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TheUnco
u/TheUnco
Every Wilting
Is a tale
That told itself over and over
Till no one heard it anymore
And that is perhaps
How some stories die—
When there’s no ear
Tides take them away
To the void of memories
Where
Shells of presumptions unrealised
And silences dipped in solitude
Are made.
“Is that a loss?”
The wilting, you ask
Unspoken vows are made
To those living in tales
and to those living in anecdotes
That over a cup of tea in the evening
Or over a train ride with face fathomable
Stories will be emulated
For that’s the only place
The people in there
And that time spent
Stays alive
Despite Wilting.
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To be crazy to write
You truly become one
With the purpose to write
And write
Every emotion
That escapes the Vessel of your mind
While you drink
While you shit
While you shiver to death
While you do anything
And everything
Write.
Not all
Some of it might
Shake the world
That
That hope
Amidst drowning despair
And soaring sadness
Is
To be crazy to write
Does it work?
Know not I
Asylums Madhouses rot
(With those who sought elysiums
And have,
In perceptions owned)
With people who became
One
While History
Applauds some after death
For their entirety
For their madness
And I
I walk on that thin line
Between
Con
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94
I lost myself once
Wandered into the woods
Untouched
Unharmed
Serene and calm
In the meadow
Watched the sun fadeaway
And moon take the stage
The emptiness, the peace
In the alleyways of my poetry then
I lost myself twice
Feigning metaphors were none existed
Weighing expectations
With paper clips that would but unfurl
I heard raven with the melancholy
Where there were but illusions
On loop like the playlist I found ‘our’ song in
I lost myself thrice
Within elusive inhibitions and emaciated thoughts
When I let it slip
The void?
Is meant for nobody but me
A figment of time still resides afresh
In the grave I dug
Elegantly sonder . I would’ve lost
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Laila-Majnu, Romeo-Juliet, Orpheus-Eurydice,
Moon probably saw them all wane before he did,
In their realities, unmoved,
Betrothed as a timeless witness among the stars,
To them, their loves,
Only to see lovers’ misery,
In truth, not wanting it at all,
The blood to his name,
He still stands though, faithfully,
Immortalised, by nuances and clichés he didn’t want,
And even if he did,
He wouldn’t lilt,
Just for the sake of it, his purpose;
To revolve, and be, just Moon.
14
I know you’ll be there tomorrow
Whole
I’ll still be here
An emaciated half
.
You’ll laugh, with your anecdotes now curated for them
I’ll still be here, masquerading your memory with a smile
My poker face, you said, was a giveaway
But it’s getting better
.
Your fingers will hold the golden china and spoon
Mine will tingle, just as they imagine yours
Entangled
.
I know you’ll be there tomorrow,
In my thoughts.
I’ll be here, hollow
Like I was the one in love after our one night stand
Of whispers and naked vulnerabilities
Like I was the one, still lying
In our bed of hugs and shared jokes
While you buttoned your shirt
Of smiles and fac
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// I stand in the sky, comfortably still
.
I see a wooden frame; a window
With a touch of eery familiar
Inside it, absolute dark
I reach out with my arm
To the frame, and the glass vanishes
Slowly, I dip my hand into the frame
My hand crawls on the wall like a spider
On it, I find a switch
Instinctively I press it down
The spotlight shines
Inside, darkness deafened
I recall the frame
Just as my view lights up
It’s my room
And I see myself
Some four feet tall with that army cut
One which I never liked
.
I see myself smiling naively
Staring at the screen
With my beyblade still in my hand
I remember the day now
It was the day I got it
And lost it too
“Hold tight!” I
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The Unco,
Uncouth,
Or remarkable?
Probably, I’m hiding,
In grey,
I see,
Like a stranger;
An “Unco,”
Stealing,
Your stories,
Your pain,
Living them,
Just enough,
To make them mine,
Irrespective,
Of the part it consumes,
Of me, from me,
Because art stems from pain,
They say.
Too addicted,
In pursuit,
Losing myself,
To a void,
Piece by piece,
Bit by bit,
For your approval,
Of your stories,
Without you realising,
It’s yours,
Your tears,
Your blood,
Your glory,
Your pain.
It’s all yours,
I’m just a thief,
Uncouth,
Not remarkable,
Sometimes a stranger.
I am, I am.
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And I descend,
Checkered steps,
Checkered walls,
I see no end,
Checkered steps,
Checkered walls,
And gloom.
The rail, almost inviting,
And thought;
Erupting,
What if I jumped?
Would it pain,
Or would I just spiral,
Into the abyss,
Eternally,
With nothing but,
Checkered steps,
Checkered walls,
And gloom.
The lights;
They tempt me,
The monotone white,
Enveloping ages,
The sheer of black,
Better, seductive,
Transcending; time itself.
And I fall,
I fly,
Faster,
Leaving forever,
Checkered steps,
Checkered walls,
And gloom. ——————
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Let’s lay underneath the stars,
You and I,
Leave the fears behind,
As we have our shoes unbind.
//
Let’s scrutinise the sky,
Find patterns, see the skinny love fly,
Trace your hands over mine,
From the silhouettes,
See the stars realign,
And just be,
Devoid of any fret, any dread,
Like no yesterday, and every tomorrow.
Let’s lay underneath the stars,
You and I.
..........
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Somewhere, deep down,
All of us, ticking,
With timers unknown,
Just waiting to explode,
For some, it’s just,
Weight on shoulders that’s getting unbearable,
Others, suffocating with their scarlet lies,
And the truth, they can no longer face,
Unbeknownst, most, who are longing,
To be heard,
To bare it all for once,
To be told;
“Hey, chin up princess!
It’s okay,
You lied, you cried
But,
No one gets to define you but you”
.......
(2) https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/isdiva/the_relationship_
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