Category: Written in 2013

Friendship

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

Friendship

 

I’m crazy for even feeling anger:

You are too self-absorbed to gauge and know,

Too vain even to choose to remember

Friendship is more than a hi a hello.

 

It is more than passing time and learning,

So much more than love, because it has none

Of its bittersweet, poignant yearning

But has help and kindness, laughter and fun.

 

Friendship is clear or rather it should be,

With an openness of warmth and feeling,

Engaging in all sorts of charity,

Enabling a vital tender healing

 

Of wounded hearts torn by society,

Or ironically by love’s pain

And its different shades of cruelty

That tend to crop up again and again.

 

I wish I could understand your notion

Of no past or future just the present;

But all three make up for emotion,

Every moment gives birth to moment.

 

I wish you to know and soon realize

The difference between the false and true;

Most stuff that seems beautiful lies

And you need someone other than just you.

Chemo Children

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

A child weeping.
Inconsollably.

Chemotherapy
Seeping slowly.

A teenaged boy
Puking out his guts.

I wish, I wish, I wish
Life didn’t hurt so much.

Practice Smiling

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

Who really would care,

If all of my smiles fade?

No one wishes to bear

An eloquent tirade.

The songs have choked and died

Somewhere deep in my throat –

And all life does is hide,

And all time does is gloat.

Youth flashes his large teeth –

Vain and proud is his stare –

From afar I feel heat,

To get close I don’t dare.

Where has all my hope gone?

Caved in like a dim star,

A black hole so forlorn,

All it does now is mar

The body, mind and soul:

Anti-matter longing

For death – the only goal

Whose arms I belong in.

Perhaps I could’ve done much.

Lived a different life?

Yielded to ambition’s touch?

Wed fame instead of strife?

Been an owner of wealth?

Hope could then be cheaper,

I could have bought health,

Wounds would run less deeper,

Youth would kneel before me,

And look up in my eyes –

Hell, I know I’ll still see

Lies masked by selfish lies!

Hence I’ll practice smiling

Though my ethos disappears,

For I’m tired of tasting

Salt from overlooked tears.