To Mars

I can see Mars from my window
Against a chalky grey sky
Bulging out, red eye of the Devil,
A pole of my solitude


Every day I walk beside all
And your hands brush against mine
Every day I murmur under my breath
The calm of your eyes
The undulation of your lips.


And beaming sunshine in gleaming vessels
A deceased telescope
 My Mars watches out for me
Every day he is farther
And every day I am alone.


Give me a hand to dream
A mumbled care to hold
Give me a silence for the gorging tears
And a kiss for my soul.

On Life and Memories...

Life mocks memory and 
Tears trickle down
Gloom of days gone by
Blues of stuffed desires
And
Desires of stuffed blues
By gone days of gloom
Down trickle tears
And memory mocks life

Pangs...

I have seen her lying on her back … her fair hand over her slightly-agape mouth to stop the choking sobs. I have seen her cheeks glistening, lines culminating at the corners of her mouth. She tasted their saltiness, too lost to wipe the streaks off. Her voice grew nasal. Every time she had to talk she cleared her throat, sneezed and lied that she had caught a cold.

Thus she deceived her room-mates in a place far away from home. Walls changed colors, rooms changed shape. Surprisingly, back home, her mother always found out. Perhaps the poor lady thought of it as a result of homesickness. Assuming it as the only cause, tear drops would inadvertently taint the mother’s cheeks as well. She could not have been farther from the truth.

I have seen her lying thus on her back … eyes staring blankly at the walls, thoughts racing in her mind, always keeping pace with the tears on her cheeks.

He didn’t care. I don’t know how long she would.