Me the living

Me – the living

Writing for myself

Of rivers and sunset

Don’t have to worry about my skill set

Or how the lines don’t mesh

with what people expect.

No likes , no comments , no shares

No feedback to feed my ego back

No more second hand living

It might actually be thrilling

To discover why I really write

All over again

Writing for an audience since tenth grade

Reader is my default

Writing not.

Somewhere along the way

Eyeballs glazed my edge

Was always a cat on the fence

Now filled with trepidation to jump in any direction

I offer platitudes and bromides

In shiny gleaming proses

Posing as something else

Content should always trump form

But then reality always bites on the backside

I can close my eyes and write a poem now

No challenge anymore

I need to push myself outside these boundaries

Do something different

Or something simple

Don’t care about the fancy words I use

Or the number of lines which might bore or please you

I NEED to write for myself and for that

This is the First Step.

Silver Linings

Silver Linings

One good day , One Bad day

Arthritic steps

slowly crunching on  

Best time for silver linings

Is when you are blindfolded

Trace them through your heart

Holding its shattered pieces in place

The hand which holds your hair

When you are unloading your stomach out

And which holds your hand

When you are unloading your heart out.

The voice which might be on a virtual screen

Million miles away

An emoji in the end

 which wipes that tear away.

One good day , One bad day

A spring in my step

Steadily marching on.

Nesting

Hi guys! I am finally done with my five year law course. While academically it is a big relief , personally it is taking time to readjust from one home to another. So I start this new innings with a supposed to be simple poem about the same. More inventive stuff for later.

What is the word Bittersweet supposed to even mean?

When you like Bitter more than sweet

I ain’t no Ayn Rand but

I do know when things get out of hand.

The streets of joyous past invite me in my sleep

It is all too real now

Once it isn’t tangible anymore.

I run and run inevitably into the white light

Only to wake up sweating underneath the not so noisy fan

All the pent up teardrops

Have made me moist from inside.

Even removing the corn from my foot

Feels like saying bye to an old friend.

It isn’t all doom and gloom

There is hope in the horizons still

Life just got a whole lot more interesting

I could be anything I want

Yet I can’t

It is the whole balancing act

That adulting is all about

I feel like Peter Parker with his superpowers

Fighting the infinity war

Hope I don’t disintegrate into thin air!

The new has become old and the old new

There is no such thing as status quo

Just a new list of never ending woes.

I twirl my hair more

To tangle it like my feels

And make decisions myself

Without sharing it immediately to my friends..

Feels wrong yet right?

An Exciting time to be alive!

Am I right?!

( I have used more rhyming words to incorporate my pre college style and ?! to show my state of mind. This is Part 1 Of my poem series on Adulting)