You

Do you know what I dream of?
I dream of watching your face,
In the wee hours of morning,
Your sweet beautiful face

I dream of your eyes,
How they flutter open,
Those soft dove browns,
I drown in their depths

I dream of your hair,
Wisps of them falling on your forehead,
I sweep them off your eyes,
They have entangled my heart

I dream of your illuminated skin,
Sun's rays streaming from the window,
Hitting your skin,
Our bodies sparkle in unison

I dream of your lips,
Slightly apart whispering sweet nothings,
I lean forward,
I kiss them

I dream of such days and nights,
Your face like the sun,
It sets and rise,
I dream of you,
And me,
And our entire lives.

The Whistler by Mary Oliver

“You can never know anyone as completely as you want. But that’s okay, love is better.” -Caroline Paul

When in love, we all ache to know everything about our object of affection, we wish to drown in their deepest sorrows and bask in their sunshiny smiles. Yet it is not possible to completely know the nearest and dearest to us. This poem by Mary Oliver is about the realization that how after three decades of living together, she still didn't know the love of her life completely. 

The Whistler

All of a sudden she began to whistle. By all of a sudden
I mean that for more than thirty years she had not
whistled. It was thrilling. At first I wondered, who was
in the house, what stranger? I was upstairs reading, and
she was downstairs. As from the throat of a wild and
cheerful bird, not caught but visiting, the sounds war-
bled and slid and doubled back and larked and soared.

Finally I said, Is that you? Is that you whistling? Yes, she
said. I used to whistle, a long time ago. Now I see I can
still whistle. And cadence after cadence she strolled
through the house, whistling.

I know her so well, I think. I thought. Elbow and ankle.
Mood and desire. Anguish and frolic. Anger too
And the devotions. And for all that, do we even begin
to know each other? Who is this I’ve been living with
for thirty years?

This clear, dark, lovely whistler?



Source- brainpickings.com

Violet

Startled, she stared at him with eyes wide,
Like saucers at the sudden turn of events,
In a second a monster unleashed,
From within what seemed like a space of calm wind,
Out came a shout, one so deafening,
Raising the hair on her arms,
As he raised a chair,
Almost ready to be hurled upon her,
She shut her eyes which reopened a few seconds later,
The choice of weapon was stuck in mid-air,
An angry, confused look on his face,
Slowly some sense kicked in,
With a look full of disgrace,
The shouts died down,
But her heartbeats did not,
Having finally witnessed the unimaginable,
'Violet, my child' his voice quivered,
Hands trembling at what had occurred,
Bursting into tears she ran out the house,
Into the embrace of her only mother, the nature...

Rant Machine

Life is like a shooting star, speeding beautifully but only to its ultimate death.

Disclaimer- This is going to be a depressing post about me ranting, whining and complaining and 100% guarantees to turn any mortal being into a self-loathing nihilistic, sad form of life (which pardon me, but aren't we already?)
Everyone believes in the power of positivity, on spreading happiness, sweet sounding things like those. But the most natural state of a being is grief. After a long time of seeking shelter in the bright side of things and then suddenly landing up in a state of complete despair and emptiness do you realize how fake  happiness or its counterparts really are.
Happiness does not ache our hearts, make our chests feel heavy with complete hollowness, it doesn't make us weak in the stomach desperately trying to digest the bitter truths and suffer the blows of daily life struggles, it does not mentally...fuck us up? Grief does. Man does not grow in the tender arms of love or we would've laid forever in our mother's arms. One has to face the battles of life, taste failures, and occasionally lie down in their bed at nights thinking of all the sacrifices they made to hold that light in the end of a long, dark tunnel only to realize that it is not there. Did someone take it away? Nah, it was never there to begin with- positivity and happiness just made that up for us.
People think that being sad is unnatural. It isn't. It is the purest forms of emotions which I feel should be felt just the way it is- the way sadness and loneliness can cut your insides with razorblades, scraping pieces of your skin, the feeling of your soul bleeding, it's amazing really. It makes you realize how much you can really endure while your heart just wants to bursts into flames any second, the inside of your brains keep twisting and give you a nasty migraine, you really wish you could take an axe and chop your head off your body because only a fool has the ability to always stay 'happy'. Someone in possession of a head tends to think, think and think and overthink about every bad thing ever which can have a tragic effect on their feeble mind and body. Next thing you know everything hurts so much. Whether it is the sound of the swirling fan above or the thunder outside, you feel like you're a part of everything and everything wants to attack you.

In the end it's you, you with your head which makes you feel bad about yourself and the world. You alone fighting this life, occasionally stopping to ask what is the bloody point? and then again succumbing to it, periods of slogging and moping followed again by a period of infinite sadness. A constant loop called life only to one day relieve you of itself.

Unconditional

These four walls woke up feeling incomplete,
Wee hours of morning saw you leave,
While I slept soundly,
Clutching on a 100 rupee note,
Tucked in by your beautiful hands,
That are as wrinkled as the surface of the untouched tea,
You keep in my desk every winter eve,
This house,
It has become silent,
With a face of dissapointment when I unlock the door,
It asks me where you've gone,
Prancing feet and loud phone calls,
Clattering of utensils in the kitchen,
Running bath and whispering chants,
And occasional painful groans,
It tells me you are its muse,
And that it misses you dearly!
Sweet love of mine,
I tell the house I share its pain,
My cold fingers once being kissed by you,
Now pick up your white strands of hair,
Never wanting to run out of them,
And I'd wait for next winter to come,
To see your tired pretty face again,
Sometimes complaining but mostly loving,
Loving with a love so unconditional,
It almost feels undeserving,
I wish I could lay the whole world in front of you,
Or turn back the time for you,
Or maybe just talk more on the phone when you're away!!,
But all I can do is wait for you

A lone wolf

Screeching owls atop these trees around me,
Casting a shadow,
Mine, lost among their intricate patterns,
I'm rushing through the forest,
Rustling of nature in my ears,
My quick feet flying,
Chasing my prey,
The bright, white moon,
Coming to a halt, I take a break,
Standing on the edge of a cliff now,
The stones tumbling down to the valley below,
Amidst the dead silence and a constant buzz of night flies,
I look up,
Eyes searching,
Sweeping across the painted sky,
But in vain,
I howl,
Calling out your name,
Where art thou my moon?
Shy or angry hiding behind the curtains of clouds?
I wouldn't know...
I have nothing left to say...
Helpless,
You are out of my reach,
All I can do now is whimper,
O' Darkness,
My companion,
Let's run beneath this sky devoid of starry light,
The moon of my life is unhappy tonight

Sweet Escape

Pour toi mon amour,
I write a sweet serenade,
For your ever honeyed words fall soft on my ears,
Human so gorgeous, a treat to the eyes,
Your creator I'd worship day and night,
Caught in this embrace of love,
Are embers in my heart,
Glowing and calm- like an undying love,
A strange yearning from the first day I laid my eyes,
Upon your two black marbled wonders,
Stare so soft, yet intense as a landslide,
The sound of your soul,
Like the broken, beautiful tune of an old piano,
Tugging on the strings of my spirits, Playing a melody- oh so familiar!,
And somewhere in heaven above,
Or maybe just inside my heretic heart,
Are dancing angels,
Chirping birds,
Bright auroras,
Such an ecstacy!!- tears falling down,
The entire being falling,
Falling in love with you...