To the Sellout seeking Peace.

Back then

A sandpit was your oasis

A dirt road, your wild west

An old tire, your 4 by 4 you would use to  cross the world

And you cherished the world at its simplest

Now

You have your swanky holidays

And a brand new demeanor

Peripheral plans with the boys and your brand new toys

While you scramble for still more

Yes you’ve bought your dream-come-true

But really,

You’ve sold (out on) the dream

then lit a match and flicked it to

The one person always rooting for your every win

And yet

Yet today you ponder

Over the source of this reminiscent agony

And yet

Yet

You still wonder

Why does peace keep eluding your company.

Act by act. flick by flick. House to ash. Watch it sink.

-pictor quod scriptor

The solution that begets a problem.

She gently pushed open the door, peering into the Dark.

"I can't see you," she whispered.

(She couldn't remember why you took away her Light, and left her there, faltering.)

"You promised I'd find you here."

(She didn't know you were afraid.)

The door shut quietly behind her.

And you were the one left alone.

If your morning starts with me.

From the Backwaters of Pamban Beach, Rameshwaram

If you ever wake up to the morning's hush
 with a lump in your throat
or
me on your mind..
You should know that its just me calling out your name
or just wishing you really really hard.

The Watchful Eye

I can feel you still out there. 

And I am still waiting. 

The things that become everyday

 

I do it. You do it too.

You bear the impossible.

each day after the next,

till it almost feels normal.

and then you wonder,

Maybe it never was normal.

Maybe this is normal.

 

 

But is it?