59. Sunrise

The clock is running now,
running till the sunlight ends,
the edge of day a summary
of hours precious spent.

Those minutes wearing smiles
to lift another soul,
though scant compared to troubles,
are the richest gifts for woes.

And shaken hands that falter
can still yet another find
to hold and whisper comforts
until the hurt subsides.

Sunlight ends eventually,
but with kindness on the way,
we’ll meet our slumber cheerfully
and prep another for their day.

Notes:
It feels great to write a piece befitting of this blog’s title. Destiny calls as much in kindness as in action. May we all aspire and achieve the nobility of stars, while retaining the humility of earth.

58. Strings

What joy, sadistic, to derive
from words malevolent,
to witness flowing tears or angst
from our significant —

Or careless compliments
as plentiful as leaves
shedding freely from the trees
and likewise, ill-received.

There never was a cure
to anger, lust, but distance —
poor Envy never could ignore
with only time’s assistance.

Notes:
A bit scattered from start to finish. Could almost be 3 different pieces, though I guess they all string together into one general direction of vices in wanting your social world to be a certain way. The key to happiness, they say, is to want what you have. But what if you have nothing?

P.S. Should switch gears soon. Since I’m already behind due to triple b-day party, should focus on the good things in life for the next few pieces.

57. Stirred

It started gently, like a breeze
of waning childish days,
and quiet as the sun would rest
upon those gleeful faces,
escaping notice like summer
making way for twirling waves
of maple leaves.

But hugs and quiet phrases
can rouse a dormant wanting —
where met before a glance,
now gazing eyes held captive
by a goddess most enchanting.

Notes:
I am too much a sucker for hugs. A lovely weakness indeed, but one that needs the most careful monitoring.

55. Background

What is silence to the eyes
probing most intently,
searching for the signs
beneath the commentaries —
The jokes and laughter swift,
the pause in shifts so sudden,
of what designs can we appraise
when words are hidden…

Notes:
Had an insightful conversation with a cohort member today. The quiet, observant people never have to tell others how observant they are. What to make of those that do?

54. Teacher

The little hints
we mutual pass,
those subtle winks
of admiration
acknowledged yet
feign ignorance,
receiving laughs
for silly jokes,
our tension obvious.

But changed the season,
colors shift,
leaves fluttering
in the air,
like words unsaid,
just hovering,
awaiting either
of the pair.

Notes:
Which is worse: a love unrequited, or one requited but cannot come to be?

53. Diet

Emptied soda can, third tonight,
though on a diet now,
fake sugar tasting not quite right
but hailed as life saver
for the proud unable yet committed
to habits for the better.

Desiring self in mirrors savory,
that physique the straying eyes adore,
yet gone by way, like many promises,
as hand reaches for a fourth.

Notes:
Wanted to name the piece Splenda, but that’s probably a violation of some silly trademark law. In that regards, corporations are just like people after all. Petty with intangible property. Whoops, there I go again on one of those silly tirades. Don’t let the less flexible stymie your own ability to adapt.

52. Closing

There are hungers worse than hurt,
but heartaches can compete
when wine could only fail
by granting no relief —

Mistakes, good friends, and laughter,
all dullness before sleep,
where lost to what could be
is an answer unreceived.

Notes:
That sorrow a few years back, watching that expression on another person. Closure is so cathartic, and yet so rarely achievable when it is needed most.

51. Tatters

Dirty piles scattered
absentminded on the floors,
these modern-day pyramids,
chaotic monuments of perpetual,
dirty laundry laziness,
assorted shirts and articles
self-promised to be sorted,
but as habit tends to do,
was collected in one basket.

Notes:
I am convinced more by the day that if we stop lying to ourselves half as much, we’d make some real progress in bettering our capacities. That’s probably my biggest problem with you: I can’t admit fully yet to all the truths. Lies do serve their purpose, but at what cost, and more importantly, to who?

50. Smiles (or Expectations)

A playbook for your life,
every game, every practice,
laid out in jumbled mess
of ugly and attractive
maneuvers —

Be a real man, goes one,
find nice lady, says another,
time to be adult now, so
don’t be an emotional bother —

And cheers and jeers
the spectate crowd,
who hid their own playbooks —

We so much hate the game
we play, and yet
we share that one look.

Notes:
Some days, I learn so much from reddit. The agony of others negotiating their roles in life. In a way, reminding me of choices that I too must undergo. In other news, still stuck in this poor writing rut, as it were. Good news is that I made it 50 days already.