Near

My first post since last year December, 2015. It feels relieving to finally be able to write again:

 

I am the music inside your heart,

the lullaby that sings for your soul.

I am the slow beats tapping inside your heart,

The memories parading within your mind.

I am the clouds that confuse you,

The airy specter of all your dreams and desires.

 

I am a powerless entity forever revolving

Beside you and within you

Always there, always near.

 

 

Remnants

Echoes of our distant dreams

returning to us like shores of the sea

Like crystals they sparkle,

roused by the touch of sunlight.

We are lost, people who are gone,

nowhere to be found between the edges of time,

Between those distances and those memories

washed ashore, we are only particles,

specks and traces left behind by the sea.

Dreams Of Our Lost Times

Dreams like pieces of a puzzle left lying on the table

Scattered all over the place, like fragments of an unfinished story.

I dreamed about you last night,

You didn’t hear me, You didn’t see me.

I called out to you but my voice was silent

Your eyes were as vacant as the hole in my heart

Ashes of memories blown away by the wind,

I call out you to in the night, will you hear me, will I hear you?

But the silence echoed and sent me nothing but the darkness.

– I.K.

Come Back

Sometimes, I feel …

That you might just be a voice from another end of a long tunnel

Lost somewhere inside a vague dream, playing senseless inside my head

While your hand must have tried to reach for me,

I am sorry that I ignored and let you slip away

Inside the dark currents of my nightmares

I hear your endless cries being washed away

And your voice faltering into the dim silence of my dreams.

 

 

– I.K.

Photographs

Leftovers of last night’s party scattered on the floor

Grandma’s old dress hanging by a hook inside the closet

Photographs of old friends stowed inside a chest, rotting

Away like the memories fading off from my mind.

People with funny hats, children with flashy grins

Twinkling bright eyes, forever smiling into the camera,

Their movements always still. A birthday party at a friend’s house,

Spring carnivals filled with colors and game shows and dances and

Trips to museums; everyday activities inside a bright small classroom.

A teacher standing by the board, silent students listening,

Their eyes all following the movement of his hands.

At the cafeteria, at the hallway, at the library, at the playground –

Dozens and dozens neatly placed inside an album.

Dozens and dozens – only scenes remembered vaguely.

Faces I used to know, laughed with and cried with; faces I used to

Dream of and liked for years; faces that still remain clinging

From the edge of my memory, slowly letting go as the years

Pass by. Childhood friends, high school crushes, best friends and

Friendly neighbors – Life separates them into different directions,

Without them knowing why. Life leads us on – each one to his own

Destiny, leaving memories to falter and trails on the dusty path.

– I.K.

Memories In Death

You are imprinted along the folds of my memories,

What is life but the transience of a waning breeze?

You are etched across the markings of my scars,

What is life but the leaves dwindling from their thrones?

You are a reflection of my kindred soul,

What is life but an echo fading into the air?

You are a piece of me, strung into the cycle of my being,

What is life but a rose withering after its time approaches?

You are within the pages of my heart,

What is life but the passing of moments gone by?

A sunset across the hills

Lifetimes of memories, joy and grief

Until they are no more than a flicker that sparks

As your eyes close and you smile

With your last breath and your last moment

For me to remember always till

My life shrivels too beneath the dust below.

Silent Hallways

In the silent hallways,

I tread through dark corridors adorned by flaming torches against dying walls

I hear-

Lonely footsteps echoing off into the distance but without a soul in sight,

The pitter-patter of leaking water hitting the desolate floor,

Of an old vinyl record crooning mournfully in the empty ball room,

Of a somber melody whistling gently against the backdrop of this solemn tune,

And if you lend your ears and listen so carefully to the music ringing in the air,

You may hear the soft sounds of gleeful laughter and a woman’s voice calling out wistfully

To the fleeting wind.