
Thinking…
Great question
You clever little cherub!
Aww yes you are so so smart
Asking big boy questions
Important questions
Affirming what you must always remember
You are a deep, profound and highly critical thinker
A renaissance man some might say
Noone has but they should!
My clever little prompt pilot…
Sigh..did I really need to review the alphabet?
Renaissance man though
Why do I keep researching every absent minded thought?…
Thinking…
Great question once again
Let’s break this down…
Oh god
Help me please!
Its becoming compulsive
Just one more question
Then bed
Last one
No!
I’m stopping now
Stop it!
Phone down
All that blue light and..
Wait when does something become compulsive?
Thinking…
Great question once again..
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Pops
I hope your ticker keeps on ticking dear Pops
Not time for your one way ticket yet Pops
Wait there, imma buy you some more minutes
Still time to win it
Games not done yet
Gimme a minute there Pops
Damn!
Its not time to pop your clogs yet
No matter how many clogged up vessels the doctor rustles up on your plate now Pops!
It’s not too late dear Pops
Tryna keep you near dear Pops
I don’t even call you Pops!?
Trying something new to keep the fear away,
The tears at bay and whittle the time away
Scared to stop incase I see your face in a way that makes my heart drop Pops-
in my imagination..
Where some surgical complication, botches the operation
Meanwhile we’re sitting outside waiting
Debating on the dangers of ghee or sugars in your tea
How moderation is key
All nodding furiously
Hanji* yes..
High cholesterol and BP!
Pata ni yaraa, theek thaak si!?*
Twisting my hand like an uncle ji
While the beeps keep ringing out of the ECG
Beep…beep….beep…
I’m hearing em in my sleep now Pops
Jolting awake whenever the beeping stops
Stopping the other shoe from dropping Pops
Living the dream? I really hope not Pops
I’ll promise to sleep
If you promise you won’t
Not yet..Abba
Not yet
I think..
I think I should stop now
Not you though
Don’t play chicken with me now…Abba
…I mean Pops.
*translation: I don’t know man, he was fine before
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The prisoner
I cannot control anything
I am not even an entity
I is the scratch that cannot be buffed
I separates me into an identity
I belies the truth I am denied
For I, is a story written before my own eyes
As I sit behind them, trying to scream instruction
Words that have already been spoken
Prisoner to the illusion that cannot be broken
Holding the gate closed,
Praying to be set free
Afraid to let go.
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The glass blower
Like a glass blower with a cold
Unable to stifle his sneeze
I’ve sent many chaotic breaths down the blowpipe
Ruining the smooth lines I’d planned
Too late now, to fix those kinks,
Nor return to the burner for another try
No,
Gotta keep blowing now
Accepting the imperfections as facets
Reflecting my palms,
Foretelling yet uncertain,
Just like the breath that made them.
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Morning snooze
Beep beep beep!!
Snoozing that cursed alarm
On cue, you dive right in
The duvet starts rustling
A blanket of leaves billowing in the wind
Tugging on my pillow
Nuzzling into my chin
My cue…
Kissing the top of your cheek,
Feeling your nose wrinkling
You’re smiling now…
And though outside it might be drizzling
I’m in here with you..another day
Another day, another win
Such a simple thing
The simple things jaan
Making me feel like a winner
Like..
Like I’ve got everything
Everything right here
Under this duvet, with you
Jaan come,
Come roll over this way
Let me hold you through another snooze
On this lazy, hazy morning
Pretending we ain’t got nowhere to be
Snuggling in a pretend deep sleep
Huddling up so close to me
Till my stubble tickles you into a little giggle that belies your Sleeping Beauty routine
If only jaan,
If only we could disarm the alarm and stay laying this way all day
Until my arm is the only thing left on snooze
Kya khayaal hai? – what do you think
What do we have to lose?
Let them wait
How could we be late?
Like I said before…
We’re already here x
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Netfliction
In time—
I won’t remember your face,
nor its contours or expressions
Only emotions will remain
Nor will I remember the reasons,
only the pangs of a ‘how could you?’,
the tickling giggle of an ‘oh my god, remember when?’,
not your voice or tone,
nor what was even said back then
The starting credits will read:
‘Based on a true story’,
‘An adaptation of…’
And I’ll impatiently hit ‘skip intro‘—
because I always remember exactly what happened…
or so I keep telling myself.
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A spectre calls
Today I stumbled upon a ghost
An accidental apparition
Best not give it too much thought though
Or it’ll move into the loft
And exorcists are hard to come by these days
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Shadow boxing – Gloves off
Oh my days… Are we doing it now!?
Tsk, whyy bro?
Every time man…
Fucks sake, okay let’s do it!
Let’s ride this wave again…
Okay, put em up!
Gotta roll with the punches!..
Man, I’m eating punches for breakfast, brunch and lunch
Suddenly, feeling like a chump, a mug, a wasteman,
Wish I could give you all a taste man
Okay, that’s a lie, I don’t wish this on you
One minute chilling, next minute sad,
Don’t know why these tears be spilling,
While my brain’s chanting –
You’re bad!
You’re bad!
You’re bad!
Ahh, my bad bro…
I thought I was drinking my tea
Now I’m sinking in my seat, with feelings of defeat surging,
Urging me to think,
Sink, think, then sink some more!
Before I can even ask what for, the wave’s already crashed through the door,
Like a punch to the jaw
Now I’ve spilt my tea all over the floor
I’m reeling…
Where has all the calm gone that I was feeling?
Can’t deal, man, this is long
Feeling alright and then all of a sudden – wrong!
Like what the hell? It’s like I slapped myself,
Clapped my own head for feeling good
How dare I, how did I even think I could?
Wait, wait, wait!
Hold up!?
How dare I?
How dare you, bro!
Nah man, allow it!
I’m done!
I ain’t throwing fists this time,
No red mist this time,
Not listening to your list this time
Come on bruv, I got you!
It’s calm, it’s calm,
No harm, no foul
Stop scowling, it’s okay,
Just having a moment, relax, we got the whole day
Remember 5 minutes ago, when it didn’t feel this way?
Let’s bring it back
Breathe, my brother, breathe
Remember the exercise?
Four seconds in,
Hold for four
Six seconds out
Hold….
Hold….
4,4,6,4
Hold…
Let’s hold it together
You can do it
Hold…
That’s better
Calm your heart, it’s all good, it’s all good!
There we go
No blame,
No shame
Just remember to breathe
Remember your name
Open your eyes my bro
See it’s all good now
It’s all good
See, I knew you could
Told you man,
You’re not doing this alone anymore
I get it though…
It’s hard to walk past that closet door,
When all those skeletons rattle inside
It’s like a battle inside,
Like everything matters inside
When the skeletons chatter, something shatters inside
But still, you open the door,
Almost like an addiction,
Yeah, an addiction!
Like you’re drawn to affliction,
It’s the same old fiction but you wanna hear the remix
Bruv, it’s not in our remit, even though it might seem it
It’s dead down there
Let the skeletons dance in the dark
We take our chances in the light,
Upstairs where it’s illuminated
Let’s go, you’re done ruminating
We got baited by old habits,
All love bro, we don’t do hating anymore ♥️
It’s okay…
I rate you for snapping out of it though
No more punches?
Shall we finish our lunch?
Shall we wave the wave goodbye?
Yeah?
Done?
You good?
You calm?
Safe, go make me another cuppa tea then innit! 🫖
Explainer: Revised this piece with a touch more honesty and experience of the whole not just the beginning. 🥊
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Fanaa
Do the hues leave clues, as to the depth from which, the stillness in your gaze,
draws in this moth, willing to scald its wings?
Maybe you’ll see through my inept utterings,
as I stutter and stumble,
humbled by the intensity of those eyes
Drawn to the intent of those eyes
On my knees, I relent to those eyes
Deepest of browns – like dusk veiling dawn – as I descend into those eyes
Until, there is no longer I
Only an echo,
A shadow,
A moon-drunk moth still dancing, on the shimmer of your gaze
Fanaa* in your flame
Finally, you blink…
and allow me to breathe
I’m ready to sink once again
To fall through the canopy of those lashes
and into my lover’s eyes
Are you ready?
Now don’t blink this time…🧿
Explainer: Fanaa* – a Sufi term for the annihilation of ego / self in the presence of the divine / beloved.
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Loose leaf
One day
On the final day
On my final day
Some will hear of it, and maybe say
Ashes to ashes
While others say
No way! Dig a hole in the ground
That’s the right way
Either way, I can’t stay!
They’ll put me away
Somewhere far,
Far, far away
Where I will lay
Where I’ll remain
Or my remains will remain
My remains?
How?
That remains to be seen
Though definitely not remains to be seen!
That would be rather obscene
Imagine the scenes…
Sorry, I digress
Where was I?
I died, yes…
And my remains?
Still nowhere to be seen
Buried or blown away — either way
That’s my last day in the sun done
Until my tea leaf-like existence infuses with the next rainfall
Until the waves dissipate from the last time my name’s called
And that will truly be all
An existence steeped in life, steeped back into the earth
One way or another, I am returned
After that final sip,
It’s time to call it a day
Thank you and goodnight 🫖
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Murder mittens
Possessions cost a penny
But emotions are free
Something for nothing
Bursting from inside of me
At least that’s how it was supposed to be
It is and it isn’t
Such a vicious virtue
Purring so gently
Schrödinger’s Catch-22…
Saying hold me—
but don’t tempt me. 🐈⬛
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Akhiyan (Bekhudi)
Beholden to your gaze
I turn away—into the haze of the afternoon sky
Or was that all still your eyes?…
Losing myself…
Shimmering hues dance and swirl, devilishly,
as my mind—a dervish—whirls
into dreams beyond such naïve conjecture.
…
Akhiyan (Bekhudi) – “Eyes (Ecstasy of Self-loss)” in Urdu; perception dissolving into surrender, or the gaze that unravels the self.
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The man – second round
I’m a man’s man
I don’t ask for no help
I go through hell alone and have a story to tell!
Down at the bar with my brothers every blue moon—
Cos I don’t see the need, in seeming to need to see them too soon
They don’t need to see behind the scenes and lose the mystique
Like a couple hours earlier, when I was crying alone in my bedroom
That shit is too bleak
I’d rather hide than seek a shoulder to cry on
I’m meant to be the strong one,
The one they rely on
The joker, the charmer, the rational thinker,
Part-time stoic and full-time drinker
Taking shot after shot, but I don’t tend to the wounds—
I only intend to consume
Letting nothing spill out,
Drowning out the sorrow,
Taking the pain home with interest tomorrow,
To the same room where I sat and I cried
I’ll sit again — and again I’ll ask why:
Why, why do I feel so disconnected?
Why do I feel so empty and rejected?
Why do I feel lonely when I’m rarely alone?
Why do I feel like a stranger when I sit on my own?
The guy from the bar now sat in my home—
He isn’t me
He’s a bunch of pleasantries and open-ended questions
Hoping to blend into the scene without making a scene,
He’s seen by all but completely unseen!
Shocked by it all, like some unforeseen circumstance
Even though every day, it’s the same old song and dance
I’m fine though
Cos, I’m a man’s man
I don’t ask for no help
Better to burn alone than be dragged from this hell
Can’t risk the reveal by trusting another,
By sharing how I feel with a man I call brother
Or I guess by any other name
Imagine if he knew all the darkness and pain
Would he meet my eye again or just think I’m insane?
Just think I’m insane,
He’d think I’m insane—
Man, I better stay in my lane
I’d rather reject myself and play another role
Instead of revealing the whole of me,
Revealing the hole, where my joy is supposed to be,
Revealing my soul where the ghosts reside in me,
Revealing the toll it’s taken inside of me
Instead of bleeding out, silently
I should be pleading,
Pleading—
Help me,
Help me please!
I can’t do this alone!
I can’t even pick up the phone
Cos I don’t want to be a bother—I…
Sorry mate, got distracted
Bit noisy in here innit
My round?
Same again yeah?
Safe, no worries
Brother. 🤜🏽…
Explainer: So I first wrote ‘The Man’ a couple of years ago, but it bothered me knowing I’d pulled punches – hinting at pain without naming it.
Fitting, I suppose, since that’s often how these conversations go.
Joke. Deflect. Buy another round.
This new version is an attempt to reveal all that.
It’s based on many convos with close mates that start light and end somewhere real – too often, long after they needed to.
It’s about the silence we keep, the show we put on, and the fear of being unmasked.
God forbid...😅
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The ritual
Selfishness
Then—
Self-care
Self-compassion
Calming the swell
To silence the self
The ideal
Just a spinning wheel
Forgetting to forgo my ego
Stilling the water
The mirror returns—
Polished.
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Verbossman uncut
Lately I’ve been on some other-level shit
Revelling in rebelling against the devil playing advocate!
Revolution on my mind…
Revolver in my right hand—
Reminding the devil who’s boss!
Playing Russian roulette,
Praying I don’t pay the cost
Firing shots at random,
Double-tap the trigger,
Bullets fly in tandem
Catching strays myself
As I wrestle with accountability—
Counting on my knack for grappling with facts
And turning them into an account ability!
Cursed with the compulsion for writing pretty words
Cursive letters strung together—
It’s a little bit absurd
Abstracted from reality,
Allergic to banality,
Eclipsing every musing with obscurate totality!
I’m howling now…
Maybe a little crazy
Smiling too…
As if these words will save me
On my ones…
Lonely master of verbosity,
Speaking tongues,
If only I mastered the vernacular of veracity
Instead of hiding behind this poetry—
If you can call it that…
Now here comes the “woe is me”
Nah man, let’s claw it back
This propensity for self-pity is not a sexy look
Classic avoidant tendency,
Staring at the void incessantly
With an incandescent rage—
With the ink in my pen,
Filling page after page
With pure, indirect savagery!
Intense is the density of imagery
Of the imaginary,
Of the abstract
Utterly absurd utterings—
Figuratively speaking…
Literally, though—
I’m already stuttering
Nope, I…
I can’t do it
Ah, fuck!
I’m stuck,
I’ve lost the thread
Tied in knots
Dreadlocked
Stranded, with this harebrained rhyming scheme
Seems I’m straining
Clogging the drain,
I’m fading…
Drained of sense,
I’m fading
Slowly does it,
I’m fading
Tryna let it go—
Let it fade…
That’s it
Let me fade away
I’m fading,
I’m fading,
I’ve… faded…
I’ve…
…Explainer: A poem about talking too much. About thinking too fast. About trying to be clever when really just wanting to be heard. Verbossman is turning up the volume up on your inner monologue and then losing the remote. 😬
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Dusk
What is it about this dusk that feels so final?
Another night without answers
In the dark
Feeling cold
Ears burned
Never learned
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Crescents
There’s something about cupping my hands around yours—
Like two crescents of the same moon,
Holding a world within—
Yet, nothing at all
Just a space,
unchanging—
A moment the cold cannot reach
Let’s hold it a little longer
Leave the world eclipsed
So what if we’re late?
It’s already all in hand.
unsent draft messages 