Out in The Numbness

The rain says so many forbidden words
synchronising with every bit of fear
that she is unable to express
The infrequent sound falls on
a shaky ground built on anxious thoughts
trying to keep up with the rhythm
like catching reality in a chaotic mind
She wonders why the winter rain feels so dry

shallow focus photography of rain on the window
Photo by Dhyamis Kleber on Pexels.com

Quiet Time

This weekend has been planned out to be a busy one with cooking, travelling and loads people contact. However with some magic shuffle, I ended up with a window of quiet evening. I attempted to finish reading a book I was half way through but couldn’t pick it up. Then I attempted to write a poem or two and felt uninspired. The next thing was watching a movie on Netflix but nothing looked interesting. There was a sense of unsettling for me. I felt I needed to sit with my feelings to untangle them. So I sat and played music softly in the background.

I am always grateful for what music gives me when I am exhausted with giving or run out of inspiration. Besides the nature, music is my second go to place for quiet time. I feel that through music, I am able to relate my own feelings to the artist. It is more like the artist reaches me through their music and lyrics. They help me identify my own feelings and emotions. Then what was trapped in my head has an outlet to express. For me, it is usually through writing.

Sitting with my own feelings is never an easy thing to do. With music though, I feel I have a guide and I am never alone.

Funny Mood

Today
I feel blah
It is one of those days
that repeats itself
without any
remorse

This hour
I feel nothing
It is one of those states
that appears intermittently
without any
warning

This time
I say something
It is one of those outpours
that shocks me
without any
reservation

By now
you must wonder
what I have said
Without any
delay
let me tell you
I said
blah blah blah

Social Contemplation

A collaboration with Benjamin Grossman

In rainy March
I long for a
philosophical whisper over tea
The smell of possibility permeating
Your gaze an infusion of heaven
Barely we know where we are
Yet we know where we’re going
With some echo of curiosity
On a bed of uncertainty
I inhale your essence
Drink in your presence
Only we temper the inner warmth
Steeped in each other
Rain is threading through each whisper
Tea left unrequited and cold
In the company of drizzling rain