Half-Baked Brains

The primitive brains

in the island of frogs

know no world

outside of theirs

They know time

They know sky

They know water

They know earth

A ship arrives

with a load of

half-baked brains

Half-baked brains

presented on golden trays—

know no time

know no sky

know no water

know no earth

The wise man refrained

while others delighted,

enticed by the glamour

Last words of him—

“Find your way”

only to be swept away

by the ocean waves

All that remained

were the half-baked brains

The Flow

A bucket of paint

thrown on the canvas

creates an artwork

As the paint runs down,

an image of misery

could become a colourful joy

How do I know

the artwork started with misery?

It could have been the other way around—

joy running down as misery

Can the flow be intercepted midway

to change its course?

Yoboseyo

A lady answers the phone

and screams in a sharp voice—

yoboseyo

yoboseyo

yoboseyo

Barrage of arrows

shot over the line—

distressed speech

a spirit on the line

Silence with a bang

The line goes dead

Eardrums awakened

Who was that?

Who intervened?

What just happened?

Love Exists

Love exists

At unusual places

In the most irrational situations

At the illogical turning points in life

It sticks and won't go away

It wants to add and multiply

Defies the rules of mathematics

Revolts against morality and ethics

The lovers want to dissolve

They want to be swept away

They want to reach somewhere

They seek meaning

Amid all the tension

Then everything else stands between

Like a silent, lifeless wall

Constantly challenging

With a quiet spite

"Let's see how you'll move past this point"

The Metamorphosis of Freedom

Wings forming

behind my arms

A vast sky above

the clouds calling me

beneath the heavens

My legs tremble

my wings flutter

ready to spread

Awaiting

awakening—

the moment of leap

Now perched in freedom

soon morphing into

the flight of freedom

When the earth cracks open

I fly high

far and wide

fly within depths

and touch the sky

Unbounded by limits

the thresholds to be crossed

stepping into the unknown

to find what awaits

I question the flight

I question the perch

I question the heart

I question the soul

I question my freedom

before settling down in freedom

River That Wants to Roar

The river wants to roar

like the ocean waves—

its mild currents

lacking a voice

The shore touches the river

it hears the flow—

the sound heard

heard clearly

but only heard

never listened to

Between This and That

A bird soaked in the rain

sitting on a fence

ready to fly

We are inside our own nests

untouched by the rain

stuck

between this and that

unable to fly

We free the birds

and cage ourselves

Two Worlds and Me

Two worlds and me—

here I stand

One world—

that wasn’t my choice

but I’ve made my choices there

Another world—

I am the creator

where I make my choices

One world—

where I exist

alongside others

with a deep sky

and flowing water

Another world—

where only I exist

and my inner voice

with dreams

and silence

One world—

where I’ve closed

the doors to many

with only two left

closest to me

Another world—

my door remains shut

only opening carefully

allowing the special one

who wants to read me

I switch back and forth

between my worlds

Here I am in another world

writing this piece

while the other world sleeps

unaware where I’ve gone

Vanish into a Life

“Something has been bothering you.

I know you.

I can sense it.”

“I know you think deep.

You don’t get happy easily.

Go live your life.

Don’t be afraid.

Do whatever you like.”

The words resonate

like a mantra of my liberation

My steps are tied

despite wanting to run

It feels like I don’t belong anywhere

neither inside nor outside

My speech held back

despite wanting to speak

My words are just heard

not fully listened to

I feel not understood

despite being understood

My mind is burning

my heart runs wild

I’m looking for depth

yet I find the water too shallow

I need that spark that awakens

my entire being

I might step out

and keep running

I might snap—

vanish into a life

never be found again

Listened to by the Shadows

I’m perhaps yet another noise

in this noisy world

where my voices

and my words

are just taken as objects

Does anyone hear the voice

behind the object—

let alone listen?

If I stop voicing in this world

it’s one less object

to listen to—

instantly replaced

by another noise

I move into the other world

where I voice myself

no one is there to listen

yet listened to by the shadows