Tag: grief
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Time and providence
But all the while I sit and thinkOf times there were beforeI listen for returning feet And voices at the door ― J.R.R. Tolkien I often asked myself why I was here on a lonely planet, confined by time and providence, I watched people undergo spiritual metamorphoses, transforming into beings of the light — blue aureoles framing their […]
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Rain
Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet. – Roger Miller I’m sitting on my balcony in a pensive mood, the rain augmenting recollection that’s usually half-baked these days, nebulous like the swirling greys in a paperweight, I don’t have a pluviophile’s tranquility, all I have is an ache that longs to find […]
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Men of perdition
The clip found its way to YouTube, and my friends in college showed it to others on their phones as if it were a video of a back-heel nutmeg by Ronaldinho. I was guilty too, simply because I shared in the excitement. Many years later, it haunted me. He knelt, reading out something they’d forced […]
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For Alisha
Walking past these headstones, in this churchyard, I kneel, look back at the little Presbyterian prayer hall you used to frequent, pristine white, with blue-cushioned pews, its simple beige altar, grey steeple, little cross, and a miasma of nostalgia seems rise from the architecture, slowly creeping towards me, the twilight complementing it. I read your […]
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A rondeau for the ostracised
Find me outside the temple gates on littered streets Where beggars roam and hawkers sell their rancid meats Where lepers and malingerers don’t have a chance At ever swaying to the beat of Triumph’s dance Where you’ll find rickety, old huts with threadbare sheets. Here succubi know men, and the unclean beast eats Here thrones […]
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If life has meaning
If life has meaning, then do tell me what it is – Do whispers of distress become a din of ache Or do we wait in sorrow for unending bliss? I’ve walked beside these broken tracks, I’ve heard the hiss Of rusty trains. I’ve attended regret’s long wake If life has meaning, then do tell […]
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Coming home to you
I remember you composing music to the poems I wrote, infusing them with more emotion and turning red droplets to crimson stains of expression, you sat blissfully calm and while you drifted with time, your hands gracefully sliding across the piano, each quaver, crotchet and minim merging with my iambs, anapaests and trochees, I forgot […]
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Fade
When I met you, looked deep into those black, velvety eyes, I knew I’d found my muse, a Blue jay: ashen, muted grief, steel-blue quietude and a mosaic brilliance concealed except when you glided on wings of poetry, the Cherry Blossom tunnel I walked through all those years, stooped, no longer seemed dreary, and as […]