not living in the present



when nebulous memories of the past lives
start gripping you
when you get to
foresee sporadic events of future
and they turn out to be true
you forget that
you have to live today too

in this jumble
of reality and clairvoyance nonesuch
you fear of being mocked as a mental
distance yourself from the others

you struggle with the self to be normal

you get to comprehend
the esoteric relation
between coincidence and fate
impermanence of mundane existence

you feel
it’s like water bubbles and ripples
forming in a muddy road
contaminated with spilled lubricating oil
and disappearing instantly
during a drizzle

your reflection on the bubbles
breaks loose and
gets swept away along with the ripples
only to form again
and repeat the cycle

though you complain of unfairness
you know that
what you feel or say goes in vain
because that’s the second fiddle’s fate

dude, what you know to do is
either dreaming or complaining only


i wish i could go back to the past
stop you from meeting me
that no moon night
to prevent the present miseries
that the filthy mouse inflicted on us
oh, blue butterfly!


i will fuck this fix one day
and rescue you
on the fifth phase of waxing moon

but when?

let me dream again

please don’t wake me up
for the time being
i am sleeping…

¤BlackBerry Poem¤


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