Tag: freeverse

Sweetly

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

I close the windows
against the rising sun
and the heat invades the room.
It’s stifling and muggy,
clothes stick to my body,
like flies into honey.
I wish hope could
fetch the same stickiness
and cling,
hard and fast,
with a warmth
that is messy
and sweet.

I still seek
a father.
No matter how far
the hills have grown,
and how desolate
the past appears,
there is so much to climb,
without hope,
without support.

You do not know,
how age creeps up
on the alone,
if i could be
a father,
i would have known
how i should have been
loved.

But there is no honey
to call the flies to,
just a rising sun
that beats down the hills.
Sweetly.

They said

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia1 Comment

Be careful, they said:
Don’t give so much of your heart;
What you give of it, they said,
Is never returned. 

They said, I should be aware:
There are takers present 
Who won’t acknowledge 
Your gift in the light of day;
They will wait,
Until even the moon covers her body
To take you. 

Be careful, they said,
The ocean takes from land 
And seems to love her;
But all he does 
Is cover what she has
And longs to cover the rest. 

Be wise, they said,
All who profess love
Do not mean what they say,
Or do not understand what they mean. 
Do not trust much, if at all,
Even love comes with a price. 

Be ready, they said,
You will need your tears and pain
As collateral for the kisses
You received and the joy you used. 

Be careful, they said.

But I forgot. 

And, when I stood alone 
In my foolishness, 
Stripped clean of pride,
And left with small change, 
At the edge of the ocean,
Under a barren moon,
I remembered all they said. 

Unhappy

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

There is this part of me,

A responsibility,

I feel it every day,

Scraping my insides,

I have reasoned with it,

Telling it to grow up,

Be strong and face life

And its reality.

I have bargained with it,

Giving it compassion,

Clothes and food,

Even a daily hug;

But it wants more.

I cannot give this thing

A loving glance,

It has remained the same,

I’ve outgrown this dance.

It asks me at daybreak,

If I still feel passion;

But time has changed me,

In every physical fashion.

It seeks to feel what I gave,

A long time ago,

I choose to bestow a hug

And nothing more.

It asks me at noon,

If I remember it at work,

And I want to yell

“How can I forget your fucking nails?”

It asks me at twilight,

If the sun is as gold

As the time we danced,

I look at the gold and think

How many more years

Before it burns out.

Perhaps if I ignore the thing,

Its own need will eat it alive.

I’ll prevent a rescue,

Even if it is from me –

Perhaps sadness will do the deed

For it can never be happy.