What remains is your love

 I know you are gone.

Gone, never to return!

But I am here,

living, breathing, surviving 

I am lucky to have him still,

Him and him and him. (Husband, Brother and Father)

These men are now my paulbearers.

Paulbearers of what's left of my soul and heart.

They will help me carry on,

until the next one falls.

Hopefully, by then, I'll be over grief. 

Grief and Death, will not be a shock anymore.

I am numb to shock.

Numb to this pain. 

I know, it is possible.

You are gone,

but what remains is your love.

Your love is in me.

I grew up, happy and secure.

I can adult because of love.

Thank you for being a loving person.

I never realised, your greatest gift was 

Your Love to me!

Grief!

 I am not scared of dying,

of Death per say.

The trauma leading to it scares me.

But I know, I'll be ok.

I started bit of Yoga now.

To keep my body alive and well.

To make Death easier as well.

Grief has taken a new form, Mother

I miss you everyday but tears don't bother.

Sometimes, it hits me,

how you suddenly disappeared in front of my eyes.

How I don't hear your voice or laughter

or don't see the twinkle in your eyes.

And now the tears come, Mother

I still miss you.

But there is no emptiness in my heart anymore.

I just have the Death ripper looming around me

constantly reminding me,

that it is coming

Any moment, anyone can be gone.

To hold what is dear even tighter.

Some days I am at peace with you gone.

You won't see more horrors of the living,

of people dying everyday.

Before they truly die one day.

My Father

 I barely talk to you

'Cause, we don't chat much anyway.

I don't see your love in words and long conversations.

But now, that mum is gone, I see it

I see your love in how you take care of the little things

How you make sure, everything is spick and span

How the clothes are ironed right

or the water is filled

or there is milk in the fridge.

I see how you take care of the little things around the house.

You were always the caring horse,

that loved through actions

but could never talk

The one that was born with a stunted mouth

I miss my childhood family unit

I miss being a child

I love you, Dad

And Sorry, we could never talk. 

This love was never meant to be the regular way. 

I want to think about Death

 I want to think about Death.

Almost all the time,

a constant reminder that

it is lurking around the corner.

Waiting to show itself when

it feels fit. 

I want to think about Death.

In times, when I feel greedy,

In times, when I laugh

Every morning,

is a constant reminder of Death.

Of my Mum gone

And many others that die everyday. 

It hits different on some days.

Today, I am nauseous.

Yesterday, I was disgusted with myself. 

Thought of Death, hits different everyday.

Don't look Forward to

I don't look forward to

Those morning sunrises anymore. 

Each day ahead, is a day less with you. 

I dread going back home, Dad

'Cause that's far for you. 

But my Life is there, 

With him beside me. 

I don't look forward to

Those morning sunrises anymore. 

'Cause I dread what turn your Health will take, Love.

I'm scared to count the possible sunrises with you. 

I want to sleep beside you forever and ever.

A small place

 Deep saffron hued-beauty appears suddenly in the sky.

As my eyes look at the Moon,

a gentle breeze envelops me.

Quiet. So quiet all around me.

A dim hum of the cars roaring in the city I see,

in front of me.

The dazzling lights are so far,

yet in my sight.

I see the quietness of the hills nearby and the mountains afar.

And the dazzling city lights in my sight. 

No love for big cities anymore,

I love the smallness of a place.

The hills and the sea,

the quietness where I hear a kid cry,

or the cars roar from afar.

No love for Mumbai or London anymore.

Don't take me to Amsterdam anymore.

Give me the smallness of a place.

Belfast, you changed me!

Perfect Storm

Nothing is working out, 

Everything is fine

The world is going fine

But nothing is working out. 

The surface is calm

And I'm strong

But nothing is right

It's a perfect storm.

Waiting for the wheels to move,

To kick me out of this storm.

Calm me down,

Don't let the perfect storm ruin me.

A room full of strangers

A room full of strangers,

that it was meant to be. 

A room full of strangers,

I knew but didn't see.

Known and unknown, 

merged together,

Like two buttered toasts.

Spoken and unspoken,

Words didn't matter.

It's a room full of strangers, 

With 50 shades of black.

Nothing hurts, nothing left to see.

Night is getting dark and off I must be 

Because it is a room full of strangers 

And there is nothing more to see. 

Child

You say a child was better,

The adult is not yours to be.

Well ofcourse father, 

Why will he?

A child can't speak nor protest.

Meekly agrees to everything said.

Ofcourse a child is better,

A pliable, blendable playdoh.

With nothing to know,

Nothing to see.

But for your eyes and your words

Taken to heed.

Ofcourse a child is better, 

Sunset and sunrise begin with you

For he doesn't know any other.

Life begins at 40, 

For a child is not to be.

The powerful hand

 

You shall be remembered as the King.

Die with a Pyramid to guard you,

to be remembered for centuries.

There lived a cruel King,

a man of unimaginable wealth

Gold gilded castle with its Baroque magnificent door.

A lone man and his robot hand,

the invention of a rich man

to fight his enemies off

or scare the innocent into pliancy. 

I shall turn to ashes to dust to ashes

but rest in peace forever shall I,

for you will be exhumed one day,

like the cursed Tutankhamun.

Escape

War has given me the escape

Escape from my dreary self.

Escape from this life

Dystopian novelty wrecks the brain.

Built broken castles of a wreckage.

Of a future unknown but dark,

Dark as the fear we feel today.

Fear of the black smoke and

Guns and machines.

Of air raids and the third war.

Of lost innocence and smile,

A child was born,

Five weeks old.

Cried for life,

Shrieked for comfort.

Was silenced and put to rest.

A child born into freedom,

Was chained to the shackles of death.

Spit on you,

The world is closing in.

Your paranoia is the reality now.

No end to this road,

Jump off the cliff or surrender.

You shall fade away,

Forgotten in the annals of history.

As we fight for the last breath of freedom,

Of fearless living and dominance.

You took the smile away,

You shall fade away.

Dance of Death

Enjoy the dance of death

While the world morbidly watches

The black cloud rise up.

The smoke, the wind will

Take it to the West.

Entering our lungs, this black cloud

Shall be our death.

The curtain is ferrous and red,

And we shall all enjoy the dance of death.

It's inching closer to you,

Oh sickle and hammer.

U shall be painted red,

The world will finally watch,

Your dance of death.

You drive the SUV full throttle,

Till the end of the road.

Without a care, you shall meet your end.

As the blood drops on the Black sea

The tide shall rise and you will drown in it

The world shall watch

Your dance of death.

And the Swan will swim again,

Peacefully in their Lake.

For you will be long gone,

In black smoke.

Oh sickle and hammer,

Shall be buried dead.

Dance of the snowflakes

 The dance of the snowflakes

Quietly kissing the ground

whirling around,

in their white ballroom gown.

The spotlight is on them,

burning bright up the sky

white as snow as true to the eyes.

Reflecting pearls of the white light

is it telling me something?

the dance of the snowflakes,

turning and turning around.

Heart

You beat so hard,

I struggle to breathe

I can't tame you

Or calm you down!

Stillness is what I seek at night

A soothing rhythm,

Thump! And Bump!

Like a beating drum.

I seek to calm you,

To slow your pace

And prolong your sound.

One day you will give up,

I know.

Like millions have forgone their soul.

The thumping and beating stops

And darkness engulfs.

We must sleep then

As our body rests deep within,

The earth this heart used to beat!

my summer day

Wish it could be a summer day,

Wish I could fly to my summer today.

The beach and the stones by the Pier,

My pal and I enjoying a sip of the evening cheer.

Wish I could fly to my summer today.

A bright sunny day and a long night ahead,

I seek solace in the morning Sun,

by the Brighton Pier.

I miss chasing the rays,

Wish to walk by the Pier.

Where is my summer Sun?

Wish I could fly to my summer today.

Waiting for the Light

Waiting for the days to get longer,

As I walk by them, I can only smile

with my eyes.

Sinister as is this time 

No festive spirit can kindle my heart warm,

I miss the embrace

The good old wine.

Waiting for the days to get brighter,

Hoping for some sunshine in my world.

A shot of life is what I'm waiting for.

Shot to my freedom from this cage.

Waiting for the warm Sun

 and hugs from her, my gentle soul

My guardian angel miles away from here.

Hope the Sun shines on her, makes her spirit smile.

It's been a long time since I've smiled,

It's getting dark and cold.

The fireplace has no fuel to kindle my spirit up.

Waiting for the Light to enter this world.

Too precious to me

These moments are too precious to me.
Each moment I spend with you
Is magic to me.
The places and people,
Your laughter and thrill
Is infectious to me.
I cry lest these moments are gone,
Forever trapped in my memories.
This life with you is
Too precious to me.

Like pearls in a necklace,
Each moment and laughter
Is dear to me.
It holds my life,
My being together.
This is what
binds you and me.

Each year,
I look forward to.
I know it brings in
new experiences for me.
Our love today is deep,
Deep like the oceans we see.
The emotions run
Deep within me.

These moments,
This life with you is
Too precious to me.

Darkness

Cold, cold my feet,
A chill runs down my body.
I see misty fog around me,
A path unclear still.

Flap my wings, I
paddle my feet
As hard as can I.
Head feels heavy now,
I see no light ahead of me.

Darkness has its days,
There is so much to do
In the rainy haze.
Hope keeps me afloat,
Lest I spiral out of control.

Vacuum fills the air,
Voice is lost.
Words are all that care,
Words that shine like tiny diamonds
On my charcoal slate.

Words stay with me, through
my darkness and shine.
A humble blanket of warmth for me,
My words will shine.

Museum

Timelines are hazy,
the place a melting pot.
No land, no borders,
No cultural barriers.
Everything is merged here.

The space holds it all.

But what about its own identity?

The Brutalist and the Egyptian inspired.
They hold it all,
finding a new identity,
in a new place.

A new name hiding the old concrete,
the glass enclosing all.

(Immersive writing inside Ulster Museum, Belfast, UK)

Vivaldi's Spring

Off she goes,
taking quick strides along the river.
Look, there she goes,
crossing over that bridge.
Hopping and skipping,
Spruced up in her red hat.

The little miss Red Riding Hood
is off to meet her granny.
But there is someone watching her.
Cautious she must be,
her life is in danger.

The crafty fox
flips through the woods.

Granny is lying still in bed.
Eyes wide open.
Rigor mortis it is.
A long, peaceful sleep.

Miss Red is helpless and alone.
The fidgety fox is closeby.

I see a shining blade of steel,
suddenly leaping from the door.
His shining armour is strong.
The fox scowls and writhes in pain.

There is red everywhere and
it is peace again.