Day 341: Parts of my Mind

Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to find out where to step and in which direction. I like to think that some of the best things in life come as a result of taking a bold step, one that is untethered and yet brave. While we may be surrounded by eggshells, for now; we have to believe that we will get through somehow. While I count and collect these days of the week, I look for these bits of mine which for now play hide and seek. Parts of my mind are on loan to you, or maybe in the lost and found finding a way back for now. While I hope you find meaning today, I cannot help myself from counting days.

Parts of my Mind
Parts of my mind and part of my heart
Seem lost in thoughts, wherever it is at
While I walk as though with eggshells around
Finding out what to say, just for now

These days of mine, that I count for you
Some are here to stay and some too slow to go
While there are a few that I count in between
To reach to the other side of what lies unseen

Part of my mind seems to be on a holiday
It seems to have wandered out and found an escape
In the meantime, I try to be just as honest as I can be
And still make it to your thoughts, as myself & me

These things that are hard to say or even do
They are moments that connects me back to you
While you may read in between these lines
I wait for Friday and the lost part of my mind

Day 340: Come Write me a Song

How hard can it be to write a song? Is is the lyrics that make it complicated, the ones that are supposed to fit and rhyme or is the music or tune that we hope to find. Maybe I am kidding myself, maybe it is really challenging to write one to begin with but then I think some of the best songs have been written over nothing at 3 am in the morning. Even if these never go off the sheets and into reality, why wouldn't we try to write one and set it free. So come write me a song, something borrowed from everything around.

Come Write me a Song
These buttercup lyrics up and about
Songs that are stuck in your head for now
I sing and you whistle & we may write in between
Lyrics to a song no one has read or even seen

Come loudly if you may, like tunes of a saxophone
Come quietly if you can, in your mind when alone
Just know that it is easy to write sometimes & somedays
They are just random thoughts that somehow got away

Come write me a song one which somehow even rhymes
We will sing a phrase or two and then we will hit rewind
Make adjustments and fine tune whatever needs to be
Just write a chorus if you must, and just put it on repeat

These choices of words I make, I scribble them all down
On the back of a napkin somewhere lost for now
While we draw labels of the unreleased albums in our head
Come write me a song or just sing along with me instead

Day 339: Drunk with Words

Think of it this way, if writing was an obsessions, if it was a glass of tall drink you couldn't keep down,what would you do. I think of this as getting drunk with words, finding something in things we read, listen or even write. These meaningful snippets of what makes sense and how we pour these words out into glasses retaining bits of memories and nostalgia for the few. I am fascinated with the human interaction as I keep drinking and getting drunk on words. I find myself scribbling often to every surface possible as I keep digging for more, I keep writing for now albeit running a little late.  

Drunk with Words
So have we played well? Are we all done, 
Drunk with words and finding out what we have become
So have we kept our feet grounded? and somehow found escape
In the middle of the night find our escapades

Have we told stories as close to truth as we can be
Or are we writing versions of what we believe is reality
They are things that fit nice, that may somehow make sense
Yet the best of things we recollect, when we don't have to pretend

So we are drunk with words, we choose to be
Because we look for rhyme and yet wish to be free
We write day in and day out, whereever we can
We write more than we can read but in a life span

We are question on the loose and in the answers that we chase
We are in memories that we desperately hope never gets erased
While the forgetful few will look for nostalgia in a verse
I keep drinking more and more & getting drunk on these words

Day 338: Come Dance

"Would you like to go try out dancing?", quite an unusual request I might add considering it was 10 in the night and like every other thing in my life I pursue with pure curiosity, I didn't plan on thinking about it too much. Imagine dancing in a studio with no one , just a glass window by your side and the night sky with the moon slowly peeking inside. You move and learn and sway, and in time, all these actions slowly become a dance. Take the story as simply as they come sometimes, there are no better examples of transformations of random steps to dances. I find solace in the wonder and surprise in just that much for now.

Come Dance

Come carry me into the night the evening it sways
It asks me for things I don't want to give away
In some decisions, that was never ours to make
I will find just this much, whatever I can take

Come dance with me in the middle of the night
Turn off your phone, put it out of your sight
Some stories are better told in the rhythms of how we move
I look for what is instead of what can be and what could

Come into the night maybe sometimes unannounced

I am refusing to make plans just for now

These rainy days or winter days that don't leave

While you wait with your sketchbook for spring to begin

Come as you may, take these steps to and fro

We are dancing alone into the night in a dance studio,

While the lights outside they change with the passing of cars

Nothing remains constant, except this nostalgia of who we are

Day 337: Instance Life

I think at the end of the day when I slide that key and unlock my door, there are a few thoughts that come to my tired mind. Some which are just summaries and list of things to do, some about pauses I forgot to take and some about the last bit of things that are yet to be completed. I think of life as instances sometimes, the random ones no one cares about, the ones that happen unannounced. As I stitch a few of these together I find an instance life, some that are about the mundane captured bit by bit. I like to believe sometimes the hardest thing to capture are the simple ones. So I share these instances in writing

Instance Life
The grocery bag on the floor they lay
I had much to do, much more to say
Too much to text to you, too much to write
A little too much to fit over a coffee cup fight

I am drinking alone among crowds I don't know
Hoping to write life as though plots of a show
The picture frames on the bar they are but inclined
So it bothers me just a little among sanity I hope to find

I am cold things kept and forgotten in the microwave
Maybe reminders to tell me if I just ate
I am still organized but it seems, only in my head
Writings stories to myself from the other side of my bed

I am these instances, I remember in every paragraph
I am painting pictures and writing books on someone else's behalf
While the twist and turns in which the storyteller hides
Becomes reality as I face it every day and in my own true life

Day 336: Write with Me

Come write with me, it should be simple and easy. It should be about words that stitch together in your mind trying to find places where just a few words can find. Writing is easy they say or maybe it is just the hard to come by , but I have learned that we are all used to some form of it, in our head. On one of the coldest Spring days today I am taken by surprise experiencing one of the quietest Saturdays for a long time. I am not used to making plans about people, and neither about what I write about. For some things are better left for the moment to find.

Write with Me
Come write with me, as the day it passes by
Just scribble somewhere and maybe give it a try
In search of better things that are yet to come
Find a story that has yet to become

These evening hours that dissapear
While some that stay over days, months or year
The quiet light of the evening sky
Lets me write thoughts , some yours & some mine

Come write, with me as though this day will never end
Find happiness in places where you don't need to pretend
The best versions of our lives are yet to come
For now, we are what we are,  whatever we have become

Didn't we find the heart, that dreams in restless imagination
As I dig thoughts,try to recollect every sensation
So I jot down these memories and I try to write them down
As the day fades into the night, outside my window pane for now

Day 335: Any Road

I wonder what it feels like to just get into a car and drive away, truly without plans and truly without a destination in your head. Does it take time before something in your head kicks in, do you start to wonder why or how it ends. They are like stories you often sit down to write without themes or plans, without rough sketches here and there and without notes you scribbled on the back of a napkin somewhere. They are stories you find on any roads as you move and as things add-on. They are without roadmaps sometimes, without markers and landmarks and reminders of where you are. So any road you take just gets you somewhere, and everything else at least for that time doesn't feel important at all. Here's to such road trips I wish we take

Any Road
For I have travelled along the squiggly lines
I have managed to do so and still feel fine
Any road that keeps going back in time
Moving forward and yet somehow finding rewind

I tell myself that there may be roadblocks ahead
Places we pay tolls and take a different way instead
Where troubled times and happy ones manage to stay
But I; don't stop, I keep moving on the road anyway

I don't have a map to follow no trails that I know
Just a little bit of me that I manage to show
The honest self that knows not of any other way
It just likes to ride along and finding places instead

Any road that I take, I hope I will get to summarise
How we are as we are, to everyone's surprise
And the little bit of you and me, that gets written down
As though finding something new in places I have been around

I am road maps that are paper still, and as the day, it folds
I am songs on repeat and some calls that are on hold
And then when you have given up you might just get through
We will share conversation on both ends, just me and you

These stories we write wherever and however they may be
Lie unthought of and perhaps, in the only way they can be free

Day 334: Just This

I think I am fascinated by the feeling of transition with every season whether they are in the rain just before spring or whether they are in the drops of water that cling to branches of a tree. I am both lost and found as I try to put them in words. These things that I wish would change and they seem to stay. I think it takes a little bit of courage to be yourself in the ever changing, in the idea that stationary things are nostalgia put in candy wrappers. They are things I remember and wish to remember, they are just this much of simplicity, I am writing it down, maybe just for me.

Just This
Just trickle down on my shoulder but somehow stay
You are raindrops I hold onto just for today
Reminders of the clouds that paint the sky
They change the canvas every day before I even try

Just stay in the things that we get to keep
For a little while,  as I daydream without any sleep
I write of stories and complete list of things to do
Such are the unplanned writings that are from me & you

I am inspired by the closely knit and yet that which slips away
This wind, the sunlight and the little warmth in the shade
I will read to myself, some things over and over again
Till I am but pouring down in words, just like this rain

Just a little courage that colors my mind and heart
Till I keep looking for new beginnings & a place to start
I write these to you and this much for now
Just trickle down on my shoulder & yet stay somehow

Day 333: Me & More

Me and more explores the concept of saying that we are inclined to find versions of ourselves in others. Things we perceive to be true about ourselves though we cannot be fair observers to that. So you are me and more, you are the known and unknown among the unexplored, as I danced slowly into the night yesterday. I looked at things that might have gotten away, learning about people as I met them and realizing there is more to learn from not just the version I see. So this writing explores the "you" as something that is me and more, someone with whom I dance and sway and some who in my memories are there to stay.

Me & More
You are simply me and more
Walking out that closed door
Telling stories, of some other day
Hoping and wishing for things that may

You are simply this, you cannot stay
You dance, you move & sometimes sway
In the arms of the night you dissolve
As I look for clues in puzzles I can't solve

You are two steps I take one back and forth
We have no limit on this time we sought
We borrowed some hours into the night
Still dancing to the tune, not losing sight

I see good things & great things as they unfurl
Looking at things that make up our world
For some of this are things I write about
I am somewhere right here, in between the crowd

You are and will always be simply me & more
You are paintings on the wall & steps on the dance floor
For I must learn how to keep that which comes & goes
Captured in writing is the only way for now that I know 

Day 332: Such Is

Once in a while I feel that the greatest distances aren't on the outside or even in the world that we see but on the inside somewhere in the back of the mind. It is the ones we often cannot seem to quantify or measure, one we cannot explain. They are divides and yet they seem to connect more people than we know, they are inspirations lost somewhere. In time as I fly back and forth again and again I keep thinking of these distances that keeps us connected even thousands of miles away and some that keeps us apart even in the same room. Here's to the perfect start to the irrational and the things we cannot explain, some that have moved in our lives and some that have in time remained. Take a trip today

Such Is
Such is the divide between you and I
Between all we could keep & some that are left behind
Such are the memories, in secrets they conspire
They are nostalgia, imperfect but always admired

Such is the impatient pace of my thoughts in my mind
That these questions I cannot seem to leave trailing behind
They are footprints that seem to follow me home
They are things that don't quite seem to leave me alone

Such is the way in which things move on even if we stay
When we are troubled looking for our very own way
How we have found the normal and yet in our mind feel insane
Loosing sleep as we keep traveling over & over again

Such is the plight of the often misunderstood
Who claim to be a part of the world and remain aloof
They are tired by all measure of the heart & the mind
Waiting to be lost in all the craziness of the world you find 

Day 331: Lost in Bangalore

Every time I travel, I like to write a piece which fits into a series of poems I write. They are called "Lost in " and explore the age old idea of just walking randomly in a city you barely know till you find yourself lost. You keep finding connections and directions and slowly you find your way back home. You find the reason why you go on these adventures to begin with, is to explore new places to eat, or are they about the facade that wraps and covers everything. Is it about the idea that meeting someone for the first time is exciting, someone who has no idea of who you are. Though many will claim that we have lost the last bit of luxury and that in the world where almost everyone is googlable it is hard to meet someone for the first time and then for the second. I still believe that we are creating these pockets where to want to find that escape even if for a little bit. Whether it is waiting in a taxi forever or at the edge of a table sitting with close friends and taking pictures. I think the charmed stories are the ones we like to keep but only in our mind

Lost in Bangalore
So these ice cream places that you talk about
Tell me there are scoops for me, waiting to be found
They are sweet things in life that we get to keep
An aftertaste in my mouth, that I wish never leaves

Why think about one song wonders tonight
Have we sung just a few that fade into the night
As I stitch together these memories, some yours & mine
Some that are left on napkins & some harder to find

Lost in this city that slowly takes a brief pause
Where we need no reason to come together, need no cause
So I sip coffee in coffee shops in paper cups
I write stories of you & me & of what we have become

The world changes just this much, have we noticed just yet
Are we wishing to be right always are we placing safe bets
We are risk takers and story writers and memories all in one
Are we lost this time again? or simply looking, for where it had begun