Night Vision

We were merely two wolves
Carrying embankments in our howling chests
Falling for our moons, in reflections of disturbed ponds
Acquaintances we were, of parallel woods
Not much thought spared
Other than the occasional, the customary
We were merely two wolves
Streaking through the wilderness
Within and without
Barely touching borders
Barely touching
Each other
And now nights roll out, carpets of moss to tread on
I hear you, I hear us
Soft padded thuds, footsteps or simply what we feel?
We howl, not echoing each other
For we let out the sorrows clawing our subdued eyes
Can I rest my tired head against your shoulder?
Guarding these walls has drained me
The reminders ache in the form of thorns embedded
Underfoot
Trespasser
Can I rest my head against yours?
It’s a quiet place of peace
Where our borders merge
A silent breathing space of no-meaning
Yet as we breathe us in, I wonder
When did darkness become a silhouette
Of warmth?

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Joe

We may or may not be the closest friends can be
But your words
Often trigger the mechanism of my poetry
Into action
So silently, that I’m baffled
At how pieces of acknowledgement, expression and more
Could tiptoe out of the hull of this heart
And onto mediums
Which sail it across oceans yawning in between
A cradle of affection lulling thoughts, emotions, and experiences
As we head on towards differently hued sunrays
Braving futures and streets paved with stained glass and moonbeams
Our dreams orbiting focal points of sunrises
We’ll watch, crossing deserts in search of forts from forgotten lore
Down valleys hidden in the folds of Himalayas
And temple ruins you’re so eager to run your hands along the stones of
We met through words and through words we have grown
I could only thank constellations
For a soul like you
That I’ve known

Until We Meet Again

What you have given me
Is beyond any words I could ever pen
Its value like the polluted air I breathe
Purifying for a few days
And me learning the meaning
Of breathing clean air
The basic human occurrences everyone’s subjected to
And I was bereft from
What you have given me is more mother’s milk to my infant soul
Crawling its way to civilizations now old enough to crumble
Your coming and going have shone lights to the depths
Rusting away in oceanic murk
You being the one presenting me with these times
Is as unexpected as a tsunami on a planet without a moon
Our attachment has grown
Mine towards you that I did not think was strong enough
But you’re leaving
And you’re leaving me transformed
With a structure that used to shudder at the prospect of embraces
With eyes that have now learned how to lock gazes
My structure aches for the warmth you’ve buried in my heart
Until we meet next time, my friend
As long as we meet next time
Till we hadn’t, however
I had not known
It would have been fine too
To spend our lives unmet
But now we have and I cannot go back
To have known friendship is alien enough
But to have experienced it outside the confines of distance
Is a universe light years away entirely
And to not experience it again
Would coffin me from heartache
So until we meet again
Thank you with the thousand hearts you reminded me I possess
With the thousand embraces
That could not come close to embracing you for the first time
Under the eastern coast’s afternoon sun
Until we meet again, my friend
Until we meet again
For times a thousand and one

Broken

A fellowship fell apart in a few instances
Misconception entered creating distances
We won’t be together ever again
Our hopes were overruled by pain
Unexpected revelations wound their way
Through our anticipations, and we say
“Why the betrayal, the truth you hid
Why the contemptuous pretense acrid”
Of your demeanor nothing we could discern
You apathetically disregarded our concern
Such was the tremor of your disclosure
We stood stunned against the harsh exposure
Hurt deeply, unable to breathe, we stared undeterred
As predicted you walked away, again, as you preferred
The chalice uphelding our friendship’s now broken
A shard of its thin glass of trust is the only remaining token

_______

Just another poem on another real event that took place and shook me from inside.

 

— Praty

Clever – not

Skipping down the creek

We decide to play hide and seek

Everyone goes hides and I sneak

Across the water, into the forest bleak

 

These were forbidden woods, but hey

Why should I believe everything the adults say?

They said something lives here, hunting for prey

Unhindered, I thought, why waste such a nice day?

 

Around the edges, behind a boulder I hid

Peeking at others, chuckling to myself at what I did

Clever, wasn’t I? I gleefully think, clever kid

At my hiding place none of them would bid

 

After sundown, it would be as dark as a coal

I wish they’d at least look across at this hidden soul!

Are they going home? Won’t they seek me, winning the goal?

Then none of it mattered; when I heard the most ravenous growl

My friends and I – set in the future

Mr. Tom Ato Damm, 75, strolled across the mansion towards the stupid woman’s art studio, she who happened to be his bratty little sister who was 70, stroking his Siamese cat and scowling he entered the studio unannounced (HE BROKE THE GOLDEN RULE, SHE’LL BE MAD, NO ONE DISTURBS THAT BATSHIT CRAZY ARTIST), to find her rummaging around some paint supplies. He was about to speak when another of his bazillion cats followed in, purring and rubbing against its master’s ankles, disturbing his rage. He started again, “Do you even –“, and was interrupted by Ms. Pratty Bell’s irritated “Not now, cat-woman.”

“Not now? Yes, now!”

She spun around, and seemed to be furious as well, “Now? FINE.”

Then they simultaneously yelled at each other the same sentence but with a slight difference

“THERE’S PAINT EVERYWHERE”

“THERE’S FUR EVERYWHERE”

… And the bickering started.

“PAINT-“

“FUR-“

“EVERYWHERE”

“ALL OVER MY STUDIO”

“RUINED FURNITURE”

“CHEWED MY CANVAS”
They were silenced when another loud voice sprang in, from the library, “WILL YOU TWO SHUT THE FUDGE UP.”

It wasn’t a question. Mr. Joseph Fish Saba, 70, old friend, housemate.

Pratty: “BUT JOE HIS CATS-“

Damm: “MY CATS?! YOUR PAINT-“

Joe: “SHUT. THE. FUDGE. UP.”

Pratty: …

Damm: …

Joe: “That’s better. I’m trying to remove the fur and paint from my books. […indistinct grumble…]”

Damm and Bell look at each other – burst out laughing.

Joe: I HEARD THAT.

_________

So, Joe and Dadda (Damm) read this poem , and that triggered a “I don’t want to be that lonely when I’m old” discussion. I said  when we’re super old we should buy a big house and live together. This is the very scenario that popped into my mind the moment I uttered that. 😀

And I mixed our names with our nicknames, heh.

 

— Pratty