The ‘4:20 Somewhere’ Rarity!

See… I’ll tell you the difference
You are a straight white line
You’re a single snort away from poofing.
While I run in the circles made of infinity
I’m a never ending rarity
No number of pots will ever be enough
To build what’s broken.
I took the morphine with me
When I left from that door,
Your ‘4:20 Somewhere’ rots in my closet

In Sickness, In Health, & In Pandemic

What if we thought of it as the childhood abstinence?

Or like we know our sacred space, the one we save for the most sacred of an instance?

Cease from travel, from healing, touch or talk

Cease from the known, learning anew even a mere walk

On the orders from the unknown, less liked, the pseudo optimists

Even if so, it has to be alright!

Give up, just for now, on trying to make the world different than it is.

Make a call, sing, write, read, or even maybe pray,

Be selfish, touch only yourself, for life’s sake, please stay

And when your body has become still, reach out with your heart

Understand that I and you will be here, in one way or the other, not apart

We have done things to the planet, both terrifying and beautiful,

The actions have had a reaction, finally, please don’t try to deny

The world doesn’t need your hands, save them for later, sigh!

Maybe your heart, your vibe, your words,

spread your shoots of compassion, invisibly, not your touch

Write your vows for the idea of a better tomorrow

Save your home from the collapse, with your love, my heart

for better or for worse, in sickness and in health,

& maybe in a pandemic, ‘until death do us part’.

Hey, 15 years old me!

It’s been 15 years to the 15 years old me

It’s been 15 years since I was an ignorant but innocent little brat

If I could I would pen each day of your life little one,

I would tell you how brave you are & will be

You will fight battles that may kill some, you will conquer dreams rare have

You will animate a full life, question anything & everything

You will set examples, & remorse nothing

You’re a warrior, you’ll make and break your life, one day at a time

There will be choices, incessantly impulsive, you won’t repent, not one

You will embrace every tailored royal mess,

So be the ignorant but innocent little brat you are

For life holds hurricanes for you, & you’re a warrior

You will & always will be the fabricator of

All your happily ever afters!

Longing Little Dove!

Longing is not how it used to be
When fantasies are no longer how they used to be
In their place are superfluous memories
Of a life that was far from exemplary
Looking back now only makes it gloomy
Mourning a life that you wished for with the makeshift roomie
The sleepless nights of wanting those keep you awake
No, it’s not work, oh c’mon, for god sake
The one that you remember, yes, the erstwhile
Serve only as a reminder of when life was worthwhile
Longing is not how it used to be
So, little dove, try harder, maybe with a glee
It was a paradox, that didn’t come with a slip of guarantee 

The Gold Flame!

It’s been years today to the first time we bro hugged,
First time since we sat across tables freezing and bugged,
First time since I noticed the color of your eyes,
First time since I stole a sigh,
First time since you switched places on the road,
First time since we shared the dense smoke,
First time since our jittery first nudge,
First time since the Italian was a waste buck,
First time since I decided on my cure,
First time since all firsts pure,
Here we are, today, in many of our firsts,
Like the gold flames, at a pinnacle!

The Closure!

The closure
I think comes to you in a million ways,
Sometimes in ways of the world falling apart
And sometimes with a chance to put it all back together,
There will be baggage, of-course,
But then you’ve aced the art of solo travel darling,
Remind yourself of all the fiercer bulls you have leashed
& shoo this little pup away,
Remember,

You’re not the La La Land,
You’re the Oscar for it!

Supernova!

We have run from clubs to beaches and back,
Drinking poisons from bottles,
Jumping into seasons of deep seas in our clothes,
And making out on the rocks through thunders,
Made promises over wildfires high fiving thunders,
To never make sense,
To hope the odds are in our favor,
And I fell in the supernova of the moment,
Oh the blast,
And the following curl of smoky whirlwind will last forever!

Grandma’s Abode!

There are lives I have lived,
There are lives I haven’t.
There are hopes I have abandoned,
There are dreams I have forgotten,
I’m no superhuman,
Nor do I intend to be,
Like a humming bird
I fly back and forth,
I relive hopes and dreams,
They fear no death,
For none shall have one,
Like grandma’s abode,
We meet each burning fall,
With a promise!

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