Day 321: Night & Day

Sometimes all you need to do is believe that in the absence of plans you can find inspiration profound, you can find freedom when you need it the most, you can find happiness where you least expect it. We are expensing them bit by bit and losing track. We are no longer in the business of making sense of everything around us, We are systems without purpose sometimes, driftwood on the shore of the river bank. As we see the love affair between the day and night, we ca't help but ponder how much we get to remember from all this.

Night & Day
This is me writing from one of my escapes
At beginning of it all or maybe the end of days
And whatever is poured into my glass
The spirit of the night, that was meant to last

They make music from nothing more than thin air
As though the night & day are bound by a love affair
The breaks in between causes even time to slow
For the unscripted bits of life, they go as they may go

Hour long or hour short, whatever the day may be,
Why I sit between a crowd & think of writing poetry
While the basement with imagination seems to come alive
As I move again and again between places & into the night

The host of things that change slow for me now
Some in my imagination and some real life somehow
As I toast another glass and speak of & with words
I capture my night in poetry and in my last verse

Day 320: Winter Smoke

There seems to be a love-hate relationship we are having with winter this year. It cools down and warms up just the same and just when you think you have seen it calm, it will remind you that it can turn insane. So I blow winter smoke as my breath touches the cold air, and I write with just a little bit of warmth knowing my words meet me half way there. This night as she gets ready to sleep, it slumbers in my poetry and the few words that I got to keep.

Winter Smoke
So this is you, making up your mind?
You come down as snow & slowly unwind
You come and go, in the hours of the night
I see winter smoke as I breathe onto the sky

The night she stays still, she freezes slow
She unravels as I walk back home in the snow
I am drawing circles with my feet out and around
As I pace back leaving footprint on covered ground

The winter smoke that breathes into day
Sunlight I steal from the hours that get away
And like the turn of the hour hand or minutes at best
I am living bit and bit, unplanned for the rest

Come and visit me this spring time, I will be here
I will dust off these leaves & we will start a story that is dear
Some will say that winter might come and slowly go
The winter smoke I breathe and in the wind, it blows

Day 319: The Familiar Simple

"Loading updates" flashed on the screen for a few seconds as the icon which resembled a circle kept going round and round. It was 3 in the morning so the obvious reasons as to why I was updating my google feed slipped my mind. I had not written for the last two days and I felt the need to keep refreshing something, again and again. It was my way of recollecting my thoughts and reloading them back into my mind hoping for something to change. I have started with the third and the last week of written exams this week, and for those who have learned to go step by step with things, know when I say it is not all that fun to begin with. I keep rehashing and figuring out perfectly how to summarize things that I may know and some that I have learned. There is a premium we attach to being simple, about being as concise and clear as possible which I feel stems from the need of familiarity. So I decided to write about this relationship between the simple and the familiar

The Familiar Simple
We are in love every day with just this much, the simple
We are not looking for more than enough, just ample
So we refresh, we rewrite and we restate what we say
We are looking for the familiar simple in every single day

We are told that these are in things we write about
In moments of clarity which we find when surrounded by doubt
We are in and out of your mind in the time that you read
Leaving behind inscriptions and meanings to pay heed

We are writing summaries every day, the ones we need to refine
They are imperfect as they may be, but I claim them as mine
We have figured out what we need to do, so we build it in our head
As I lay dreaming wide awake, as you find sleep in your bed

The familiar and the simple seem far & sometimes too far to reach
I am writing them down one by one, I am reminding myself of each
For much has been said & done, much has yet to come
As we keep looking for the familiar simple in what we have become