Day 187: At Once, or Twice

"At once" refers to a sense of urgency, the idea of a deadlines that have come and gone. Though it doesn't refer to the idea of trying just once, this piece was inspired by the notion that urgency isn't a singular event. At once or even twice that we try something which holds meaning to us and in some ways. We are concerned with winnings we get to collect at end of days, these are the summaries we get to play somewhere in our head. The idea of getting back to something again & again is inherent in a few hence this writing explores this relationship of failures, trials and winnings through trying something at once (in urgency) and twice(going back to it again). Whatever be it today, at once or twice or whenever you may, I hope we you keep trying,as I keep writing of ways. I hope the "I" in the poem relates back to you someways, it was never mine to begin with.

At Once, or Twice
I will never do things in ones and two(s)
Take back my winnings back from you
And plan my wins and losses some days
At Once, or Twice or whenever I may

I may have fallen down sometimes,
Somewhere beyond the end of the line
Where no one picks themselves up & walks away
I just told myself, this is not where I would stay

I am chanced mistakes which I sometimes make
These are imperfections, I like to keep
I am moments of the day that I get to create
Soft reminders of days, when I put myself to sleep

At Once, or Twice I got up and got back again
Told myself, somethings are worth more than just one try
And though the whole world may find this insane
I know not of anything better, than finding reasons to why

I am footnotes sometimes, instead of paragraphs
I am meanings stuck in between pages of a book
I am the little kid, who never grows or gives up
Because I are too busy with the steps, which at once,
                                                             or twice I took

Day 186: In the Making

The idea of being "In the Making" is far from meaning unfinished, sometimes it is about refining, about working with this need to be better that whatever we are at this point. While a lot of us will keep working on these incessantly, for a few they want to recreate themselves from scratch at times, define themselves when there is no need for one. While I sat at the balcony watching an almost perfect sky I realized even nature gets to revisit and recreate sometimes, we are paintings in the clouds sometimes , we are in the making. I find comfort in this idea because it gives us time to follow things through, read everything that comes our way & sometime get to make things true. "In the Making" is an exploration of not just the unfinished, but the part of us that we keep working on from time to time, as for now I share near perfect sunrise & sunsets with you from my balcony.

In the Making
I am thunder in the making
I am prelude to rain
I am clouds that fill the skies
I am paintings some days
                   not painted in vain

I am drawn from your balcony
In quiet winds that shift the skies
Which talk through rustlings of leaves
They are languages that are hard to transcribe

I am written about in nature's best
I am far from perfect symmetry
I am not worried about finding the rest
For now all I can find is the best of me

I am hail storms on glass windows on summer days
I am restless as the sound fades
As I sit by the balcony and watch hours fly by
I am memories that even time cannot erase

I am justified in being quiet some days
Some days are meant for the taking
I am not unfinished, just imperfect someways
In footsteps, I trace myself "in the making"

Day 185: My Blue Moon

Blue moons are a rarity, and though rare moments have a charm of their own, sometimes a long drive down trying to meet it half way is what is needed to experience it. Yesterday was one of these blue moons and it kept rising further, we drove further and into the night. In realities the concept of something that is alluring, that is attractive in its way in which it comes to us, at a moment's notice, nothing less and nothing more. While I veered into the night staring at the dark skies, something about the moon lit skies kept calling back and the songs we played on repeat.

My Blue Moon
Some long drives on a slowly ending night
And the things that keeps getting farther from sight
The music played and the winds in my hair
And a quiet night with no worries or care

Come as you may, treat me like an old friend
No questions asked when we meet, as we meet again
Walk with me till we talk without words at time
I kept to keep a piece of the memories I call mine.

In between some spaces and sometimes even time
Our world freezes over, somewhere captured in a rhyme
We write about a world that travels from one night to the next
Till be meet again, we make our last one our very best

To things that are on the horizons somewhere for now
Stories that are unwritten and yet unsettled somehow
My long drive is unending , I wish it doesn't end so soon
I draw pictures out of thin air, staring at my blue moon.