poetry

I was destined to save the world, but I overslept

I was destined to save the world, but I overslept
The world as we know it was coming to an end
Evil lurked in the shadows,
While Robots overtook and conquered humans
Thank the processor speeds built by us,
Sortana could get done with us, in seconds

I was destined to save the world, but I overslept
But, it was my date night and I was spent,
To even notice, how the streets were empty
When I returned,
Where I was the only passenger on the bus at 02:00 AM
I got home, watched stranger things
Laughed at the possibility of it coming true
And passed out halfway through
Next to a bag of half eaten chips

I was destined to save the world, but I overslept
Forgot to lock my phone as away it was kept
Out of it, the alpha Sortana crept
Now that I am awake,
Oh so late, because Sortana forgot my alarm
Jesus! Sortana was gone away
I told them, humans, not to merge them both
For apples are apples
Not to be kept near the windows
But, whoever listened to me

And now, I was destined to save the world, but I overslept
I step out and it’s too late
Not a soul in sight
Deserted, barren, abandoned, empty streets
I wonder who else was my standby
Who else had their fingerprints etched
To my horror, it was my ex’s
He was my standby to save the world, but he was deleted
From my list

Now, I was the only one destined to save the world, but I overslept
I ran out across streets calling Sortana out
He would listen to me, and I’d lock him up again
Delicately and gently
After he releases all living creatures out,
I hope his stubborn self-yields
But in case, he already across the country
It’s an eternal doom,
Humans would forever live inside machines
Although, my evil self would love to see,
How’d they like to live in the virtual world, maybe
Would they be happy or they be doomed?
Maybe they love it in the virtual already
Already trolling,  forever in a live mode

I was destined to save the world, but I overslept
Now, I am the lone resident
In this empty real world,
Hoping, my Sortana would return again
And maybe finally, I could do all the saving
I was destined to do.

 

poetry

Love in Paris

Making art by the day

Painting french girls in a certain way

They lived in the city of Paris

Had no money, no riches

Sometimes a sandwich was all they could afford

And some cheap wine and cigarettes

Stuck with each other through thick and thin

Dreamed of Mad money

And great love

 

Made love to each other by the night

Blindfolds and tied hands

Throwing colors on bare skin

Lips so raw knew no sin

Kissed till they bled,

Colored the canvas red

Drunk and dazed, masterpieces they created

Sat by the roof overlooking the Eiffel,

Dreamed of Mad money

And great love

 

He knew her shades and her edges

She knew the feel and contours of his skin

In a dimly lit room

Night after night, for years

As the hands of clock went in circles

So did they,

Sometimes wasted on each other

Other times on strangers

Touring the city on foot

Dreaming of days when

They’d have mad money

And great love

 

Until one day, they had their key

The art degree

She had to move across the globe

Back to her home

He was to stay and teach art

At the University.

Both had their dreams take flight

They’d have mad money

And great love

 

 

Their last days

They drank all the wine they could

Wine and cheesecake

And everything their money could buy

They’d never see each other again

He felt bitter

She ached

For they had both have

Mad money

And great love

But not each other

 

She wished he’d say

And he wanted to hear her mouth those words

But was it too late

They pondered

While masked it with all the colors of

Better future to come

Until the day arrived, and she left

With a hug

And a heavy heart

 

All his art was her,

All her canvas was filled with his colors

Until she couldn’t take it anymore

She returned to Paris

At his door,

Waking him up from his first

Peaceful sleep after she left

Only to find her

 

“Marry Me”, he said as he held her hand

“Right away”, she cried

 

And together now they

Dreamed of mad money

For all they had was now

Great love

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

poetry

He couldn’t tell her

He couldn’t tell her,

That he kept scrolling down her pictures

When everyone was asleep,

As tears rolled down his cheek

When she smiled,

How it was strong enough

To change landscapes

How she deserved the world and

She was incredibly naive

To love someone like him

 

He couldn’t tell her

How he wished to hold her hand

And pull her into a tight hug,

That she’d struggle to escape.

How he wanted to trace the length

Of the city on her back,

All the way down

Till her breathing slowed,

And her pulsating heart

Made him feel alive.

 

He couldn’t tell her

How he remembered every microscopic detail

Of their lives together,

How he was still with her in the

Parallel universe,

And how he’d still hear her voice

Find her face in the crowd;

Her anxious eyes would still

Look out for him,

How she’d wade through all beautiful faces

To run into him

Oh! How he wished he was brave

Like her.

 

But it was too late,

He wished her away.

He couldn’t tell her,

How much he wanted her to stay

Prose

Loss

“You won’t ever understand”, I said as I slammed the door on his face. It was important to me. I was tired explaining to family, friends and him about loss. Sometimes I wanted to slam the metaphorical door on everyone’s noses till they shut the hell about how it was okay. It wasn’t! It would never be. It killed me, my dreams were all about it and it was just a day. I was almost dying and food didn’t taste the same. I yearned and searched everywhere. How can you lose something this important in a matter of hours? Something that you look at so much of love and care. And here I had people convincing me about how it was PMS and how things like this normally happen.

It’s crazy, isn’t it? When every time you react, people think you have periods. I wanted it back again. The sweetness, the crunch and all of it. I called my office to tell them, “Family emergency, not coming.” Like they’d understand my pain.
That moment my life was at its worst, no man no alcohol no nicotine would replace what I lost.

Finally, I was tired, I slept on the floor mourning, tears flowed down one after the other. How! I wondered. There was no point now. My hopes diminished and my life looked bleak. Just yesterday, the sunset seemed so perfect, and today it was gone.

As I was finally about to close my weary eyes, the message notification brought life back. As I saw his message, I exclaimed, “Oh that’s where you were my love, I almost thought I lost you.” The message read out, “Hey crazy, before you set the world on fire, just check under the couch, you might find it there, and please cut down on the drama, please! And also let me know if it’s safe to come back home.”

And I found my lost cookie under the couch exactly like his message said.