Language Barrier

i’ll carve our names on a tree bark

with long-twig runes of elder futhark.

dead language, ancient sweethearts

and no one would know it was us.

unless someone appeared out of the blue,

figuring out what to do

with those markings made blissfully,

decoding how we weren’t meant to be

and antiquity shall lay eyes on me

for our love is not too prominent to see.

⠀⠀⠀

i think we are hiding behind metaphors

when there is no reason for,

and neither one of us is good at hyperbole

when our hearts talk, it’s just a folly.

but we can speak with eloquence,

shower ourselves with big words

until to the point, we would not understand,

“why does this language sounded dead to me?”

maybe your shallow feelings can’t be freed

and mine, perhaps, was stuck in that tree.

⠀⠀⠀

still, i keep a library of what you would say,

composed of poetic remarks and terms of gold

i would want to collect and decode

every witty expression or sentence,

but it’s tough to comprehend.

all the time, i knew his phrases,

i’m just a dead language translator

going through phases.

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To Make a Human

the cauldron fizzled and the steam arose,

blisters, weighing like thin air, began to float.

i gathered up ingredients to soon meld a being,

it will become a grand masterpiece!

⠀⠀⠀

for touches of shy and sweet spices,

sprinkle crystal-like sugar from sugar canes,

during the season of harvesting.

too much and a frenetic gets jumpy.

⠀⠀⠀

for the heart’s warmth and empathy,

collect ashes- residues from the fireplace,

during the hours of a frigid twilight.

too much and the wrath will ablaze.

⠀⠀⠀

for the sagacious mind to contemplate,

pile up milky strands of hair from hoary men

who immersed themselves with words.

too much and a cynic be bald.

⠀⠀⠀

for the humour and jests to laugh upon,

bottle up bubbly chuckles from other humans

during a comedic feast or a carnival show.

too much and malice becomes their satire.

⠀⠀⠀

i mingled all elements with a wooden spoon,

sang dulcet melodies for extra seasoning.

my mixture imploded with varied hues

composed of goodies to be fused.

⠀⠀⠀

but all became flawed with a tiny mistake,

a thread of my hair- my flaws and weaknesses,

fell to the amalgam, a new colour formed,

i was in tears until a human was born.

⠀⠀⠀

he emerged and his faint grin was first to be seen.

i threw away all thoughts of being a failure,

and realised, he too, is a fallible human.

then, a smile painted widely on my face,

“Perfect.”

⠀⠀⠀
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One Swallow Doesn’t Make a Summer

the love i once scattered on you,

were like rustling leaves

swaying to the rhythm of the wind.

together with autumn’s hues,

from pumpkin spice

to nutshells and acorns,

those are colours to warm you,

and your soft blue lips of ice

from last year’s winter feast,

when snowflakes were born.
⠀⠀⠀

the love you once pecked on me

was like air being taken away,

not in awe, nor amazed.

and the leaves in autumn

were maliciously stepped upon,

and crackling noises were heard,

but it’s probably from my heart.

and autumn’s hues

meant nothing to you

because your lips were never blue,

yet snowflakes covered you.

no warmth, but frosty bites,

and your heart was stiff as ice.
⠀⠀⠀

and when the snow starts to melt,

and the leaves decomposed,

i shall leave you all alone.

a welcome inside oblivion’s home

might help to warm my soul.

but in thoughts, you still appear,

and sometimes, it goes to the other ear.

i may not forget you right now

because love froze into a thick winter ice,

but slowly, it will melt each day.

and one day, i’ll be the autumn tree

who shakes every leaf away.

i know i’ll be empty.

but summer’s here and i’ll blossom.

and you will see the golden me.

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Nature Abhors a Vacuum

i am, to be ensnared by pieces of agony,

like an animal caged, and the rage is within me

the buried yelp arise but fades into silence,

and the craggy path I stepped upon has no ends.

the key to release me has been stolen,

the outside portrays the crumbled and the fallen.
⠀⠀⠀

all is left are the barriers, what a tragedy.

i could jam myself in the rooftop cranny,

but the triumph of gravity has let me down.

of wearing human skin, i’m no bird around.

to glide freely cost a batch of feathers.

only if i catch the essence of the weather,

i can soar back to the welkin yonder,

but i am left here to wander and ponder.
⠀⠀⠀

a bed of lilacs for a cosy home,

my eyes were desperate to see them alone.

yet thorns from fiends are only to be seen.

but the crack with the sun rising to beam

is my only hope to keep a sense of me.

wherever happens to my own glee,

is still out there, surrounding the air,

collided with woes, i bother not to care.

but every time i breathe, slowly, i decay.

everyday, i am a goner, why am i here to stay?
⠀⠀⠀

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Know Where All the Bodies Are Buried

she has plucked eyes from a young child.

naive, but the imagination is growing wild.

she has stolen the mind of an old man.

slowly withering, but wisdom is her friend.
⠀⠀⠀

she has a mimicked mouth of a public speaker.

talks more, and the words meant something deeper.

she has duplicated ears of a private listener.

talks less, puts down the mirror, and it wouldn’t be her.
⠀⠀⠀

she has chopped off hands from an artist.

creative, but putting the emotions at risk.

she has the decapitated head of a writer.

put it in the clouds, it will make her mightier.
⠀⠀⠀

she has the misplaced heart of a soldier.

vulnerable, and no, not a past holder.
⠀⠀⠀

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A Watermelon Grin

her watermelon’s shell

keeps the flesh well secured,

together with the seeds

not freed inside the flesh,

it’s easy to notice, but no luck

to pluck them out,

people leave it there as they devour,

and she keeps an empty bottle

to scout for the seeds

with her tiny tongs

until she got ill.
⠀⠀⠀

she displays every bottle

like a shelf of her worthiness.

it’s to remind herself

of her accomplishments.

and every seed that is spat out,

she pretends and takes it

as a token of gratitude

coming from the mouth
⠀⠀⠀

she grows more in her backyard,

she would have to plant, wait, lift

and slice to shape a perfect smile-

her perfect smile

to capture the outer part of her

and it took every courage

while the grind hides

the flesh of her crimson rage.
⠀⠀⠀

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Bide One’s Time

i wait without a doubt

merely for what seems like decades,

i did not bother to hesitate,

but for every date,

it slowly decimates

my inner strength of having to wait.
⠀⠀⠀

i told myself to keep it up

and look at the eternal bright side,

even the night sky

burst with shimmering dots

is helping me not to rot

while i’m wide awake

to resume the days

and not lose my faith.
⠀⠀⠀

then, there was a moment

where i don’t want to wait

because i became another bait

waiting to be devoured

by wandering fishes

of the peaceful lake,

the hook jabbed through me

was like my heart put at stake

and the crimson pouring out,

it was spread across the lake.
⠀⠀⠀

this time, i didn’t have to wait.

i did it for my own’s sake.

but it felt like i’ve made

a huge mistake,

even during the late hours,

i entered my mind’s gate

and began to contemplate

on why i stopped the days

of having to wait.
⠀⠀⠀

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Inner Twin

i had a brother,

short and scary, whatever he’s wearing

always seemed to terrify others.

without him, that bothers me.

he’s my family, but i don’t like him.

he ain’t my brother, actually.

all i know is that he lives

at the back of my head,

waiting to come out

on splendid days.
⠀⠀⠀

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