Archive for May 13, 2017


Hardly a Poem




Splinters embedded under my skin,

each memory a shard of stinging glass,

I see that I see it all now,

the infinite regrets meandering,

down foggy alleys of yesteryear,

as decades and moments come to pass.



Wearing my many masks as I cascade,

leafing through my conscious betrayals,

of gentle hearts once treasured,

now left to decay, in the empty cold.



Seeing my treasures turned to stone,

while wearing the blues like a convenient coat,

untrue to most, I stand accused,

in the dock, the fragments of my past,

are all that I am able to hold.



Where do I go from here,

as I stand ashamed, rooted to this spot,

my sins are countless, my excuses fickle,

the lies have been many,

and all the untruths have already been told.



Was it not just a fortnight ago,

when I was younger than I am now,

you loved me completely, you told me so,

while I slithered inside my thick skin,

shutting you out,

and embraced comforting desolation into my fold.



Now the momentary tears have all been shed,

the wounds of time too, have silently bled,

and all beseeching prayers have been said.



I stagger on, my reflection a mirage,

my heart and soul battered black and blue,

still, grasping onto the tendrils of hope,


if not, then I am truly dead.






you had a dream, of pastures of peace,

where children of all hues mingled like rainbows.




they silenced you, but your voice

resounds now,

in pastures not yet of peace,


your dream still a dream,

a dream dreamt as others slept.




you said that you had been to the mountain-top,

and they silenced your voice as you saw that promised land,

of pastures of peace,

where children of all hues mingle like rainbows.




today your dream is glimpsed in pastures,

not yet of peace,

for though they silenced your voice,

your spirit!

your spirit their bullets could never tear apart,

your spirit, like your dream,

mingling in the winds in all those pastures,


not yet of peace.




and till we give life to your dream,

those pastures of peace, where children of all hues mingle like rainbows,

shall remain only your dream.




we remember you today,

pledging that those pastures of peace

are nourished,

in each of us,


for only then will your dream take root,

blossoming into our common, shared dream,

the view from the mountain-top,

for then, your dream radiant and bright and full of hope shall seem,


where children of all hues mingle like rainbows.









%d bloggers like this: